Tale of the Bhaalspawn
by Capt. Incredible
Summary: From their first capture by Irenicus to the battle in the Hells, the story of a Bhaalspawn sorcerer, his companions, and the path each walks to their own destiny.
1. Part 1: Prologue

**Part 1: Heritage of Murder**

**Prologue:**

"**The Lord of Murder shall perish, but in his death he shall spawn a score of mortal progeny. Chaos shall be sown in their footsteps." So sayeth the wise Alaundo. **

_Mirtul 11, 1373- The Year of Rogue Dragons:_

_It is with mixed feelings that I, Gorion Greenstone, take pen in hand once more to relay the events of the past days in an attempt to relieve my own worries and fears- as well as to express my hopes and joys. It has been fifteen years since the boy has come into our life here at the fortress of Candlekeep- a time which has not been, nor will it ever be, one of peace and quiet._

The elderly wizard's mouth curled upward at that last statement as he sat at his desk. He chuckled slightly as the shadows danced over his face, the study room only lit with several candles as he dipped the quill in the inkwell again, brushing out further words and sentences on the parchment that composed his journal of sorts.

_Where to begin... introductions, I suppose. Greywulf is the boy's name, and an appropriate moniker as any. A charismatic young fellow, and developing into quite the sorcerer. It would seem my lessons have paid off, though it may be more of his own innate talent than anything. If only Imoen had the dedication of the boy, she might be as powerful as he in the arcane arts- oh yes, I suppose it has been some years since I last found time to write of anything in my own life. Imoen is my other ward here at Candlekeep. A mischievous lass with a penchant towards thievery, she still possesses one of the noblest hearts I've seen in my years as a Harper._

Gorion set his quill down for a moment, reaching into one of the many pockets in his robe for a handkerchief, feeling a sniffle coming on- he frowned as the pocket turned up empty. A vision of Imoen earlier that day bumping into him on that particular side flashed back to memory- he sighed, reflecting upon what he had just written.

_Or perhaps not. Regardless, the two complement each other quite well. It is well that they have each other for company; t'would be a lonely existence here at Candlekeep otherwise. I do what I can, but I am not the young man I used to be, and could little provide the company both desire so much. The other monks here are little better, and some prove altogether hostile to Greywulf, or at least those who know his secret. Yes, he is no ordinary boy. I scarce need mention the events that still linger in the minds of those mortals on Faerun who, like me, witnessed the cataclysmic Time of Troubles. Gods were made flesh, mortals ascended to the divine... and demigods were spawned. The Lord of Murder foresaw his destruction and took steps to ensure his rebirth. Thus were the Bhaalspawn conceived in hatred and murder, all for the purpose of resurrecting their father. _

_The prophecies speak of their bloodlust and their evil... I believe that our destinies are not set in stone. Not mine... and not Greywulf's._

A knock at the door was just enough to draw his attention; Gorion glanced behind him, then shook his head. Most people would not bother him while locked away in his study- perhaps they would simply leave if he did not reply. He stroked the long gray beard upon his chin, then resumed writing.

_Yes, the boy is a Bhaalspawn. I have raised him in hopes of suppressing the evil that runs through his veins, in hopes of bringing something, anything good out of the darkness that the Bhaalspawn are prophesied to cause. Others, particularly members of my kin amongst the Harpers, would disagree._

Another knock at the door drew a look from the wizard; he considered rising from his chair and answering... but with a contented sigh, he lifted the cup of tea resting on the far side of his desk, took a quick sip, then continued.

_Yes, there are undoubtedly great and important events to come in the boy's future. Whether they shift the balance towards darkness or light I cannot say, but his role cannot, will not be ignored. May Mystra watch over him in his future- the dark deities are undoubtedly doing so as well._

A sharp rap at the door of his study caused Gorion's hand to jolt, just enough to smudge the last sentence he had been writing. The wizard snorted in disgust, then called out behind him in exasperation, "Come in, come in!"

The wizard did not even bother to look up as he attempted to wipe the last few ink droplets from the parchment without smearing it further, and so did not see the two figures that slipped inside his study, shutting the door quietly. Still, Gorion's eyes twinkled with appreciation as he looked up, his face opposite from them- "I was wondering if ye two would be showing up any time soon. I am glad to see I was right."

"When have you ever been wrong?" the wry question posed by the female half-elf, one hand on her hip as she eyed the old man, was taken in the context it was meant; Gorion chuckled as he stood, embracing her and then taking the hand of her husband to shake firmly. The half-elf in armor took off his helmet, resting it under one arm as he nodded to the wizard. "It h-has been some time, G-Gorion."

"Indeed, my old friends." Gorion smiled as he closed the book he had been penning, sliding it across his desk. "Indeed it has."

X X X X X X X

A bright and hopeful sun rose in the eastern skies, slowly awakening all in the city of Baldur's Gate, specifically the group of adventurers sleeping just a few miles south from the recently besieged city. Three different tents were pitched in a patch of grassy plain, staked down and slowly illuminated as the shadows fled the morn.

A young man sat in the blankets from which he had recently risen, an old and worn journal resting in his lap as he uncorked a small inkwell, doing his best to avoid spilling it as he tried to ignore the raucous snores coming from his tentmate. He smiled with acceptance, ran one hand through his sandy brown hair, then began writing.

_I suppose introductions are in order once again- this was really my father's journal, not mine. But he's not here... and I guess it felt right, continuing the legacy he left behind. I am Greywulf, ward of Gorion... and I am a Bhaalspawn. Yes, you read that correctly. My father- foster father I suppose, though I will always see him as more of a father than any dead god could be- never told me much of how I came to be with him, and what I have read here has done little to aid me. I suppose I will relate the events of recent days then. _

_Gorion never said much of the Bhaalspawn or the prophecies surrounding them, but I now see how often they must've crossed his mind, troubled his thoughts. He was right to be worried; in the end, it was a Bhaalspawn who brought him to his death. No, I did not commit patricide, if any reading this need assurance of that fact. My half-brother Sarevok was the murderer, and I have ensured that he paid for his crime. The murderer sought to become the new Lord of Murder, and I was a threat to that claim. A nearly averted war between Baldur's Gate and Amn was his doing as well, but once again, the efforts of my companions and myself have undone much of what he had wrought. _

"Psst!! Greywulf!"

The sharp whisper almost made him jump; still, he had been on the receiving end of such sneak attacks often enough to keep from showing it too much. He glanced over at the pink-haired girl, her impish grin seemingly unfazed by the look of mild exasperation on his face. "Some people knock, Imoen."

"You're in a tent. There's no door, silly." she said, half-chuckling to herself as she spoke. "Anyway, Jaheira wanted me to get you and Minsc up. Says it's hard enough to get moving without the two of you wasting half the morning."

She slipped out before he could reply- the young man sighed, then dipped his pen once more.

_Speaking of companions, that would be Imoen, my... sister, of sorts. She's not a Bhaalspawn, but I grew up with her in Candlekeep, so she's as close to a sibling as I can imagine. She was the only one there with me after Gorion died- I don't think I would have made it without her. I owe her a lot- my life, no doubt. Not to say she doesn't try my patience daily, but its part of why I love her. Or hate her, depending on the time of day. I've done my best to train her in the magical arts, and she's caught on quick- quicker than I could have ever expected._

Greywulf smiled, nodding in satisfaction. Before he could begin again, the flap of his tent opened a second time, revealing a dark-skinned woman in full mage regalia. She glanced down at the sleeping ranger, then at the sheepish sorcerer whose quill was still in hand.

"Dynaheir... I was just about to get Minsc up-"

The wizardess raised one hand, cutting him off with a look of stern discipline. "Dost thou take me for a fool? Gather your belongings and prepare for the day, we have much to do."

She turned to leave, but glanced back once more, letting the front of stern and unflinching cool drop for one moment as what might- just possibly- have been a smirk crossed her regal features. "And do not forget to mention Boo in your writings... Minsc will ask, you know."

He grinned back, waiting for her to leave before picking up the pen a third time. _Yes, continuing on the subject of companions. One of the odder pairings we've run into, Minsc and Dynaheir still remain by my side. Dynaheir is a Wychlaran witch from the northern land of Rashemen. We rescued her at the behest of her traveling companion Minsc, a ranger who also hails from that icy land. Dynaheir is... normal enough, though she does keep to herself more often. Minsc, on the other hand- well, he has a hamster named Boo. He says it talks to him. We say he's a little crazy. He says Boo is a Miniature Giant Space Hamster. He's seven feet tall and one giant ball of muscle. We decided... let the man talk to his hamster._

"By Silvanus, man! How long will you sit in that bed of yours and waste time?" Jaheira's exasperated voice nearly sent his quill sliding over the pen, but by a great feat of dexterity or simple luck, he managed to catch it right before it would have undone the whole of what he had written. He winced, looking up at the green-eyed druid and her pursed lips, a glare burning into his skull regardless of whether he was looking or not. "Didn't I send Imoen in here? Dynaheir as well?"

"Yes, mother. Right away, mother." Greywulf quipped, drawing another sigh of mild irritation from the woman as he set his writing utensils down again.

"Fine. Be up in the next minute or I will bring your tent down on the top of your stubborn head." she threatened, before halting her exit, her brow knitting as she spotted the journal. "Is that Gorion's old journal that you are continuing?"

The faintest hint of a smile tugged at her lips as she saw him nod an affirmation; it passed just as quickly, but she tossed back one last sentence before leaving. "Five minutes then. No more."

_Little could I forget to pen down the names of Khalid and Jaheira, the couple who have arguably saved my life more times than I can count. They were friends of Gorion amongst the Harper organization, apparently they have known me far longer than I have known them, but I do not remember them visiting me as a child. Regardless, at Gorion's behest I sought them out after his death at Sarevok's hands. The two are married, and while it may seem otherwise, their love is strong. It is another odd pairing; Jaheira is the most stubborn, headstrong, and demanding woman I have ever met (and it will be even worse should she ever read this), while Khalid's temperament seems to have no limits when it comes to patience._

_What else can I say? A mad ranger, a noble witch, an impish rogue, a domineering druid and a nervous fighter. This is the family I've made for myself, here on the road. I like to think Gorion would be proud of what I've done so far. Maybe continuing his journal is a way of keeping his memory close-_

A massive arm swung around, knocking the quill out of his hand and spilling the inkwell over the page Greywulf had just finished writing. The sorcerer half-elf tried not to curse as he saw Minsc finish stretching as he blinked twice, grinning as he sat up. "Good morning! Another day to be filled to the brim with butt-kicking and goodness! Isn't that right, Boo?"

A small hamster crawled out from seemingly nowhere into Minsc's hand, squeaking as the ranger peered down at the large smudge that now comprised the page Greywulf had been writing. "Hmm... Boo does not wish to be rude, but he says you are not a very good artist. Your picture does not look like a... whatever you were drawing."

Greywulf couldn't help but laugh; he stood, nodding once to Minsc before slipping out of his tent, letting a blast of morning air cover him. He looked up at the distant city of Baldur's Gate on the horizon, then at his companions, all scattered about the campsite doing one thing or another. "I guess that means I'm done writing history..." he murmured to himself. "Time to start making it."


	2. Part 1: A Coming Storm

_Author's Note: As a side note, the name I gave to the main character, Greywulf, is indeed similar to the bounty hunter Graywolf you fight in BG1. Chose the name before I even played BG1... Meh, talk about your coincidences._

Minsc rubbed his stomach with obvious satisfaction as he finished the last remaining morsel of food on his plate. "A magnificent meal! Dynaheir, Imoen, you two have made a meal fit to satisfy man, woman, or hamster. Boo expresses his approval as well."

"Uh… thanks, I think." Imoen said cautiously as she loaded the last of the food supplies into their packs.

"S-So, where are we headed after we reach Beregost?" Khalid asked.

"We should go to the town of Nashkel afterwards, to check on the situation there. We may have gotten rid of the iron shortage the last time we were there, but it is said they still reel from bandit attacks and others looking to take advantage of the situation." Greywulf shot a wry smile Jaheira's way as she finished speaking, amused at her ease in claiming leadership over the group.

He knew that while she did not attempt to undermine his authority in any way, shape or form, her personality was not so easily diverted. Greywulf thought back to when Jaheira and Khalid had first joined Imoen and him on their travels. Jaheira had, naturally, wanted to take the position of leader, not believing Greywulf to have nearly enough experience, skill, and from her caustic comments, intelligence, to lead the group. Still, Greywulf had demonstrated his abilities throughout their battles against Sarevok's forces and had earned Jaheira's respect and camaraderie. Even so, there was no stopping her from slipping back into her commanding personality every now and then.

"Jaheira's right. After Beregost, Nashkel is the only logical place to go. After that, perhaps a trip to Amn might be in order, maybe even an expedition to Rashemen." Greywulf confirmed.

"A trip to Rashemen!" Minsc boomed. "That would be a most excellent journey. Dynaheir and I would be able to complete my dajemma by telling of all the heroic things Greywulf, Minsc, and company have done. Plus, Boo has never seen the snowy land of Rashemen and would be very excited to do so."

Greywulf looked at the rest of his company and, having seen no signs of disapproval said, "It's settled then. After Nashkel, it will be onward to the land of Rashemen."

"But Minsc," asked Imoen, "Once you reach Rashemen again, won't that mean your dajemma is complete and you and Dynaheir won't be traveling with us anymore?"

"Hmm… this is true." admitted Minsc sadly. "Well, I suppose we could wait to see Rashemen until another day."

"I agree." frowned Dynaheir. "I do not believe that our time in these lands is over yet, nor our time with Greywulf."

"In that case, Minsc and Boo will be happy to stay with you and help you apply the triple boot stomp to the butt of any villain who dares show himself!" Minsc said happily.

Greywulf stared at Minsc for a second, shook his head, then turned and said slowly, "Right. So after Nashkel, our destination is Amn."

The rest of the group nodded agreement and grabbed their bags, preparing to head onto the road once again. As they started their trek across the field, Greywulf could barely hear Imoen at the end of the line asking Minsc if he'd ever considered getting restorative magic for his head. He stopped listening with a sigh while Khalid walked up beside him. "W-well, we certainly have come a long way since our meeting in The Friendly Arm Inn, haven't we?"

Greywulf nodded and said with a short laugh, "You could say that. I'm no longer the wannabe mage who only knew how to cast one Magic Missile. I've had good teachers in you and Jaheira."

Khalid shrugged embarrassedly, and said, "You've also done a good job in training Imoen in the m-magical arts. Soon she'll b-be as powerful as you, with thieving abilities to boot."

"True, but Imoen had to learn the art of magic through intense study." Greywulf said, brow knit in thought. "Not that I didn't have to study hard as well, but I seemed to be born with a natural ability to use magic, more of an intuition rather than a learned skill. Quite possibly a result of being born a Bhaalspawn."

"Yes, but what about Sarevok?" Khalid questioned. "He w-was a Bhaalspawn as well, and he didn't seem to have any magical abilities, other than the powerful Bhaal enchantments on his weapons and armor, like the sword you took from him."

Greywulf glanced back at Minsc who now wielded Sarevok's enchanted Sword of Chaos, and responded, "Well, I didn't say everyone who is a Bhaalspawn has magical powers, now did I?"

Khalid shrugged and slowly began to lag behind to keep pace with Jaheira, leaving Greywulf at the head of the line alone again. However, as they continued traveling, Greywulf's thoughts grew increasingly darker without someone to keep his mind occupied. _Khalid was right: We have all grown much since the beginning of this journey. But how many more enemies have we made along the way? And how many more are we going to attract through our current and future actions? My destiny as a Bhaalspawn is one that puts me in continuous danger: what right do I have to put my friends in this kind of risk?_

As these and more questions entered Greywulf's mind, he was jolted back to reality by a loud, inhuman screech, coming from a slightly forested area to their left. The entire party whirled around, moving into battle formation: Minsc, Khalid and Jaheira at front with melee weapons, Imoen behind them with bow drawn, and Dynaheir and Greywulf aside Imoen, ready to blast enemies with a wide range of spells. As the formation slowly moved further towards the trees, a barrage of arrows flew out, the majority missing, but a few requiring Khalid to block with his shield. Jaheira pulled one of the arrows out of Khalid's shield, her eyes burning with fury as she examined the arrow.

"Goblins!" she spat angrily, throwing the arrow to the ground, while moving back into battle position.

As soon as she said the word, as if it were a signal, massive hordes of goblins and orcs rushed out of the wood, brandishing clubs, swords and small wooden bucklers, ready to swarm over the group of adventurers. Their numbers were massive enough to cause concern; a bit of strategy might be required here.

"Hold steady!" Greywulf yelled, seeing Imoen begin to launch arrow after arrow into the oncoming swarm of beasts. He could hear Dynaheir uttering the words to cast her spells, as she sent a wave of magic missiles into a cluster of goblins, killing a few and wounding the others. While they drew closer, Greywulf launched his own barrage of spells, mostly fireballs, scorching and killing large groups of creatures every time a fireball detonated. When the goblins reached melee range, Minsc uttered a battle cry and waded into the goblins, hacking and slashing with his sword, cutting through the mass of beasts. Khalid followed suit, though with slightly more restraint than the berserker ranger. Jaheira acted with a cold precision that still impressed Greywulf. Her enchanted spear was thrust out lightning quick, impaling goblin and orc alike, but never leaving her open to attack for more than a split second. Even so, some goblins got past the three melee defenders, reaching Imoen. One ducked under a hasty swing by Khalid, coming up directly in front of the surprised Imoen. It swung his club, hitting Imoen squarely on the shoulder. The abrupt blow was just enough for her to drop her bow, stumbling backwards to avoid a second attack. Greywulf quickly turned and reduced the goblin to ashes with a Burning Hands spell, giving Imoen time to recover her weapon and fall back slightly, attacking from a safer distance. As the six heroes continued their struggle, Greywulf glanced back at the forest to see a number of orc archers hanging back in the trees, firing shots at the adventurers as well as providing cover for wounded goblins to retreat back to the wood.

"Dynaheir!" Greywulf shouted over the sounds of battle.

"What is it?" She yelled back to her fellow mage as she blasted another goblin away.

"Archers! Back in the trees! Give me enough time to prepare a spell!"

Dynaheir nodded and began to concentrate her spells around Greywulf, destroying any monster foolish enough to approach, while falling back to keep from being attacked herself. Though while Greywulf continued to prepare his spells, Minsc, Khalid, and Jaheira were slowly being pushed back as well.

"Greywulf! There are too many! We must fall back to regroup!"

Greywulf responded to Khalid's cry with a cry of his own, saying, "Just hold them off for a few more seconds!"

Minsc turned to his fellow fighters and yelled, "Let us provide him the time he needs! Go for the eyes, Boo! Go for the eyes! RAAGGHH!"

As the goblins were driven back slightly by Minsc's ferocious counterattack, Greywulf finished preparing his spell and began casting. Once he finished his incantations, multiple fireballs flew from his hands towards the orc archers in the trees. Their eyes opened wide in fear when they saw the balls of flame headed toward them, but they completely erupted into terror when they saw the fireballs' true target: the forest they hid in. As the flames began to engulf the trees around them, the remaining goblins and orcs fled the wood and were pushed out towards the battle, with no place to fall back to any longer. When Jaheira saw what Greywulf had done she gave a shout of triumph and began to push the lines of the goblins, forcing them back toward the burning wood, giving the choice of dying by sword, spear, spell, or fire. Once their escape route was cut off, the doomed creatures no longer possessed the morale or organization to pose a true threat. The rest fell quickly, mostly by the swords of Khalid and Minsc.

The six wearied adventurers finally gathered together to rest, discussing the recent battle.

"A most invigorating battle, eh Greywulf?" bellowed Minsc between breaths. "Good work has been accomplished today, and all the forces of good lift their voices in cheer. Even Boo, though he cannot cheer quite so loudly."

Before Greywulf could respond, Jaheira spoke up and said, "There are still things that disturb me about that battle, Greywulf."

"What are you talking about, Jaheira? The goblins attacked, we killed them and now we're resting, all's fine and dandy in the world we live in." Imoen said with a puzzled look on her face.

"No, Jaheira's right. There were more than a few oddities." Greywulf affirmed. "Why did we find so much gold on the goblin captains we killed? It was almost as if they had just been paid for something, say, attacking us. Why were there so many goblins and orcs? I realize that goblins live in large numbers, but that was an abnormally large force that attacked us. And besides, whoever heard of goblins having that much organization? Orcs maybe, but goblins never have the kind of sense they showed just now, or the restraint."

"Um, I noticed during the battle that different groups of goblins had different colors and armor on them, as though there were many different goblin clans fighting us at once." Khalid voiced.

Dynaheir nodded, saying, "That would explain the large number of attackers, as well as the amount of gold on the goblins. But who could have convinced the clans to cooperate? Goblins don't cooperate except in a select few circumstances. Whoever paid them must have also paid them to fight together, making them harder for us to beat."

"Possibly," Imoen admitted, "But why goblins? Even with the amount we fought against, we still were able to defeat them without much question of the outcome. I mean, goblins aren't exactly the toughest critters, even with the orcs helping."

They were abruptly interrupted by a laugh, one which did not exactly inspire thoughts of humor.A group of six cloaked figures stepped out from the still smoldering wood close by. "Those goblins were just there to soften you up. We'll finish the job!"

Greywulf and Dynaheir both immediately jumped back, launching fireballs at their new attackers. The others drew their weapons and watched as the fire engulfed the cloaked figures, expecting to see a few of them fall, but all were surprised to see the six walk out of the fire unscathed.

"Sorry friend, but you'll have to do better than mere fire tricks if you want to beat us." said one of the men, his cloak unmarked by the fire.

"Cloaks of Fire Resistance." Jaheira growled, recognizing the patterns on the men's robes.

As if in response, one of the figures threw a dagger that missed Greywulf's head by a hair's breadth.

"That was your only warning," said one of the men menacingly, pointing another dagger at the group. "Now you either come with us quietly or we take you by force."

"Ha," Greywulf laughed, "If you think we'll surrender, then whoever hired you didn't tell you much about us."

"All right then. We'll do this quick and painfully." said the speaker figure, as the others drew a mix of short swords and daggers.

Khalid and Minsc drew their swords, Jaheira brought her spear to battle position, Imoen placed an arrow in her bow, and Greywulf and Dynaheir brought their hands to bear, ready to cast.

"Fools." the cloaked man said as he pulled a potion from his robes. "Attack!"

The attackers leapt forward, slashing at their adversaries with a ferocity and quickness that pushed all six of them back.

"Imoen! Give us some cover!" yelled Jaheira as she parried two dagger slashes with her spear shaft.

"I'm trying, but they're too fast!" Imoen said frantically.

Imoen launched arrow after arrow towards the cloaked attackers, but each shot fell behind the amazingly quick men. As the battle continued, Greywulf, casting another few magic missiles, suddenly looked around and shouted, "Where's the sixth man? The one with the potion?"

A moment of silence followed the question, which was then interrupted by a scream of pain from Dynaheir. All turned to look, and saw the sixth man behind Dynaheir, his dagger buried in her shoulder.

"Dynaheir!" Minsc yelled ferociously. He rushed towards her and her attacker, disregarding his former opponents, ready to defend his witch, but when he reached her, the man had once again disappeared.

"What devilry is this!" yelled Minsc as he fended off another attack from behind him.

"Potion of Invisibility." Greywulf said as he leapt aside, dodging a sword slash. "Only explanation."

"The others must be using Potions of Speed!" Imoen cried out, insight coming to her even as she ducked under another attack.

Just as she spoke, a voice from behind her whispered, "Very good, little one. But it's time to shut you up for good."

Imoen whirled to the side just in time to dodge a dagger thrust by her invisible attacker, a blow that would surely have been mortal if it had connected.

Greywulf began another spell and as he cast it shouted, "Get ready to take them down! They won't be nearly as fast in a second."

Just as he finished speaking, the power of a dispel magic spell flew from his fingers and penetrated the bodies of everyone in the area. Immediately, the invisibility of the leader ceased and the others slowed down considerably, a fatal occurrence for one of the men who was in front of Jaheira's spear.

Imoen launched an arrow from her bow to slay one of the men reaching for another potion. Khalid and Minsc both immediately counterattacked as well, killing two more of them before they could reach their potions, while Greywulf 's acid arrow spell slew the fifth of the men.

"Now for you." Jaheira said, putting her spear to the leader's throat before he could bring the potion to his lips. "Tell us who hired you, and you might just live."

"I…I…I can't." the man said, trembling as he dropped his vial to the ground, shattering. "He'll kill me if I tell you anything!"

"And you think we won't kill you if you remain silent?" asked Greywulf, putting his quarterstaff next to Jaheira's spear.

The man looked at both Greywulf and Jaheira, as well as the other adventurers, gauged his chances of escape, and finally said, "All right, I'll tell you… just back off."

But as soon as Jaheira and Greywulf lowered their weapons, the man pulled another dagger with lightning speed and screamed, "I swear, I'll kill myself before I let that madman have me!"

He thrust the dagger into his own heart, dropping to the ground before the eyes of the group.

"Who do you think he was talking about?" asked Imoen as she helped the wounded Dynaheir to her feet.

"I don't know," said Greywulf with a grim expression on his face, "But one thing is certain…it's starting again."

X X X X X X X X

"Did you find anything on the bodies that might give us information about who hired them?" asked Dynaheir, her shoulder now cleaned and bandaged after her wound in the last battle.

"Not so far," Greywulf said as he rummaged through the pockets of the man lying dead before him, the man's own dagger through his heart. "Doesn't look like he left anything for us to… Wait. Here's something interesting."

"What is it?" Jaheira asked, her interest piqued.

Greywulf held up a scroll with a slight splatter of blood on it. "This scroll says something about me in it…"

As Greywulf continued to read the stained parchment, his eyes narrowed in anger, and when finished, he threw the scroll to the ground, cursing.

"What is it, Greywulf?" asked Imoen in a concerned voice.

Greywulf gritted his teeth, trying to settle the taint-driven anger welling inside him. "Just read this."

Greywulf picked up the scroll and handed it to Jaheira, who read aloud,

_To: All members of this guild._

_The man known as Greywulf, ward of Gorion, is herby targeted for capture, along with the girl Imoen, and the rest of their traveling companions. All necessary measures must be taken to capture Greywulf and Imoen alive. The others are unnecessary and may be disposed of at your leisure. The bounty on the two main targets is 50,000 gold each, while the price for each head of his companions is 10,000 each. Be warned, they are extremely dangerous, and are quite capable of dispatching any enemies who attack them directly._

"Guess these guys didn't listen to the part about direct attacking." said Imoen.

"No signature, or any sort of identification on who it's sent from, or who sent it." Jaheira said as she handed the scroll back to Greywulf. "So we're being hunted once again, and this time we don't even know who's after us."

"By the gods, this is getting old." Greywulf said, sighing. "How many people have been out for my death now? I bet I can tell you why they're coming after me, too."

His thoughts drifted back to what risks he put upon his friends by their presence. He owed them his life; didn't he owe them the chance to escape this constant torment and battle? He had long thought on this, whether he could in good faith keep them here with him and thus endanger their lives. After Sarevok had been killed he had hoped there would no longer be the need to consider it, but with thae attempts on his life renewed... He opened his mouth to speak, but Jaheira cut him off with the look that signaled the beginning of a retort.

"Do not even think of sending us away because you fear for our safety, child. We are not foolish; your ideas of noble self-sacrifice are wasted on us. Khalid and I accepted this risk when Gorion asked us to watch over you if such a thing was ever needed, we will not break that promise idly."

"Jaheira is right." affirmed Dynaheir. "Until thine safety is assured, Minsc and I shall fight by your side."

"Indeed!" Minsc bellowed. "Lead the way, and these new enemies will fall by our swords! You point, I punch!"

Imoen laughed and put her hand on Greywulf's other shoulder. "What, do you think I'm going to let you have all this fun and adventuring by yourself? Besides, that note said I was being targeted for capture too, for whatever reason that might be."

Greywulf raised his head with a smile and said, "Am I really that obvious?"

"You could never hide your emotions." Jaheira tsked. "By Silvanus man, it's like you wear them on your sleeve."

"Either way we should stay on our present course. If this mystery attacker is really out to get us, we'll see more of his handiwork, and hopefully we'll be able to find out what he wants with us." he said, straightening his posture a bit.

"I would agree," said Dynaheir. "If the assassins slain are but the beginning of the attacks, mayhaps we'll be able to get more information out of the next group that cometh."

"We do need to be more careful, though." said Greywulf. "Word will spread that we dispatched this group, and the next ones probably won't make the mistake of challenging us directly. Everyone stay alert. The attacks will come when we least expect it."

"Let them come!" cried Minsc. "For wherever Minsc goes, evil stands aside! As such, we will all be safe as long as Boo and I are here."

Greywulf smiled and spoke to Minsc, "I wish I had your confidence in this matter, my friend. But let's get packed up. We've wasted too many hours here already if we are to reach Beregost tonight. We may have to camp one or two nights in the wilderness before we get there."

"That's nothing new." said Imoen with a shrug. "It's what we've been doing since we started our journeys."

"True, but not even Sarevok had bounties this large on our heads. We don't know how long this bounty's been out, or how close other groups are to finding us. Sleeping out here isn't safe anymore. If we don't make Beregost by nightfall, we'll take turns keeping watch over the camp. Hopefully, it will be unnecessary."

The rest of the group nodded as Khalid spoke up and said, "I'll take the first watch tonight, if it comes to that."

Greywulf nodded as Jaheira said, "I will watch with you."

However, Khalid turned to Jaheira and said, "No, take your rest. I'll take this responsibility to bear myself."

"We'll all have to bear this responsibility eventually, so Khalid is right, Jaheira. Get sleep while you can. I have the feeling we'll need all the strength we can muster to make it to Beregost, much less survive the trip." said Greywulf, a serious tone to his voice.

* * *

Khalid yawned as he continued surveying the area around the campsite. Despite their best efforts, the group of six could not make the safety of Beregost by nightfall and were forced to camp about twenty miles away from town, thanks to the delay of fighting the goblins and assassins. _At least we didn't haven't had to fight anyone since the first two incidents,_ Khalid thought.

As he continued to watch the starlit night, he suddenly heard a sound, one that caused Khalid to flinch despite himself and turn to investigate. Khalid paused briefly to consider waking the others, maybe just Jaheira, but he eventually decided against it. It was probably nothing, and the rest of the group needed sleep. Besides, he would be waking Minsc up for watch duty in less than a hour, and he wanted Minsc to have as much rest as possible when he awoke... Minsc was somewhat notorious for falling asleep on guard duty.

So Khalid slowly walked towards the direction he had heard the sound, sword and shield at the ready. His eyes quickly flashed from side to side, trying to make use of his limited ability of infravision to spy any hidden danger, though nothing seemed to be forthcoming. Despite his best efforts, he could not find or hear anything else. _Still, I know I heard something out here. Oh well, I'll look over here tomorrow morning._ Khalid thought as he headed back to his post at the camp.

Waiting for another hour, and fighting off waves of sleepiness at the same time, Khalid slowly walked over to Greywulf and Minsc's tent, trying to ignore the loud rumblings emanating from it. Slowly slipping through the entrance, Khalid quietly slipped over Greywulf and towards Minsc, quickly rousing him. Just as Minsc began to wake, opening his mouth to bellow threats of butt kicking to whoever had awoken him, Khalid clamped his hand over Minsc's mouth, forcing Minsc to look at him, getting his attention before he woke everyone in the campsite, much less everyone in a mile radius.

"M-Minsc, it's your turn to watch over the camp; get dressed and get your armor on so you can stand guard."

Minsc looked at Khalid with a large smile and said in only a slightly hushed voice, "Do not worry, my warrior friend! Minsc and Boo shall stand guard, and let no messenger of evil pass into this camp! For Boo can sense it when evil approaches, and he will give us any warning needed."

Khalid smiled and nodded, heading back to his and Jaheira's tent, ready for a rest. He fell upon his bed by the sleeping form of Jaheira, who only moved briefly to embrace Khalid before she fell asleep again. As he listened to Minsc's footsteps patrolling the camp, he suddenly remembered the noise he had heard. _I forgot to tell Minsc about that. It was probably nothing, and if there was something, I'm sure Minsc can take care of it._ With that thought Khalid fell asleep, leaving Minsc the lone guardian of the camp. Throughout the night, Minsc changed guard position with Dynaheir, who later changed with Greywulf. After a while Greywulf changed with Imoen, who finally changed with Jaheira, who woke the entire group up at sunrise.

As everyone packed up their supplies and prepared to leave once again, Khalid quickly remembered his night experience and walked over to the area he had been in the night before. Greywulf walked up to Khalid and said, "Khalid, we're heading out now. You ready?"

"Y-yes, I was just looking around. Last night I heard something over in this area, but I didn't find anything. I just wanted to take one last look before we left this morning."

Greywulf nodded and walked back over to the rest of the group, leaving Khalid to his searching.

"Just don't take too long, Khalid, it might take us another day to reach Beregost, and we want to be as close as possible before nightfall." Greywulf tossed over his shoulder.

Khalid nodded as he continued searching the small area. As he looked through the dust and surroundings, he suddenly noticed something in the dirt, which glinted off the sunlight.

"Greywulf! J-Jaheira! All of you, come quickly!" Khalid yelled frantically.

The other five companions ran over to Khalid's side, where Khalid stood up, holding a small item, dusting it off.

"What did you find?" asked Greywulf.

"I'm not sure, but I think it must have been left by whatever I heard around the camp last night."

"You heard something and you didn't bother to tell any of us?" Jaheira asked her husband incredulously.

"W-w-well, I didn't want to disturb the whole camp over something that might not have been anything." Khalid stuttered with an embarrassed look on his face.

"Khalid, my dear," Jaheira sighed, "T'would take a sailor to untie that tongue of yours."

"J-Jaheira," Khalid protested, "Must you be so…so…"

"Insufferable?" Jaheira answered, her voice dripping with sarcasm.

"Yes! Yes, that's the w-word." Khalid confirmed.

"It's all right, Khalid." Greywulf said, trying to break the tension. "Let's have a look at what you found."

Khalid handed the item to Greywulf, who gazed at it for a few seconds. "It appears to be a clasp to a cloak, in the design of a black mask stabbed through by a dagger. Symbol ring any bells to you guys?" asked Greywulf.

The group shook their heads, until Dynaheir bent down towards a shrub and picked up a piece of cloth stuck to it.

"I recognize this. No doubt a part of the cloak that went with the clasp, and with an identify spell," Dynaheir said as she cast her spell upon the cloth, "We should be able to find out just what this cloth is made from. Ah yes, just as I had presumed. It is indeed part of a Cloak of Fire Protection."

"Just like the ones that the assassins were wearing." Jaheira said coldly, remembering the brutal fight.

"You know what these means, don't you?" said Greywulf warily. "If they were prowling around our campsite last night, it means they could have attacked at any time. And if Khalid hadn't been guarding us, they probably would have gone ahead and slaughtered us. They're being smart, waiting until we get sloppy before they attack."

"So what do we do now?" asked Imoen with a shiver born of more than just the wind.

"We make for Beregost. No breaks until an hour after dark." answered Greywulf after a moment of thought. "If we're quick, we just might make it there before night falls."

"But Greywulf, Boo and I must know why we run from this threat?" asked Minsc. "We have faced many other foes in our journeys, and we have dispatched them all. What makes these men so much tougher than the others to make us run like frightened prairie dogs?"

"Because for starters, we don't know anything about them other than the fact they want us dead. Well, most of us. And besides, I'd rather face them on our terms than be ambushed or surprised."

Dynaheir added, "Also, in waking up in the middle of the night for guard duty, I couldst only recover half of my spells I used yesterday. I imagine it is no different for thou, Greywulf."

Greywulf nodded, mentally cursing the properties of magic. If a lack of complete rest continued along with the use of spells in battle, soon, neither he nor Dynaheir would have the energy left to cast their spells, and would be dependent upon their comrades to fight, as well as their own somewhat unimpressive combat skills.

"I still have all my spells, Greywulf." said Imoen. "But after the battle with the goblins and the other guys, I'm starting to run low on arrows. I knew we should've stocked up while we were in Baldur's Gate."

"It's not just Imoen, I think we're all running low on supplies." sighed Khalid, looking in his pack.

Greywulf put his hands in his face, then looked up with a groan and asked, "So what are our options? Can we head back to Baldur's Gate, or will it be quicker to finish our trip to Beregost? Because if Baldur's Gate is indeed closer, I would just as soon head back there and regroup. It's not only better fortified, but the supplies are better. Plus, it may not be what these assassins expect. It might just throw them off our trail, for at least a few days. Also, we might even consider going to the Friendly Arm Inn. It's closer than both Beregost and Baldur's Gate."

"Beregost will be quicker." Jaheira spoke, shaking her head. "With the terrain we had to cross to get where we are, it will take maybe twice as long to get back to Baldur's Gate. Besides, there's no guarantee that going back to Baldur's Gate would afford us any extra protection than Beregost. If our attackers are as stealthy as they seem to be, they would have no trouble getting in after us. And as far as supplies are concerned, what with all the turmoil following Sarevok's bid for power, the majority of the supplies will be used in rebuilding. All the confusion will be perfect for assassins to ambush us in; Baldur's Gate is no longer a safe place for us. The Friendly Arm Inn might afford us some quick shelter, but the supplies there will not be suitable for restocking what we need. It would be folly to go to either city."

Greywulf sighed and said with a forced smile, "All right then Jaheira, if what you say is true, we should continue towards Beregost, and we also don't give these mystery assassins any opportunity to attack. Two people on guard duty from now on, to make double sure that we don't get taken by surprise. Imoen and I will take first watch tonight, followed by Minsc and Dynaheir, then Khalid and Jaheira. Hopefully, it'll be enough to discourage any attacks until we're restocked."

_And if we're lucky,_ thought Greywulf,_ these assassins aren't listening to our plans right now. Because with their skills, they could be within fifty feet of our group, listening to every word we say and we would never know it. _

The group nodded in understanding, and turned toward the beaten road, starting their journey once again. Meanwhile, in a darkened and smoke filled room of stone and chains, faraway from the six traveling adventurers, a figure shrouded in darkness stood, gazing into a magical cloud of mists which pictured the intrepid group on their road.

"Impressive," the man said with an amused tone to his voice. "Despite everything they have seen and undergone, they still believe they can escape me and my assassins. Poor, deluded Greywulf. Your end, as well as Imoen's and the rest of your friends shall come much sooner than you know… but not until I have gotten everything I want out of you."

The man's cold, emotionless tone was more sinister than any laugh could have been, and as the spell expired, the mists disappearing from view, he was left alone once again.

"Yes Greywulf… all hope you have of survival is doomed and fleeting as these mists. There is nothing in your power that you can do to stop me. No one can stop me. I am your doom."

The man left the room, his footsteps echoing down the stone floors, as Greywulf and company continued on their road to Beregost, unaware of the danger that threatened, and just as unprepared for the ordeal to come.


	3. Part 1: Darkness Rising

"We're not going to make it," called Imoen breathlessly as the group hiked to the top of a particularly large hill, the winking lights of the town of Beregost just barely visible way off in the horizon. "From the time it took us to get this far compared to the time it will take us to get the rest of the way to Beregost, we'll be at least one more night in the wilderness."

Greywulf turned over his shoulder and called back to Imoen, "I think you're right. This terrain seems so much tougher to cross when you're being hunted by ruthless murderers that see you as nothing more than a bag of gold to be collected. But then again, to each his own. Other people take nature hikes, we take survival runs."

The weak attempt at humor brought a smile to the faces of the group; Jaheira spoke up, "Greywulf, you continue to astound me… in a 'lord, what is wrong with him' kind of way. Even in the face of such danger, you still find the heart to go ahead and make light of the situation. You must be spending too much time around Imoen and her unfathomably cheery personality."

Dynaheir nodded and said, "Truly, it doth seem at times like Imoen and thou have the same blood running through your veins."

"No thanks," Imoen said with a look of fake revulsion. "I really don't want Bhaal doing me any favors, no matter what powers I might get. Seeing everything Greywulf has had to go through pretty much soured me on the idea, along with any thoughts of jealousy I had. Seems pretty darn disgusting to me... no offense to you of course, Greywulf."

"None taken." the mage said with a quick roll of the eyes as he began the walk down the hill.

"S-So, how far do you think we will get before night falls?" asked Khalid.

"Well," Jaheira said as she turned to him, "It really depends upon how far Greywulf is willing to travel in the darkness. If we continue until Beregost nonstop, perhaps another six hours worth of travel. If we stop when dusk falls, we will be about four miles away. Anything in between is really dependent upon Greywulf's judgment."

Greywulf smiled, slightly flattered that Jaheira trusted his decision in this matter. "I don't think it's safe for us to travel too far at night. Not only will it decrease our energy from lack of rest, but with the lack of visibility our chances of surviving a fight will be decreased even more. Like I said this morning, about one hour after darkness falls. After that, we implement the plans we discussed. Everyone remember?"

After Greywulf was satisfied that the group was solid on all of their plans, he turned back to the path ahead of him and kept walking.

"Minsc. Can I talk to you for a second?" Imoen asked as she ran slightly to catch up to the huffing and puffing Minsc.

"Well of course, small one. What did you wish to ask Minsc about? But firstly, if you were wondering, Boo is not for sale." Minsc said good-naturedly.

"I wasn't going to try and buy Boo from you! Where would you get that kind of idea?" asked Imoen with a laugh.

"Well, when we encountered that traveling turnip salesman gnome about a half hour ago, he tried several times to buy Boo from me, and when I refused, he then attempted to steal him! I believe his name was Jan… Jan something. Oh well, but it is a good thing Boo was safely kept in my possession, or else I might have had to beat the sneaky little gnome to reclaim my mentor. You know, Boo is not just any talking hamster. He is a miniature giant space hamster. Have I mentioned that before? I'm sure I have." Minsc said, trying to recall the events of the day.

"Yes, you have Minsc. Yes you have." Imoen said, trying not to laugh. "But anyway, I was wondering… you've never told me just how you and Dynaheir met. Nothing takes the mind off of a bounty hunt or assassination attempt better than a story, you know. Rashemani witches aren't just randomly assigned guardians who are on their dajemmas, are they?"

"Actually," Minsc said with a wistful look, "You are quite close. When a man starts his dajemma of protection, the decision on who will be his witch to protect is made with a very complicated and well thought out procedure. You see, two small cubes are gathered which have different numbers of black dots painted on them from one to six. Then they are thrown, which causes-"

Imoen interrupted Minsc with another giggle, and said, "Never mind. I think I'll just keep my questions to myself for now." Minsc shrugged and continued walking as he stroked Boo, sticking out of his belt pouch.

Greywulf, who had been half-listening to the conversation between Minsc and Imoen, shook his head and reminded himself never to ask Minsc anything about his homeland. While Rashemen was indeed known as a place of wonder and myth, the way Minsc described it made Greywulf a little… hesitant, to visit the land. _But with the way things are progressing right now,_ Greywulf thought, _We might never get to see Rashemen._

The events of the past came back to Greywulf once again, filling him with a sense of uneasiness. _They're going to attack tonight, I just know it. It'll be their only shot, unless they want to risk following us into the city, where we can restock and get rested. Nope, it'll have to be tonight. And I guess we'll just have to be ready for them, because if we're not, I don't think we'll get another chance._

A glare of light suddenly blasted Greywulf out of his thoughts as he saw the sun setting behind the mountain line, bringing darkness in its absence.

"All right everyone!" Greywulf yelled. "We move for another hour, and then we stop. I don't know about you, but I can't go the rest of the way without some sleep."

Minsc nodded vigorously and said loudly, "I am in hearty agreement! I was ready to walk for another day, but Boo here was growing tired, and needed rest soon."

"Of course Minsc, it is thine hamster who needs rest." Dynaheir smirked.

"I'm serious! Boo was beginning to grow faint with tiredness! After all, hamsters grow tired quickly with exertion, even giant space hamsters as well."

Minsc continued his protests to Dynaheir while Greywulf scanned the horizon for any type of threat or movement.

"See anything?" whispered Jaheira to Greywulf, not wishing to disturb his concentration.

"Nothing. Although I don't know whether that worries me more or less than being able to see our adversaries. It's so much easier when the enemy is right before you and you know what you have to do. But all this sneaking around, subterfuge… it's just not my style, or my area of expertise."

"Don't worry." said Jaheira. "I'm sure this will all turn out for good. You've led us this far without too many major screw-ups."

Greywulf shot a mock look of surprise at Jaheira as she smirked back at him.

"My, Jaheira, you're getting better at the jokes. Pretty soon you'll be put in charge of keeping the group in good humor."

"Not hardly. This is a once in a lifetime thing, so enjoy it while you can." she called as she walked back to join Khalid.

Greywulf nodded with one final smile, and then continued down the slope of the hill, struggling to keep a solid footing as they descended through the rocky and uneven hillside. When the group finally reached the bottom, the sky had completely darkened, leaving the only natural light to shine from the stars and moon. As they began to unpack their tents and supplies, Greywulf stood alone, gazing at the stars. He grimaced as he saw a group of clouds slowly begin to move across the sky, beginning to obscure the moon first and slowly all of the heavenly light.

_An omen. _Greywulf thought to himself as the shadows covered his face completely. _A bad omen. I just pray that it's for the people stalking us…_

"Greywulf!" called Imoen with a grin as she continued setting up her tent. "Quit stargazing and help Minsc set up your tent, unless you want to be sleeping in a lopsided, half collapsed tent all night."

He nodded, but as he walked over to Minsc... a noise in the wind, as that of a cloak rustling around a man.

Greywulf stiffened, gripping his quarterstaff tighter, he quietly tapped Minsc, pointing at Minsc's sword. Minsc nodded gravely, and slowly approached Jaheira and Khalid, while Greywulf walked over to Imoen and Dynaheir. Soon, all six adventurers had their weapons silently at the ready, listenening, alert for the slightest hint of sound or movement. Another rustle was heard, only this time behind the group of six, causing three to turn around slowly, searching that direction now.

Greywulf whispered to Dynaheir and Imoen, "We won't find them, you know. Not with their skills and the darkness concealing them."

Dynaheir kept watching while Imoen whispered, "What are you suggesting?"

Greywulf shook his head and replied, "The only survivable option we have. The insane one, but survivable. Tell the others to prepare for a fight. Once you have, Imoen, you get ready to fire some arrows, and Dynaheir, you do as I do."

The two nodded and whispered their brief message to the three fighters, and then assumed their positions.

Greywulf took a deep breath and then began his incantations. As soon as he started, Dynaheir followed suit with the same words, and within a split second of each other, fireballs erupted from their grasp, setting ablaze all the grass and greenery they touched, lighting up the whole hillside in intense flames. As the light shone out, Greywulf saw what he had feared: a group of nearly thirty men in cloaks, once hidden in the darkness, but now uncovered and ready to fight.

Silently the cloaked figures all began to charge, daggers and swords poised to strike. The sorely outnumbered adventurers gathered together in a circle formation, engaging the enemy one by one as they reached striking range.

Imoen ducked a sword slash, shooting an arrow into the stomach of the attacker, only to dodge another man's attack. Greywulf used a Burning Hands spell, killing another of the men, yet narrowly avoiding a thrown dagger. Minsc and Khalid were doing their best to slay their foes as quickly as possible, but as fast as they killed one, two more rushed to take their place.

"What can we do?" yelled Imoen as she immolated another man with her fire magics. "There are too many, and more are coming!"

Greywulf paused for a split second to look upon the top of the hill they had just climbed, and confirmed Imoen's suspicions… more cloaked figures were descending the hill, some wielding swords, others holding bows and arrows.

"We cannot defeat them all!" Dynaheir cried as she slew another man with her magics.

"I will not let us be taken!" Minsc shouted, slipping into a berserker rage. "RAGGHHHH!"

"Minsc, no!" yelled Greywulf as Minsc charged out from the formation, swinging his sword wildly.

As Greywulf jumped out and charged toward Minsc, hoping to return him to his senses, a lightning bolt shot across the hill, causing all to look at the source. Three more cloaked men were slowly walking towards the battle, nearly at the bottom of the hill, but these were in mage robes.

"You have all fought well," said one man, the remnants of the lightning crackling in his hand, "But it is folly to continue. You will lose."

"He is right." said another of the mages. "Surrender to us and you may yet live."

"Yes, surrender." said the last one. "You cannot stand against the enemies you fight now, much less the power we wield."

The assassins all stopped fighting for a few seconds, giving the six time to respond.

"Minsc and Boo shall never surrender!" roared Minsc, still in a rage. "We will destroy all our enemies, tricky mages or not!"

"Calm down Minsc." Greywulf whispered through gritted teeth. "We need you with your senses intact, not a mindless brute."

Turning to the mages, Greywulf approached slightly, the nearby assassins tensing with his approach. A sword rose to halt any further progression and so he stopped, staring down the three wizards above, "Surrender is impossible. We will not yield to you or your master. But… we do have much gold. Will you accept a bargain, gold for our safe passage?"

The rest of the group looked at Greywulf in astonishment except for Jaheira, who shouted at Greywulf, "No negotiations with these dogs! We cannot trust any of them to keep their word, Greywulf."

"We have no other choice, Jaheira!" Greywulf yelled back. "There are too many to kill!"

Jaheira cursed as she turned back towards the three, knowing the truth of Greywulf's statements.

Laughter erupted amongst the men, whereupon one said, "What need have we of your gold? You know the prices on your heads. I'm sure that you cannot hope to equal the amount being offered for you."

"Try us." Greywulf said, bluffing. He knew that the group did not have enough gold to pay off the men, but perhaps a bluff would buy them enough time to escape, regroup… Minsc shouted without warning, "No more talking! Now you will feel the wrath of Minsc and Boo!" Minsc then charged at the three men, sword upraised, ready to hack them into pieces.

One of the men nodded, a creeping smile barely visible under his cowled face.. "So be it." He released a Spell Trigger, sending another lightning bolt to catch Minsc square in the chest, knocking him backward into the ground. Another snapped his fingers, and at that moment all the cloaked figures continued their attacks, while the three mages began casting spells upon the already wearied group.

Greywulf charged up the slope, only pausing to dodge a sword attack, until he stood face to face with the three men.

"You want me? All right, I'm here. Take me, and let the others go."

"Such selflessness on your part." sneered one of the mages. "But the reward is much larger if we have the rest of your companions."

"And besides," one said as another finished his incantations, "It's so much more fun this way." The spell crackled into another lightning bolt, knocking Greywulf to the ground, curled up in pain. _That bolt was unlike anything I've felt before. If it weren't for the Cloak of Balduran, that bolt would have tore through me completely._ As Greywulf tried to get up, a group of magic missiles struck him down once again as the three mages laughed.

"The biggest mistake you ever made was challenging us. Your powers are nothing compared to ours combined."

Imoen looked up to see Greywulf get blasted with another spell, responding with a quick arrow in desperation, trying to turn their attention. The arrow flew by one of the men, narrowly missing his arm.

"You'll wish you never did that." growled one of the mages as he cast a Chain Lightning spell at Imoen. It hit her, blasting everyone around her as well. It's power was such that it even killed some of the nearby assassins, dropping Dynaheir and Imoen both. The sight of Dynaheir falling was enough to bring Minsc back to his senses, and he rushed over to her fallen body and began to defend her with all his might.

"Your friends continue to fight. Why?" asked one of the mages to Greywulf as he blasted Greywulf once again, not waiting for an answer.

"Just... call us thick-headed." Greywulf whispered weakly as he managed to uncork the last healing potion on his belt, swallowing it's healing liquid with shaking hands.

"You think that will save you?" another sneered as he shot a group of magic missiles at the faltering Khalid, not even bothering to look at the man on the ground any longer.

Greywulf did not answer him; he only snarled as his hands spat out one of the few spells he could still conjure, a flurry of magic missiles at one of his opponents.

The mage grunted in pain as the spell struck him, and then hissed, "You will learn your place, weakling!"

A renewed barrage of magic hit Greywulf, but somehow the man managed to stay conscious.

"I must admit, your resilience is impressive, as is your tolerance for pain. If you weren't worth so much I might have considered letting you join our group. With more experience you could have grown as powerful as we. But we'll never know now, will we." said one of the men as he fired another spell at Minsc.

"I… guess we won't." muttered Greywulf, draining the last remnants of energy he held to fire one more spell. The Melf's Acid Arrow hit the mage he had wounded earlier, the mage either too slow or too overconfident to summon a simple protective shield. He fell to the ground, unbelief on his face as he expired. The sight of one of the enemy mages falling was a brief glimmer of hope for the five others who were fighting valiantly, but it was squelched almost immediately when an assassin slipped by a reverse spear thrust from Jaheira, drawing a knife across the side of her face. Blood flowed quickly from the wound as she fell to her knees, dropping her weapon in agony from the fire consuming her face.

Khalid immediately ran to her side, standing firm as she attempted to get to her feet... but his sword blows as well as Minsc's were growing weaker and slower, fatigue and exhaustion slowly taking their already battered bodies. Greywulf's mind thudded with desperation, screaming at him to come up with something, anything to save them. He always had before… when things had looked their worst, he had come up with the one plan, the one idea to rescue them from certain doom, however ridiculous or ill-conceived it was. The echo of a cry from Minsc slipped into his foggy thoughts, enough that he craned his neck just far enough to see him on one knee, a large sword wound gouged in one arm. He couldn't hold his sword up on the left side, and he watched him quickly get beaten into unconsciousness, a sword pommel bashing into the back of his head.

"Your friends are all but fallen. Inevitable, as we said earlier. Any last words before it's over?" the mage said with a vicious smile as he pointed at Greywulf, a flash of energy already forming at the tip of his finger.

It was too late. After fighting through the machinations of Sarevok and a near war, hordes of assassins and bounty hunters, it came down to this. Just another target on someone's list… and this one got lucky. For all his trickery, his wit and what some called uncanny luck, he was out of ideas. No more fancy plans, no more last minute flashes of brilliance or inspiration. All that was left was the final stand of defiance.

"Yeah," Greywulf said as he spat at the man before him, "Go to he-." Before he could finish speaking, a boot slammed into the temple of his head, driving him to blissful unconsciousness.


	4. Part 1: First Blood

_Author's Note: Big thanks to the folks who reviewed; Any advice is always helpful in making the story content better. Hope the length of this chapter makes up for the fairly short one last time... _

_Didn't get around to posting this before in the other chapters, but as always: General Disclaimer! None of these characters belong to me, with the exception of Greywulf. I do not own Baldur's Gate, Wizards of the Coast etc… _

Pain. Darkness. Death. Those three thoughts came flashing through his mind, time and time again. The laugh of Sarevok echoed in his mind, the deep throaty bellow that had haunted his waking and sleeping hours after Gorion had been slain. The visions and constant nightmares had ceased long ago, but they returned now with a vengeance as they taunted him with their malice, swirling in his head like a maelstrom of evil. He heard Sarevok chuckle once more, then begin repeating the words to the prophecy that consumed him since the day he had read them. _The Lord of Murder shall perish-_

A sharp pain lanced through his mind causing tears to well in his eyes even as he lay curled up and alone, unaware of his surroundings or environment. _But in his death he shall spawn-_

A sharp scream echoed through the darkness he was enveloped in, though the rawness of his throat proved it was his scream, and definitely not the first of such. _A score of mortal progeny._

The visions of his friends danced in his mind, their bodies hewn and desecrated before him. No. This wasn't real. He had seen them. They were still alive. They couldn't be-

_CHAOS-_

The voices of his comrades began floating to him, screams of agony as they died and died over and over again, searing his heart and mind with each murdered cry, each one bearing down upon him mercilessly.

_SHALL-_

"No."

_BE-_

"No!"

_SOWN-_

"Stop!"

_IN-_

"STOP!"

_THEIR-_

"Please…"

_PASSAGE!_

A sliver of light began opening above him, glaring even as his eyes slowly fluttered open, blinded by the new source. Tears blurred his vision, but as he wiped his face with his hands, he found them wet, slick and unable to dry his face. The light opened a bit more, enough to shine down upon his hands, his mind screaming at him as he looked upon them. Blood. Blood covered his hands, dripping and pouring as though the source was convulsing inside his hands, flowing afresh as it pulsed from him.

He tried to close his eyes again, but he could not, and so he ran, ran away from the light and into the darkness, trying to do something, anything to assuage the guilt and the voice of death pounding in his ears. The light was not forgiving, and it followed him, always centered upon his hands, leaving a trail of blood behind him as it dripped and covered the ground. The light blazed once more, this time in front of him as he stopped in his path. He tried to look away, but his body would not respond; a pile of bodies, some he recognized, some he did not, but each and every person or creature he had slain lay before him, an expression of death the likes he had never seen.

Lying in a small pile in front of the larger one, the five bodies of his companions were stacked, hewn and crushed, barely recognizable. Lying with them was one more corpse, that of Sarevok. He was dead, that was certain, but his glowing yellow eyes remained open, boring into him as he met their lifeless gaze. His mouth opened and began speaking once more, uttering the same accursed words.

_"The Lord of Murder shall perish, but in his death he shall spawn a score of mortal progeny."_

The half-elf screamed as he fell to his knees, covering his ears to drown the torment out, but the blood… the blood flowed into his ears and amplified the cries of death, the voices of his dead allies joining Sarevok in the relentless chant.

_"Chaos shall be sown in their passage!"_

_"Chaos shall be sown in their passage!"_

_"CHAOS SHALL BE SOWN IN YOUR PASSAGE!"_

Greywulf's body gave way as he fell to the darkness, curled up in despair and agony. His voice was but a whimper as he cried out, "I'm sorry… sob please, make it stop… I'll do anything, just make them stop… please…"

X X X X X X X X

Her eyes were transfixed upon the sight before her, the corpse of what had once been her friend. The dark man with her had led them to this place, a room of tortures and blades. He had not said a word their entire walk, still silent even as he watched her look upon the dead half-elf. His hand was calm and steady as he picked up the stone blade sitting there before them. Her heart quickened with terror as he brought it close to her vision, dancing before her sight as the sparse bits of light gleamed upon its rough edges.

She tried to run, but her will was overwhelmed by the magics surrounding her as she continued to stare. The knife disappeared for a moment, then reappeared next to the body before her. She instinctively knew what was to come, and though she had seen many men die by the sword, some even by her own, her body still went numb as she saw the knife plunge into the corpse, cutting flesh and spilling blood onto the cold metal table it lay upon. It reemerged, hesitating for the briefest of seconds before cutting again, flaying open muscle and bone to the eye. Something inside her called out with the sight, something alien and unnatural… and yet it was welcoming, instinctive.

She was horrified and intrigued by this calling, but her mind pushed it away with the greatest of effort, refusing to let this torture claim her. His hand swept into her vision, cupping up some of the blood pooled before her. Most dripped out, but she felt his hand on her face, staining it with the blood of her friend. Her brain finally succeeded in forcing her eyes closed, sickened and horrified by the gruesome sights before her, the undeserving and terrible desecration of what had been Khalid, but she was rewarded only by searing pain, a cut across her eyelid from the same blade, not satiated with the blood of the dead, but desiring that which still flowed afresh. Her eyes flashed open again, one burning with the blood welling there from the cut, but all went silent and numb as the man finally spoke, his voice more painful and dreadful than anything Imoen had imagined.

"Do you see?"

X X X X X X X X

The big man kicked and screamed as the pair of golems gripped him tighter, moving inexorably towards a large iron cage tucked inside the darkened corner of the dungeon. His strength was mighty, greater than the dark man watching had ever seen in a human, but he was still just that... human. Were the ranger still equipped with the magical sword he had originally possessed, things could have been different, but he had stripped them of any equipment, giving most of it as reward to his assassins, keeping a few pieces for study. With something of a surprising requirement of effort, the clay golems tossed him inside the cage, slamming the door closed as the infuriated ranger leapt to his feet and grabbed the door, shaking it as he attempted to free himself.

Despite his distance from the cage, he could see the hinges and joints of the opening mechanism rattle, and there would be little time before his berserker strength freed himself. The dark man shrugged as he pointed one palm at the cage from his shadowed hiding spot, letting an Aganazzar's Scorcher spell jut forth, melting the mechanism and fusing the joints shut. Within moments, the cell was completely welded closed, no way in or out. The trapped mammoth of a man continued to try and escape, still unaware of his presence. He could tell just by looking at the ranger that while his strength was impressive… his mind left something to be desired. Very little wisdom or intelligence lay inside that purple tattooed head, although if his battle cries were any indication, he had a very clear definition of good and evil, and it was rather plain which side the ranger aligned himself with.

Still, the man was not insane, despite his ramblings and stupidity. However… it would be an interesting experiment. How much torment, how much psychological pressure does an already unstable man require to be pushed completely over the edge? The shrouded figure thought for a moment, then came to the logical conclusion. He gestured to the clay golems, and they left, headed for the other prisoners that were still awaiting his judgment on their fate. The golem returned within a few minutes, holding the unconscious body of the dark-skinned woman. Her robes were that of a mage's, though her powers were… insignificant, to say the least, when compared to his own.

As the woman's body came into view of the ranger, his eyes widened, her name echoing from his mouth alongside various warnings of wrath if she were to be harmed. The mage raised one eyebrow. Apparently this Dynaheir was very close to the ranger. This would be better than he had expected. As the golem looked to him, awaiting instructions, he noticed that the berserker ranger had ceased his cries, fearful anticipation on his face. The dark man let the silence stand for a few seconds that must have seemed like eternity to the imprisoned one... then nodded, his instruction clear to the golem holding the woman.

The dark man left amidst the sound of crunching bone and clay fists pounding flesh, but the screams from the ranger were no longer that of rage and vengeance, but of despair and anguished sorrow as the solemn oath Minsc had sworn so many miles back in Rashemen was broken before his eyes, never to be fulfilled.

X X X X X X X X

The half-elven woman's vision was a swirling mess of colors and shapes before her, finally settling into what appeared to be a dungeon of some sort, though she could not be certain, so fuzzy and jumbled were her thoughts. She attempted to stand, pulling herself to her feet, but found that her legs could not stand the weight and she collapsed once more, falling into the embrace of the cold, wet stone beneath her. The incessant dripping of water upon a metal shackle lying outside her cage was enough to keep her focused as she summoned every ounce of will she had remaining to try again, grabbing hold of anything around to support herself, gritting her teeth to stand… finally. She was in an iron cage, the door closed and locked, though the room was enough for her to move had she the balance.

The world tilted and swayed before her, dizzying and threatening to fell her again, but she shut her eyes until the feeling lessened slightly. Her eyes opened however, to a strange sight, the door enclosing her open wide this time. She did not question, but immediately stumbled forward, catching herself on the bars before finally leaving the cell completely. The paths and room before her cleared, and a faint glimmer of sunlight at the end of the chamber before her drew her in, calling to her. Her unsteady stumble was all she could manage, but she kept moving, unwilling to give in. She passed another cage, so similar to hers as she went, stopping briefly to glance inside. Imoen lay there, unconscious yet seemingly in good health.

She shook her head as she saw it, the body swirling and wavy in her vision. She blinked once, trying to bring her mind to clarity, but nothing was forthcoming. There was no apparent way to open her cell, so she kept moving, promising herself that once her mind was clear, once she could think... Imoen would be freed; she would return and aid her escape. All she needed was some rest, a weapon maybe…she kept stumbling, leaving her behind. Next was a wall of shackles, Dynaheir sagging in the bonds she passed. The woman was in much the same condition of Imoen, and she stumbled over, pulling on her chains in a vain attempt to free her or wake her. It was futile though, and she was soon on her way once more, promising the same rescue for Dynaheir.

Minsc was passed in a globe of imprisonment magic, but until her druidic powers were focused again, she could not dispel them. Greywulf had been placed in a open room, unbound or shackled, but two golems stood by him, their red glowing eyes constantly scanning the room for any intruders. With no weapon, she would be killed attempting to free him. Once she was armed, he would be rescued, that she swore. Passing those four, she found herself so close to the light, so close to grass and sun and trees and rivers and the freedom of the outside. As soon as her feet touched the grass and dirt of the outside world, she sank in relief, letting herself sprawl flat upon the warm ground. Before she could enjoy the moment, a voice entered her mind, shattering her thoughts. "J-Jaheira! What are you doing? Y-you left them all to die!"

Her head snapped up to see Khalid before her, his face one of disapproval and disbelief. "Khalid! What are you-"

"N-Not that I should be surprised I-I suppose! You've always been so g-good at making oaths, promises! Protect Gorion's ward! P-Protect the balance! Always giving your word yet never keeping it! You even leave o-our friends to die in there, Jaheira!"

"I… I had no choice, Khalid!"

"But you d-did, Jaheira! You always do! I-I wonder, were I in there, would you have given me a second glance? It's obvious you care for nobody but yourself, J-Jaheira!"

"No Khalid, you can't mean that!"

"Do as you will, Jaheira. I would rather die with our friends than endure any more of your venomous insults and selfish attitudes." Khalid turned away from her and strode past her, back into the dungeon she had just left. She struggled to her feet, trying to follow him, but her mind was suddenly clouded once more, falling to the coruscating ground beneath her. Khalid stopped briefly to look back at her pleading face, then turned and marched into the blackness before him, disappearing into its shadows completely. As soon as he vanished from sight, the stone walls closed up, blocking off any further entry. Jaheira moaned as she pulled herself up to slam against the barrier, Khalid's name falling from her lips as she pushed at the unmoving wall.

As she groaned, slamming her hand against the stone floor she lay upon, the man outside her cage watched with interest, his telepathic magics allowing him to watch all of the dark visions passing through her head. Her will and spirit were both strong, and she could prove to be a most interesting subject for study. She could live, for now. More than interesting though, was the guilt she bore within. She was strong true, but the emotional scars she held were numerous. Guilt over not telling Greywulf of his heritage. Guilt over the way she tended to treat her companions. Even guilt over her very association with the Bhaalspawn, his presence in direct opposition to the balance she professed to protect.

One particular scar that was foremost in her mind was for the death of Gorion, though she had no real reason to blame herself. As he turned away, letting the drugs he had poisoned her system with play out within her, he wondered with a brief smile just how many more scars and burdens of unwarranted guilt she would carry if she ever did manage to escape…

X X X X X X X X

"Your payment is adequate, yes?" the cloaked man in the shadows fidgeted anxiously as the two men inspected the items given as well as the sum of money they had been paid, ensuring the accuracy of all the bounty earned.

Arkanis took the money as well as the items and began inspecting them, tugging his hood over his face a bit more as the rain's din against the street and houses nearby increased. Their contact had asked to meet in this particular alley tonight, and they had no choice, despite the particularly inclement weather. As he looked over the proffered items, Arkanis could not suppress a slight tingle as he gazed at the spoils of the hunt, even though he had not been a part of it. The money was all well and good, but these… these items were truly magnificent. Armor and weapons of great magic. These adventurers had done quite well for themselves, and were of great skill as well, if the number of casualties they had inflicted upon their hunters was any measure. Three of their mightiest arch mages assigned specifically to their leader, and only two of them returned.

Arkanis turned to his companion and nodded, assuring him that all was as promised. The other man returned the look with a grim smile, knowing that most of these weapons and much of the gold would be put to use right away, purchasing new supplies and equipment for the guild war. This particular job paid enough that the Shadow Master had been willing to launch an all-out assault to capture their targets, no other amount would have warranted so many deaths. Yachmoto spoke, "Yes… it appears to be in order. Though our prey was a bit more… troublesome, than we would have liked."

"We did warn you that the targets would not be easy to capture." the hooded man hissed, his yellowish eyes gleaming just slightly from under his cloak.

Despite himself, Yachmoto found himself shivering just slightly. He was used to dealing with shadows and the like… but there was something unnatural about this particular employer. His thoughts were even more troubled with the personal loss he had endured as of late, losing his only brother Narilto, disappearing from a group that had been decimated by an ambush. His body had never been found, but Yachmoto held little hope of him still being alive. As he tried to shunt away the sorrow that came with the thought of him, he fingered the small medallion he wore, one of a pair he and his brother had worn since they were children.

"Nonetheless, they has been delivered as promised and you have been paid. Our business is concluded." the man growled, bringing Yachmoto back to the present just as their contact began to turn away from the pair and retreat into the alley's shadows behind him. As he did, his hood slipped open just slightly, enough for a small medallion of gold to lose its footing with the man's robes, glinting in view for the briefest of seconds. Yachmoto's eyes widened at the sight and his hand darted out to grab the man's shoulder, whipping him around to see the medallion in clear view. His hand clasped it and pulled, snapping the chain holding it to its owner's neck, while the thief drew his dagger and put it to the surprised man's throat.

"Where did you get this?" he hissed, holding the medallion up. As if on cue, a crack of lightning flashed through the sky, illuminating the alleyway they stood in for a brief moment. In that time, the face of the man he held at knifepoint was revealed underneath the cloak. Yachmoto's arm unclenched for a brief second as he whispered in shock, "Narilto?"

The man did not respond but with a snarl, seeing his opportunity as Yachmoto glanced down to the medallion he wore around his neck. His right arm slashed out to knock away the weapon, the other sending a dark ray of magic to strike Arkanis before the thief could draw his katana, sending him stumbling backwards and crashing to the ground. Yachmoto attempted to reach his primary weapon, but the man whipped a second backhand out, this one catching him just under the chin. As he fell back as well, all he could see amidst the torrent of falling raindrops was the agile man leaping away with dexterity far greater than any normal man.

He immediately climbed to his feet and drew his sword, Arkanis doing the same. "What was that?"

"Narilto… he was my brother." Yachmoto said in barely contained shock as they attempted to follow the fleeing creature, just staying within visual range. "That was him, I know it. But his face, it was…. it was no man."

They turned one last corner to catch a glimpse of his cloak disappearing into an abandoned tunnel in the center of the Promenade buildings. The very place they had met the employer who had bid them capture the band of adventurers. Realization hit them both... they had been played for fools.

"Go and inform the Shadow Master." Arkanis spat. "He must know of this betrayal. The war will end here, where it began."

X X X X X X X X

Greywulf awoke from dark dreams and into a darker nightmare. As his vision slowly cleared, Greywulf painfully took in his meager surroundings. An old but obviously powerful cell surrounded him, one whose confining space kept him from doing much except turning around and lying down. His very bones ached with the punishment he had already endured, but he managed to began his incantations through cracked and parched lips, willing himself to cast the simplest of opening spells to free himself. However, the spell only fizzled against the bars, proof of magic resistant wards on it.

_I hope the others were able to escape, especially Imoen. If I've been captured by the same people who wanted her, they mustn't get her! _As Greywulf took clearer note of the area around him, he shuddered to see that the cell he resided in was a part of a large dungeon and torture chamber. Manacles and bloodied implements of torture were strewn all about, and the acrid smell of blood was thick in the air. The smell jolted to mind the dreams he had undergone while unconscious, and he quickly raised his hands to see them, breathing a sigh of desperate relief that they were dirty and dry, not soaked in the blood of the dead.

As he collapsed against the side of his cell, eyes closed as he tried to regain some measure of strength, he began to hear noise from the darkened back of the room, but even if he had the strength to look, the room was too shadowed for even his limited infravision. Greywulf sat for another few minutes until he felt enough energy to move once more, then began to search the small cell, hoping to find something of use, but there was nothing. All his possessions except the clothes he wore were gone as well, except, he found gratefully, the small adventuring book Gorion had given him so long ago, still tucked inside his boot.

"Ah, so the Child of Bhaal has awoken."

The voice cut into Greywulf's mind, chilling his flesh at the sound. Greywulf craned his neck to the side to see the source of his torment, and instantly wished he hadn't. What appeared to be a man stood in front of his cell, wearing a dark pant suit, bare chest, with armor plates covering his shoulders and neck, and a long robe flowing down his back. However, his face was the most horrific. Scars and veins ran thick across his face, stopping just before his ears, where a head covering seemed to be stitched directly onto his head. Whether it was a mask he wore or his true skin, it mattered little for the horror it brought to mind. His was a grotesque visage, though more troublesome was the absolute calm, emotionless exterior he possessed. No sign of glee or sinister victory, but a mask of stillness and analytical terror. He felt as though the man studied him with no more care than an animal or mindless beast, something to be analyzed and discarded.

"Where… where are my friends?" Greywulf asked, his voice hoarse but still indwelt with the commanding presence he had gained through his travels.

The man before him seemed amused by this and merely pointed a long finger at him, saying, "It is time for more… experiments."

Greywulf was about to ask again until a blast of magical flame engulfed him, sending him writhing to the ground.

"What are you doing?" Greywulf growled, anger and pain fueling his body, enough energy to struggle to his feet.

The man silently cast another spell, sending coruscating lightning to rain upon the captured mage, striking him down again. Greywulf shrieked in pain as the bluish bolts surged through him in sequence, each one striking him harder than the last, until it was all he could do to stay awake. Just before he blacked out, the attack stopped, leaving thin wisps of smoke coming from his worn and battered body.

"The pain will only be passing; you should survive the process." his captor said, renewed magic forming at his hands he prepared another spell.

When Greywulf finally came to again, body still spasming from the tortures that had continued long after he had fallen unconscious, his tormentor was still standing outside the cell, an expression of what could be construed as curiousness on his face.

"Interesting. You have much untapped power."

"Interesting…ugh… Y'know what else's cough interesting? You're an ugly sonofa-"

The man cut his curse off with a Bigby's Crushing Fist, contracting his body to the breaking point, then releasing before repeating the torment time and time again.

Greywulf kept his teeth clenched shut, refusing to give him the satisfaction of hearing him cry… but it was too much. He could not suppress another cry of pain, then collapsed in relief to the cold cell floor when the spell finally expired. He never saw the next spell hit, or the one after, or the one after that.

In an adjoining room, the young, scarred girl hunched over in her own cell shuddered with the sound of screaming echoing through the halls. She recognized the voice, and she had never heard him in such agony before. The cries stopped briefly, but then were redoubled alongside the thundering spatters of spells igniting with such furious haste that it sounded as though several mages were fighting all at once, but she knew the truth. She knew it was one man, if he could even be called such. She curled up at the side of the cell, praying for it to end soon.

The tormentor continued to hit Greywulf with so many different types of spells from every school of magic, all excruciatingly painful yet weak enough to leave him alive and conscious. He paused briefly and strode over, leaning close to the half-elf writhing in the cage, his face inches from Greywulf's. "Do you even realize your full potential?"

Greywulf turned his head just enough to stare into his captor's face, glaring into those eyes of hate. He managed the best sneer he could and mouthed a few choice words, ones Gorion had disciplined him strictly for saying back in Candlekeep. The mage laughed for the first time since Greywulf had seen him, then said, "Ah, yes. The infamous wit you are known for. It will be interesting to see how long its meager defense will last you in here."

He drew back and raised his arms as though to begin the torment once more, but pounding footsteps echoed in the room, the wizard turning to see the source. A large humanoid figure rumbled into the room, heading straight for the man in front of Greywulf's cell. When it reached him, Greywulf could see it clearly enough to realize it was a flesh golem, though gashes and superficial injuries to its construct were evidence of a recent battle it had fought.

"Master." the golem rumbled.

"Yes, what is it?" the man said with irritation.

_Well, that throws out the idea that the two of them would go at it and accidentally free me in the process. But I suppose a guy can hope. _Greywulf closed his eyes, merely enjoying the brief respite from the torture, though listening to the conversation with great interest as well.

"More intruders have entered the complex."

The dark man swore and growled, "They act sooner than we had anticipated. No matter, they will only prove a slight delay."

The golem nodded and left the way he had come, while the man summoned a spell portal, transporting himself out of the room completely, leaving Greywulf in silence again. Greywulf took the time to examine his wounds, finding that while extremely painful, none had seemed to leave a lasting effect on him.

_But just what was that man talking about?_ Greywulf wondered. _Who are "they"? My friends perhaps, coming to rescue me?_

Just as he finished his thoughts, he heard the noise of rapidly approaching footsteps coming toward the room. Greywulf looked to see a group of men, all dressed in dark clothes and a very familiar style of cloak, swarming into the room with drive and purpose. They made no sound, but before they could get anywhere near to Greywulf, the sound of a spell trap being set off echoed through the chamber, magical energies convering to ignite a brownish skull in their midst, the powerful Horrid Wilting spell killing them all within moments.

Greywulf had just made a mental note to avoid that particular area of floor, when an explosion shook the room from somewhere outside. Greywulf was thrown against his cell, and was shaking his head to clear his thoughts when he heard a door open from somewhere in the room. Unable to get himself up again, Greywulf lay still, only hoping it wasn't his captor. A young girl with a look of frightened determination on her face ran over to his cell, yanking the door open with great effort. She began to shake Greywulf, saying, "Greywulf, c'mon, wake up! We have to get out of here!"

Greywulf squinted to look at his savior, to see the face of… "Imoen? That you?"

Imoen nodded and grabbed his wrist, helping him to his feet. "Of course it's me, ya bufflehead! C'mon, how could you not remember?"

"I don't really know… I just couldn't seem to remember your face very well. I don't know…" Greywulf said with a look of hesitation on his face, Imoen helping to support him as he stepped out of his prison.

"He messed with your head too, huh? All I can remember right now is that we were near Beregost and we got jumped by those assassins… then it's pretty much all a blank. I could hear you screaming, you sounded like you were in so much pain… are you okay?"

Greywulf nodded with a weak smile, "I'll be fine, Imoen. Just seeing you again is good enough for me. But I still want to know who did this… I owe them a great debt of pain."

"Later. Right now we have to get out of this awful place. There's a pain in my head right now that… that isn't natural. I don't think I could escape my cell again." Imoen said wincing.

"How did you escape anyway?"

"When the explosion hit, it jarred my cell enough so that it fell on its side. The door crashed open when it fell, and there were no guards around to stop me. I don't think my cell was as sturdy as yours."

Greywulf nodded and asked, "Do you know where any of the others are, or where our equipment is?"

Imoen thought for a second and said, "I don't know anything about our stuff, I would imagine they probably sold the best of it. As far as our group, I saw Minsc and Jaheira in two cells in the back of the room. I don't know where Khalid and Dynaheir are though."

Greywulf nodded and stepped out of the cell, looking toward the area where he had heard noises before. Sure enough, he could vaguely make out the forms of Minsc and Jaheira in separate cells at the back of the room, though he could not tell what condition they were in.

Imoen and Greywulf hurried to Minsc's cell and when Minsc saw them, a great smile blossomed on his face.

"Ah, it is my friends, come to rescue me! ARRGHHH! These bars will not hold my wrath! Minsc will be free! Butts will be liberally kicked in good measure!"

"Minsc, how are you holding up? Do you remember what happened?" asked Greywulf as he searched for a door to the cell.

"Our travels are the stuff of legend! Our victories the subject of song! Yet I do not know who has done this, but I will avenge most viciously the wrongs… the wrongs they have… Dynaheir! I will cave their skulls for what they have done!"

"Do you know where Dynaheir is? We need to rescue her too." said Imoen as Greywulf continued searching.

"Dynaheir? Dynaheir is… is in a cage created by my own failure," Minsc suddenly broke down to his knees inside his cell, slamming both fists in anger. "Dynaheir is dead! They killed her! They killed her as I watched, you see, and I could not do anything to protect her! I have failed my dajemma!"

"Minsc, that is horrible!" said Imoen, trying to comfort the big man. "I am so sorry for you."

"Lullaby and goodnight, Minsc will take his revenge upon these evil men!" Minsc cried, standing again as a tear came from his eye. "Minsc will not cry for those lost in righteous battle! Okay, maybe a little, but Minsc will staunch the flow of tears with the vengeance taken upon Dynaheir's murderers!"

Greywulf turned to Imoen and said to her, "I can't find anything! No door, no window, no nothing to let Minsc in or out!"

Minsc heard Greywulf's words and exclaimed proudly, "You see, they feared my wrath and warrior abilities so much that they welded the bars shut! Minsc is indeed a force to be feared!"

Imoen and Greywulf looked at each other in astonishment, only for Greywulf to turn to Minsc and ask, "Well, how can we get you out then?"

Minsc shrugged and said, "I don't know. But you will not quit trying, of course. A hero never gives, up despite the odds!"

Greywulf sighed in desperation and said, "But the hero also needs-" He was interrupted by a tap on the shoulder from Imoen, and as she whispered something to him, Greywulf smiled and nodded at her.

"What are you whispering about?" asked Minsc with a slight frown. "Something to get me free, I presume."

"Actually, just the opposite, Minsc." said Greywulf. "We've decided that it's too much trouble to get you out, so we're going to leave you here. Sorry."

"What!" Minsc yelled in surprise. "You… You that I called friend, you are filth! You are no better than those who killed Dynaheir! If you do this, I will add your name to the ass kicking list! I would do so reluctantly, but if you continue in this manner I will be forced to! Make your decision now."

Greywulf shrugged and turned, saying, "Sorry. See you later. Hey, maybe you can distract the guards from our escape."

With a fury in his eyes, Minsc roared at Greywulf while pulling at the cage, saying, "I will free myself, and then come after you! I will see to it that you do not live long enough to abandon any more friends! I will..."

As Minsc continued to scream and pull, the bars finally began to creak and sag, bending under the furious assault of Minsc. The bolts and welded joints holding them together began popping out, letting the bars split and break apart until they finally broke open completely, leaving the infuriated ranger a space just big enough to climb out of.

"Hah! The bars, they bend and twist with my berserker strength! Minsc is free!" he then turned toward Greywulf with a look of intense hatred. "Now you will, now you…will.."

Minsc suddenly stopped and scratched his bald head, seeing Greywulf's and Imoen's overjoyed smiles. Gradually, Minsc began to smile and laughed, saying, "Oh. Ohhh. Oh-ho! I understand now! You are a very clever one! You said what you did just to get me mad! Mad enough to break free! I swear, you are as smart as Boo sometimes! Isn't that right, Boo?"

Greywulf watched as Boo popped out from seemingly nowhere, climbing into Minsc's hand as he squeaked.

"Yes, well, I see you still have Boo with you." Greywulf stammered. "Dare I ask how you have kept him hidden from our captors?"

Minsc looked at Boo and said, "Don't ask questions better left to old sages. There is ever so much of Minsc to search, and Boo is so quick and nimble, there is no chance of ever separating the companions that are Minsc and Boo."

Greywulf recoiled slightly, while Imoen wrinkled her nose slightly, saying, "Ewww. I really don't want to think about that too much."

"We will have our vengeance for Dynaheir, Minsc. We shall make our enemies answer for our fallen." Greywulf said, looking Minsc in the eyes solidly.

"Answer they will, and my sword will be the question! We shall have fistfuls of sweet, sweet justice, and our enemies will be stains beneath our feet! So now that we are reunited, shall we continue our escape?" Minsc asked, slapping Greywulf's back, nearly bowling the half-elf over. "There are still friends to avenge, and villains that need smacking about the face and neck. Beware villains! I shall force justice down your evil, evil throats!"

Greywulf shook his head and smiled, saying, "Right away, Minsc! Where ever the boots of evil dare tread on our clean floor of righteousness, we shall wipe the floor with their butts before throwing them out the window with our swords of purity and cleanliness!"

Minsc stared for a second, smiled and then said, "I have lost myself in your words, but Boo thinks you're just ducky. Onward! Our fury shall be such that the bards who hear of it will run their quills dry! Yes, ink will be scarce wherever we go!"

The three hurried over to the next cell, to find Jaheira standing inside, a smile of relief on her face as she saw them.

"Jaheira…" Greywulf sighed, relieved to see her unharmed. "Thank Helm you're safe."

She shook her head and said, "Quickly, we must get out of here. Whoever did this is sure to return soon, and I have no desire to be here when that happens. I swear," she laughed, "Traveling with you is never dull."

"Thanks, I think." Greywulf smiled as he pulled at her cage door. Frowning, he pulled once again, only to find that the door would not open.

"No good," Greywulf said to Jaheira. "The cage is magically sealed. We'll have to find a key somewhere."

"Let me try." said Minsc as he walked over to grasp the bars. "My berserker strength will free you, Jaheira! RAAGH-"

"Wait!" Greywulf shouted, putting one hand on Minsc's broad shoulder. "We got lucky that you calmed down so quick after the first one... you're already winded now. We can't risk you losing control while we're here."

"Then I presume you have a better plan?" Jaheira cocked one eyebrow.

"Possibly." Greywulf exhaled, raising one hand to point at the bars. "Minsc, I'm going to heat up the bars, hopefully enough that you can pull them apart without resorting to a berserker rage. As soon as I finish, go for it. Jaheira... you might want to stand back."

Greywulf muttered the words to the spell, an a jet of flame engulfed the cage front, the iron slowly beginning to glow red with the intense heat poured on by the sorcerer. Beads of sweat began dripping from his face as he struggled to maintain the spell, and it was only a half-minute before he ceased, breathing heavily.

"My magic... still weak from the tortures. That's all I can do."

Minsc nodded and inhaled deeply, preparing himself... then grabbed the bars. The sound of the scalding hot metal searing his hands sizzled painfully in their ears, Minsc's face contorting in anger and pain as he exerted all his strength, stretching the newly pliable metal... until the bars twisted open, four of the cell rows breaking, enough for Jaheira's lithe body to slip through.

Greywulf helped her climb out of the twisted metal, Minsc's fists gripped at his side, a look of supressed pain on his face from the burning metal he had forced open. "Are you okay, Minsc?" Imoen asked nervously.

"I... will be fine." he grunted, as Imoen pulled a few shreds of cloth from her sleeves, wrapping his hands in them. "But thank you."

"And what of you, Jaheira?" Greywulf said as she straightened up. "Are you well enough to travel? Have you any idea where Khalid might be?"

Jaheira shook her head with sorrow, saying, "I do not know, after we were all brought here, we were separated and you are the only people I have seen here so far besides our captors. I hope he is all right... I have been spared any physical mistreatment, though from the state of my head, I fear I have been drugged. However, you look to have been treated most unfavorably, and I do not like the thought of him enduring the same. We should find some weaponry and armor soon. Must I tell you everything to do?"

Greywulf sighed, half-relieved to hear her spirit still as strong as ever. "Nothing big, but those dead assassins over there have some leather armor you and Minsc could wear. There's also some daggers for Imoen and me, and swords for Minsc. I haven't seen any staffs or spears-"

Jaheira frowned and yanked one of the long bars Minsc had bent over from it's position, the iron already almost detatched. It was about five feet long, with a jagged, torn metal end. She looked it over once and nodded. "This will do."

They quickly moved over to the fallen assassins and donned the armor and equipped the weapons they needed, Jaheira glancing at Greywulf as she slipped the armor on, the mage tucking a dagger into his belt. "How many spells do you have at the ready? I do not wish to rest in this place, but if you have none prepared we will be forced to."

"Don't worry. It wasn't the most comfortable position, but I'm pretty sure that I got all the rest I needed in that cell. I just want to find the guy who did all this." he said, trying not to tremble as the disturbing dreams he had witnessed played through his head again.

"Are you certain?" Jaheira asked with a frown, noticing his contrary body language. "You do not look well…"

"I'll be fine." Greywulf cut her off, "I just… I had some dreams that, uh… weren't exactly pleasant. I'll feel better when we take this guy down."

Jaheira studied him for a moment longer as though debating whether to press the issue, but eventually nodded, "I agree, but now is not the time for this revenge... it must be on our own terms. If he was able to capture us this easily, he must be a most powerful adversary… not one to trifle with. Live today, fight tomorrow. I would be content with merely seeing the sun again and finding Khalid. We must also find Dynaheir; I am sure Minsc has reminded you."

Minsc dropped his head silently with a pained look and turned away as Greywulf put his hand on Jaheira's shoulder, shaking his head. No words were necessary; Jaheira's eyes opened wide in shock as she realized their companion was dead. She nodded silently as she acknowledged the news, walking over to Minsc and giving him an uncommon embrace as tears fell from the ranger's eyes once more, the memory of his dead charge fresh in his thoughts. Their family of six had become five; the first casualty of so many in the war to come.


	5. Part 1: Growing Madness

_Author's Note: Once more, special thanks for the reviews; really do appreciate them and welcome any others who want to comment on this fic. I know there's always room for improvement. In case anyone was wondering, this chapter won't be quite so dark as the last one, things do get a bit lighter. Now I know everyone hates the Irenicus dungeon, but hopefully this take might be a bit more interesting than usual..._

"Looks like these guys were taken down by spell traps... powerful ones. From the sound of it, more fighting is going on above us." Imoen muttered nervously as she knelt over another group of corpses lying in the halls of the dungeon, examining their wounds.

"You're probably right," muttered Greywulf. "Be checking for traps while we go."

Imoen nodded as the group made their way further into the dungeon, passing the rusted cells and chains of the prison block they had so recently freed themselves from. Suddenly, a noise like barking echoed down the corridor, revealing a group of around ten kobolds, all armed and poised to attack the escapees.

Greywulf jumped back just in time to avoid a hasty sword attack, letting Minsc and Jaheira move to the front in his place. The two warriors rushed in tandem, engaging the creatures quickly and efficiently while Imoen and Greywulf began their spell craft, preferring mass attack over finesse as large groups of magic missiles exploded into the cluster of monsters, killing a few and wounding the rest. Minsc and Jaheira dispatched the wounded with relative ease, clearing a path to the next opening.

"What is this place?" Jaheira asked as she saw the oddly formed room.

Crystals protruded from the floors and walls, while pools of water were situated in different parts of the room. An eerie orange glow came from the crystals, as it did from the rock walls. A particularly large cluster of crystals sat in the middle of the room, seemingly the focus of all the energy present.

"I sense your presence, mortals... you cannot hide from my sight." a deep booming voice proclaimed.

The five wary adventurers whirled about, a fog of smoke seeming to rise from the ground as they did, unable to discern the location of the speaker. It rose until the whole room was clouded... then in an instant, the smoke vanished, revealing a large djinni in the midst of the crystals, his arms folded as he looked down upon them.

"Who are you?" asked Greywulf, his dagger clutched tightly in his right hand.

"I am Aqatuah, keeper of the jails. You... you are the prisoners my master brought here so recently. Hah! I hadst wondered if the stumblings of those intruders might free thee. It would seem I was correct."

"Do you intend to try and capture us once again?" Greywulf questioned, his heart thudding. His magics were still weak, and he was sure neither Minsc or Jaheira were at full strength. Imoen's mostly unused spells would give them more to work with in a fight, but how many spells she still had memorized were questionable after all that had happened. "You would do well not to hinder us…"

"Hmm... would I?" Aqatuah chuckled, though his expression quickly turned serious. "Rather, why should I not? Truly, you are escapees of my master's prison, and I am thine keeper. To let thee run free wouldst be a severe dereliction of my duties... and I doubt you have the power to resist me as you are."

"You would be surprised." Jaheira growled.

"Very bold, for one such as thee!" the djinni laughed. "And thus I am hesitant to capture you once more. I actually rather enjoyed watching the blunderings you called adventures around Baldur's Gate, foolhardy though they were. Your captor has kept my spirit imprisoned here as much as you, though I do not mind… it is better than a lonely existence of wandering the Planes. So... how shouldst I decide thine fate, hmm? A riddle, perhaps? A fight, maybe? What would you prefer?"

"If it is a battle we fight, Minsc will meet it head on!" the ranger roared, raising the long sword he wielded high.

"Very well." Aqatuah nooded. "A battle it shall be... I hope thine powers are prepared, sorcerer..."

With a flash of light and a sizzle of magic the djinni vanished; in it's place stood a sight of brute force combined with magical prowess. The recently summoned ogre mage snarled in its own grotesque tongue at the five standing before him, immediately beginning its incantations of magic. Minsc rushed forward, a quick downswing not quite fast enough to stop the ignited spell from the ogre. The Blindness spell touched both warriors who had come forward, leaving Jaheira and Misnc stumbling as they tried to regain their sight, Greywulf and Imoen reluctant to move up in melee combat against such a strong opponent. Greywulf reached inside for his own magic and summoned a pair of war dogs to their aide, the animals charging the ogre to distract him from finishing off the weakened Minsc and Jaheira.

Even as the ogre swatted one of the dogs as it bit his arm, Imoen's spell craft finished; a dispel magic overcoming the physical disability placed upon their allies. As Jaheira's vision cleared, she immediately swung the makeshift spear she held, the long iron shaft cracking loudly as it impacted against the ogre's side. It howled with the impact, but his massive strength was enough to throw off the second of the attack dogs, Jaheira narrowly avoiding getting hit by the airborne beast. Minsc took advantage of his distraction and attacked swiftly from the other side, his anger leaving no room for hesitation or mercy. The long sword sang and in the briefest of seconds, one of the ogre mage's arms was gone.

Another pounding of magic missiles from Imoen and an flame arrow spell from Greywulf, and the ogre mage fell to the cold floor. It slowly faded from sight as Aqatuah took its place, once more blazing into existence, the humanoid hovering above them with a wry smile on his face. "Very good, yes indeed. As I promised, I shall let you pass... though I warn you, my master has many other servants in this dungeon. Dwarves, constructs... even djinn like myself. Many will not find you as... amusing as I have, nor be as sporting. You will need better equipment than what you possess now if you are to survive the trek to the surface world once more."

Aqatuah waved his arms and spoke a few words of power, watching in satisfaction as the leather armor Minsc and Jaheira wore glowed bright yellow, slowly growing and morphing into chain mail around their bodies. A second string of words illuminated their weapons, creating a bow and a small quiver for Imoen, much more to her liking than the dagger she had in her belt. Jaheira's iron shaft quickly shimmered into a standard spear, while Greywulf's dagger slipped from his grasp and grew into a quarterstaff in no time at all.

"I do not think your master would approve... but thank you." Greywulf said appreciatively, running one hand up and down the length of the staff as though to assure himself it was not about to disappear.

"His opinions mean fairly little to me... I feel his hold on this particular enclave is loosening as we speak." Aqatuah said with a tight smile. "Before you depart, I have but one last thing to grant you... an item I was given that contains some of thine essence, I feel."

"My essence?" Greywulf asked in surprise.

"Yes... or a reasonable similarity. I can give this to thee... but I require one more test from you should you be willing to participate."

"Another battle, spirit?" he frowned.

"No... thine prowess in combat is proven to me." Aqatuah shook his head. "I merely wish to ask you a question. Tip the scales once for me and I shall tip them in return. I will give you what is yours, as well as a bit of advice on leaving this place."

"Then ask, if it will help quicken our escape from this wretched dungeon." he nodded firmly.

"The question I pose is a hypothetical one." said Aqatuah with a curious eye. "You and your sibling are both trapped in separate glass jars, across from each other. There is but one thing in each jar, a panel with a button on it. You and your sibling can see one another, but cannot communicate. The mage responsible appears and speaks. He says that if you press your button, you will die but your sibling will be set free. If your sibling pushes the button, you will be set free but your sibling will die. If you both push your buttons, you both will die. The mage gives you one hour to think it over, and if by that time neither of you have pushed a button, you both will die. So tell me, what will you do?"

Minsc interrupted, "This is a ridiculous question! Pushing buttons is no way to free oneself! I would take my trusty sword, smash the button, break the glass that imprisoned me, then rain beatings on the mage who would dare to pull such a trick on me!"

Aqatuah chuckled and said, "Of that I have no doubt, Minsc. But this question is for Greywulf alone, and requires an answer of thought, not your impatience."

Greywulf thought for a seemingly everlasting couple of minutes, and finally said, "I would press the button."

Aqatuah cocked his head to one side with a smile and said, "Interesting. Thou hast fulfilled my request, and I am satisfied. Here, then, is your prize."

He produced a large sword from seemingly nowhere, the design on the hilt and blade unmistakable to any of them there. It was the Sword of Chaos, the blade of Sarevok once and since then wielded by Minsc. Greywulf took hold of the heavy weapon and handed it to Minsc, the ranger's eyes lighting up as he dropped the long sword he carried with a clatter, testing the weight of the magical blade.

"Advice I owe you as well, yes? There is a room of the forgotten, just before the guardian chamber... inside is a creature known as Rielev. Seek him out; he may be able to provide answers to the puzzles of this dungeon. Hurry now... my master is powerful, and this distraction will not keep his attention forever."

Aqatuah disappeared for the last time, leaving the opening to the next room free and clear. "Let's go. We've been lucky so far... no more relying on Tymora to get us out of here." Greywulf said with a new sense of determination. As the group continued on their path, Jaheira turned to Greywulf and said, "That was an... interesting choice you made."

"Why do you say that?" asked Greywulf with a frown.

"I have known you for a while… but there is still much about you that is a mystery to me, even more, now that you know of your heritage. Your answer tells me more of you that... that I am not sure of."

"If there is something about me you wish to know, then all you have to do is ask." said Greywulf with one eyebrow raised as he looked at his female companion.

"I know this and I am sure you would tell me the truth, but some things must be observed and found out, not told by the mouth."

"What sort of things?" queried Greywulf.

"Never mind. We will speak more of this later. For now, we must still find Khalid and escape."

Greywulf nodded and kept moving, slightly puzzled by Jaheira's sudden questions. As they walked, Greywulf watched her face, looking for anything that might give a hint to her sudden actions and questions. But as they walked, nothing was forthcoming, so Greywulf gave his full attention to the halls they walked.

Finally, after battling a few more guards, mostly different types of memphits, they reached a room full of glass jars full of liquid, as well as other types of lab equipment.

"I've seen this place before." Imoen said hesitantly, backing up as she said it. "There are things in those jars, things that were people once. The... the forgotten ones."

Greywulf walked up to a jar, and as he peered inside, he did indeed see a deformed creature, something so mangled and twisted, it was impossible to believe it still lived. "You believe this is what Aqatuah spoke of?"

"I know it..." Imoen whispered. "It's what... he... called them. Our captor."

"When did you see this?" asked Jaheira to the slightly quivering Imoen.

"I don't know. I just…have." she said, a look of horror on her face. "Let's get out of here, Greywulf. There's just too much death around us."

"As soon as we finish searching, Imoen." he said as he looked through the room, passing so many tubes and bottles with bubbling fluids pouring through them and out of them.

At the far end of the room was a larger bottle, almost as tall as the ceiling of the room itself. It was fogged over and the insides were not visible, though many different devices of strange technology and alien design were connected to the sides and base of the tube. Jaheira approached cautiously, reaching one hand over toward the glass, slowly rubbing some of the condensation and fog away so that they could see what lay within...

A shriek of madness and pain reverberated from within the tube as a mangled, disfigured and deformed being slammed agaisnt the side of the glass, one bulging eye right up next to the wall, staring at those on the other side. Imoen could not supress a cry of fear as she leapt back, even Jaheira stumbled back quickly, immediately raising her spear at the creature within.

"Who... who are you?" a creaky, raspy voice wafted out to them, the insane inflections and tones that were present in the scream a second ago barely evident in the voice as well. Whatever this thing was... it was not sound, that much was certain. "More servants of the master?"

"Are you Rielev?" Greywulf asked hesitantly, not quite sure how he should answer the last question.

"Rielev... that was me...my name!" it screeched suddenly, twisting and writhing within the tank. "How? How do you know of me, speak!"

"Easy, easy... Greywulf said quietly, holding his breath in fearful anticipation as the thrashings of the being within slowly stopped. "We are not here to harm you... we just wish to talk. To find out... what this place is. What happened to you?"

"Who am I?" Rielev croaked, his bulbous eye still darting back and forth between them. "You do not know me? You... you cannot be friends of the master... he would not accept others, not after treating me like this..."

"Your master left you to rot like this!" Jaheira asked in shock. "What monster is he to inflict such torture upon another?"

"Monster? No, no... you do not understand!" Rielev cackled madly, spinning in the tube. "He did this to me...kept me like this so that he could have time; time to cure me and restore my form! He works even now for my return!"

"If he was your friend then he has forgotten you." Greywulf shook his head, kneeling beside the glass. "He has abandoned you in this place... his designs are hardly beneficial to those around him."

"Lies! Lies and..."

"He called you forgotten." Imoen said quietly, a look of sadness crossing her features.

"F-forgotten..." Rielev's madness seemed to fade with the word, diminishing until his sporadic bursts of laughter changed to racking sobs of anguish. "Forgotten...it is true! True! He has left me here for eternity, forever dead yet unable to die!"

The wails and convulsions of the creature were so violent that Greywulf feared the glass would shatter and so he backed away, but almost as soon as they had started he stopped, slowly rotating until his eye could see them once more. "What... what do you want from me! Why are you here; do you wish to torment me further! Leave me to my death!"

"Death... is that what you seek?" Greywulf questioned cautiously. "Release from this living imprisonment?"

"Release... yes, release!" Rielev shouted. "I do not wish... I do not wish to live like this any longer; end it, please..."

"We will do this for you... but we were told you could help us. Can you tell us anything about how we might escape this place?"

Rielev's mind seemed clearer, at least for the moment, and he was quiet for a second before responding with what sounded like great effort, "Three... three places hold the keys to leaving this place. The dwarves... the smiths of the master; they possess the first of the portal keys. The second... the tree folk have the second. And the third..."

Rielev quieted suddenly, the only sound left the bubbles in the tube continually rising to the top. It was as though the creature had gone catatonic, but Greywulf lowered himelf to to the eye level of Rielev once more, trying desperately for him to finish it. "Rielev... where's the third?"

"Third... room of the Mistress." Rielev murmured, his voice barely above a whisper. "I... everything you wanted. Release... me..."

Greywulf stood, glancing over at the power crystals that glowed dimly as they supported his miserable existence. Grasping hold of them as Rielev followed him with a half-open gaze, Greywulf whispered gently, "Sleep well, Rielev... have peace at last."

The moment the crystals left their sockets, Rielev shuddered once, then slowly sank to the bottom of the tube, the bubbles slowing to a stop as his eye closed one more time. Greywulf sighed, tucked the power crystals away just in case, then motioned for them to leave, the place reeking of death and torments influicted by this 'master'.

"It…it is good that he died." Imoen mumbled to herself, glancing back at the tube Rielev's body lay in. She shook her head as though in horror at what she had said and cried, "Oh, why would I say that death is good? This place, I... it's affecting me, there's just too much… death here."

"Death is not always a thing to be feared, child." said Jaheira as she attempted to calm Imoen.

"Jaheira's right. I would not want to live in such a fashion; I would be grateful for a release, as Rielev was." added Greywulf.

"Minsc agrees." said Minsc thoughtfully, stroking his chin. "I would hate living in a bottle. It would be so cramped inside, there would be no room for Boo to run around or for me to run with him. I suppose it would have to depend upon the type of bottle I was trapped in, but I think overall the results would be the same."

Imoen managed a brief smile, the fear of the situation lessened slightly by Minsc's humorous statements, though as she glanced back one more time, she frowned, memories slowly trickling back to her. "I... I think I remember where I've seen these things before. When we were imprisoned, our captor brought me here several times, before he… experimented." Imoen felt a small but visible scar down her eyelid.

"What did he say when he brought you here?" asked Jaheira grimly.

"He said... he said that once he had finished us, that once he had drained us of what he called our 'potential', that we would become creatures like these. Old, lost, and forgotten."

Imoen put her head in her hands, and suddenly came up with a look of both determination and pleading, saying to Greywulf, "I don't care what this guy wants with us, or what power he thinks he can tap within us, we can't look back... we've got to stay away from him. We can't... can't give in to anythig he wants."

Greywulf nodded grimly, and said, "Don't worry, our 'host' has proven his intent already. I have no desire to gain anything from this man. The next time we meet, he'll find us to be slightly less cooperative."

"That makes me feel better. Thank you." said Imoen with a faint smile.

The group then continued on their path through the halls of the dungeon though while they traveled, Greywulf looked at Imoen worried at the heaviness that seemed to dog her steps. _This place has taken a toll on everybody, but Imoen... there's something more that's happened to her. Something's missing from her. The pep, energy, and cheerfulness we've come to expect is… diminished somehow. She's gotten a lot darker, moodier, more like, well, me I guess. Whoever this guy he is, he's changed her. When I find him, I'll make him pay for the things he's done here; not only for Dynaheir's murder, but the pain he's inflicted upon us. I swear it._

X X X X X X X X

Minsc let out a battle cry, slashing down with all his might at the tentacle attempting to wrap itself around his waist. The magic of the blade was only partially effective, but it was enough to get the beast's grip to release. The otyugh screeched as spittle flew from it's enormous maw, driving forward in an attempt to knock the ranger away with its massive bulk. Imoen was on the staircase that had led down into the pit where the other three fought the otyugh now, still shooting arrows in a vain attempt to harm the creature; at least a dozen of the arrows were sticking out of the hide, though very little diminishment of its ability was apparent. Greywulf was wrapped up in one of the tentacles that swung about the room, trying to use his quarterstaff for leverage to free himself while the two fighters tried to keep its attention, at least long enough for the sorcerer to escape.

Jaheira dodged one tentacle, then another... slipping right up beside the beast, she jammed her spear into the skin of the beast right next to the tentacle that held Greywulf captive. The grip on the sorcerer loosened just enough for him to slip out, shouting words to his spellcraft even as he dropped to the ground. Echoes of different spell incantations came from Imoen as well, and in quick succession, paralyzation magic and acid arrows slammed into the otyugh. The sound of the acid eating into the skin filled the chamber while its movements slowed, Imoen's magic overcoming it quickly...

Minsc did not waste the opportunity but rushed straight before the beast and thrust his sword into it's chest, finally felling the otyugh as it slammed to the ground with a thud.

"This must be the guardian that we heard about." Greywulf said, kneeling by the dead beast, pulling out arrows from its back to give back any usable ones to Imoen, descending the stairway quickly.

"Did you come up with that conclusion on your own, or did someone write it down and stick it on your forehead?" Jaheira said as she heaved from the exertion, a sarcastic tone to her voice.

Greywulf turned towards his companion, surprised by her tone. "Jaheira, what's wrong? Is there something you need to say to me? Because if there is, I'm willing to listen."

Jaheira's head dropped as she responded, "I…I'm sorry, Greywulf. That was unneeded. I guess… I'm just worried about Khalid. We haven't found him yet, and after the loss of Dynaheir, I'm just feeling a little more on edge right now."

Greywulf nodded and said, "I know what you mean. It does seem like we're a bit more vulnerable at the moment."

Jaheira smiled slightly, and said, "You understand exactly how I feel. Thank you for putting up with my remarks."

"We all need to get certain things off our chest now and then." Greywulf said with a smile, yet still wondering about Jaheira's hostility of late towards him.

"Excuse me," Imoen raised her hand, "But that thing is really starting to smell, and we still need to escape."

"Minsc agrees." said the ranger, holding Boo in one of his hands, the hamster sniffing the air with a slight look of disgust on its small rodent face. "Boo can smell this creature much better than we can, and he says that if we do not leave soon, he will be tossing his proverbial cookies, as it were."

"Well," Greywulf said, trying to hold back a smile while taking one final glance at his druid friend, "If that's the case, we should be off."

"Which way?" asked Imoen, pointing at the three doors in front of them.

"We'll take them one at a time." Greywulf said, opening the door of the far left.

The group then traveled down the path the door led them through, traversing the maze of corridors, looking for anything that would signify a way out.

Finally, the group reached a large room, one filled with bookshelves, each one filled with books to the point of overflowing. The group cautiously entered, wary of any traps, Imoen leading the group.

"See anything?" asked Greywulf, Imoen scanning the room for traps.

Before she could answer, a familiar bark came from the shadows, leading the group to look just in time to see another group of kobolds jump out, a smaller group of memphits following behind them.

"Can't these guys just leave us alone?" Imoen shouted, an arrow flying from her bow, already in action. Her friends remained grimly silent, all three whipping into action. Minsc swung his sword, beheading a kobold, while Jaheira's spear struck out to impale a memphit on its tip. Meanwhile, Greywulf found himself faced with three kobolds attacking him. Greywulf dodged to the left of one as it slashed at him, giving him time to bring his staff down upon its head, splitting the kobold's skull. The second one also took a swing at the man, but his blade was too slow. However, the third sword found it's mark, leaving a painful wound in Greywulf's side, only made worse by the rustiness and dirt on the blade. Bending over in pain, Greywulf barely managed to parry another slash, but not finding the speed to mount a counterattack.

"A little help here." Greywulf spat, trying to dodge the combined attacks from both kobolds. In response, one of Imoen's arrows shot forward, spinning the kobold that it hit around, the arrow buried into its chest. Seizing the opportunity, Greywulf made a quick incantation, smiting the remaining kobold with a fiery blast conjured from the air.

After the last few enemies had been dispatched, the group all sat down in a corner, taking time to rest and recover from their wounds.

"Does it feel any better?" Jaheira asked Greywulf after she had treated the wound with some druidic healing spells.

"Not quite at one hundred percent, but it's much better than before. You're a very talented healer, Jaheira."

Jaheira smiled slightly, but quickly brought a serious look back to her face.

"What is our course of action to be? Your repetoire of spells must surely be depleted, as well as Imoen's. We have been going without real rest for a long while now; while I hate to stay in this situation any longer than necessary, we will need some measure of rest if we are to succeed into escaping this place."

Greywulf took a deep breath and sighed, looking at his companions and said, "What you say is true, Jaheira. I do need the rest, and I imagine everyone else does. But can we risk such a long period of downtime? I don't know if we can defeat our captor if he confronts us again, even if we're rested up. The spells he conjured… I've never seen such power. Not even Gorion could do such things…"

"But then again," Imoen voiced, "We definitely won't stand a chance without any rest. Personally, I'd rather not sleep here, but it's up to you, Greywulf."

"All right, all right." Greywulf said. "This room is defensible enough to make a stand if necessary; if we bolt the door and set up something of a barricade, we can all get some rest without anyone having to stand guard. Let's just hope whatever has occupied our captor's attention so far will continue to be a problem for him."


	6. Part 1: A Death In The Family

_Author's Note: I know, I know, we all still hate this dungeon with a terrible vengeance. Don't worry, I think this is the last full chapter of trudging through Chaetau Irenicus... it'll all be over soon, just bear with me a bit longer... there are some important things that still have to happen._

The group slumbered lightly in the dark of the chamber, curled up in as comfortable positions as they could manage. The door was blocked off fairly well, preventing anyone from entering without them immediately knowing and responding with a quick fireball or arrow. Still, not everyone was asleep as Greywulf had intended; Jaheira sat in a corner, wide awake, her spear grasped in one hand as she kept a sharp eye out for any danger. So far their rest had been uninterrupted, but Jaheira was not one to take chances, and as such she was awake a good two hours before the others and had been keeping watch since she awoke. As she maintained her guard, she looked at her sleeping comrades and thought of the times and past experiences they had shared.

While having only known the group for a little more than a year, she already thought of them as family, a trust Jaheira rarely gave to anyone. Hearing of Dynaheir's death had affected her deeply, even if she did not show it as openly as some. It was not her nature... her anger and pain was always kept bottled up, stored inside to be released over time and in battle... though the time she needed to heal from some of those hurts and wounds might never come, truth be told. Opening up was not an easy thing for the druid... and the worry she felt for Khalid's safety was snapping her exterior calm more and more frequently. Even though she knew her friends needed rest, and she had insisted they got it... they were empty, trite phrases that she had barely heard herself saying.

Her entire body shivered once as she sat there; it was all she could do not to leap to her feet and rush through the halls in search of her beloved husband. A small tear left Jaheira's eye, but she quickly wiped it away angrily and continued her vigil, assuring their safety. Even as she watched, Imoen's eye fluttered slightly, opening just enough to see Jaheira at her post. _Jaheira's watching over us even when we're all supposed to be sleeping, _Imoen thought._ I swear, that woman never rests. She's probably just stressed about Khalid, but I hope we find him soon for her sake. I hate to think of what will happen to her if we don't find him, or worse, if he ends up like poor Dynaheir._

Soon after the final hour had passed, Jaheira stood up and walked over to her slumbering friends, preparing to wake them. She walked over to Greywulf, though something in his face kept her from waking him immediately, pausing for a second before tapping him. Looking at the sleeping leader, she gazed upon the lines of weariness on his face. _Though he has led us all well so far,_ _he is still but a youth. He should never have had to take this burden of leadership upon himself, at least not until he was older, more ready to do what was required of him. Gorion was wise in appointing a guardian over him, wiser still in appointing two. I just hope that Khalid and I can perform our duties, and perhaps someday, Greywulf will have a normal life. He deserves as much._ As these thoughts entered Jaheira's mind, the thought of Khalid once again brought an overwhelming feeling of dread.

_What if we can't find him? What happens if I never see Khalid again? Or worse, what if he is…is…no. I cannot allow myself to think such things. I will find Khalid, and when I do, I will take my vengeance upon the one who has done this. _Jaheira shook her head in anger, then proceeded to shake Greywulf's shoulder, awakening the young man instantly.

"Jaheira, I see you've awakened already. Dare I ask how long you have been up?" Greywulf asked with a slight smile to his tired face.

"Why do you ask?" Jaheira queried as she stood to her full height.

Greywulf's face took on a slightly confused grin as he said, "No reason. Trying to get you to smile. In my opinion, you could smile a little more often."

Jaheira brought an obviously forced smile to her face, and said somewhat curtly, "Everything's fine, though I shall smile when it is warranted. We should get going if we are going to escape this place and find Khalid."

Greywulf nodded, saying, " Point taken. I'll get ready to move, and then see if there isn't any food around this accursed place."

As Jaheira turned back to the other two sleepers, Greywulf shot another glance at his druid friend, still confused about her behavior. _I understand her worrying about Khalid's safety, especially after Dynaheir's death, but she knows we're here for her to depend on, to draw comfort from if necessary. She seems to be pushing us away, and that will only bring her pain in the end. _

After all of the adventurers had awakened and prepared for travel and battle, the group headed back towards the triple passage they had entered before, stopping for a moment in a side room along the passage they were in already. It was small kitchen, where they were able to gain some small amount of nourishment while they traveled.

"Hmm." Minsc grunted, small crumbs of a rather old piece of bread falling from his mouth as he ate, feeding Boo at the same time. "This food is adequate, but Boo would prefer something a little less… well, moldy. But I think that I can survive on such food until we escape. Of course I would not want to eat this forever. After all, bread can become very boring if not mixed with other things, like meat, fruit, and occasionally hamster food."

As the rest of the group turned to look at Minsc, Minsc suddenly laughed and hurriedly explained, "No, no. I meant the meat and fruit for me, and the hamster food for Boo. After all, a banana is almost as big as Boo. I do not know if he could eat such a large meal, despite his large appetite."

While everyone else merely shook their head, Greywulf put the rest of the nearby food into a small bag nearby, and strapped it to his back.

"We'd better head out. We can eat while we go, and we've already stayed too long here. The longer we delay, the more chance our captor will return."

Their path was a quick one, back at the three-way crossroads within a half-hour. The middle path was mind-numbingly similar in design and look to the first path, and within a few hundred feet they could see a room upcoming. Before any of them could keep moving, Jaheira stopped and brought her spear to the ready, frowning as her sharp eyes peered down toward the open portal ahead.

"What is it?" asked Imoen nervously, fingering her bow as she drew an arrow to the string.

"In the passage up ahead." Jaheira whispered, a hardness to her voice. "Kobolds. And memphits. I can smell them."

Greywulf nodded imperceptibly, and began a spell. When he finished, a small, floating, glowing eye appeared in midair next to Greywulf, who said, "This wizard eye spell should give us a better idea of how many are in there."

With that, the eye shot past the group and down the hall, entering the library, and flitting around silently.

"Would not the smelly dogmen notice the disembodied eyeball?" Minsc whispered to Imoen.

"No, silly." Imoen whispered back. "The kobolds won't see it because it's invisible to anyone except the ones who saw it being summoned."

Minsc nodded, and turned to look at Greywulf, who was now visibly struggling to maintain the spell, and finally collapsed from the exertion.

"What did you see?" asked Jaheira as she helped Greywulf to his feet.

Greywulf took a deep breath, and then said, "There's a lot of them. Maybe thirty kobolds, and about twenty memphits. They've been tracking us... it's an ambush."

"Can we defeat them?" asked Imoen, a troubled look on her face.

"Of course we can defeat them!" boomed Minsc as he drew his sword with both hands. "The enemies of justice will be slain by the righteous fury of Minsc and Boo! None shall stand when the force of butt-kicking is unleashed!"

"That could work, Minsc," Greywulf said as he grabbed Minsc and nudged him off to one side, "But I think this might call for a little strategy. Jaheira, have you all of your druidic spells at the ready?"

"Yes, why?" asked the female druid.

"When I finish casting my spell, cast your Insect Swarm spell down there."

Jaheira nodded as Greywulf began casting, and as Greywulf's fireball shot into the room, Jaheira began her spell. As the fire began to burn the old parchment and books in the room, the blaze spread rapidly until smoke billowed from the room, causing the kobolds and memphits to pile out of the room, gasping for air. As they left the smoke, Jaheira's spell took effect, and a large swarm of insects began to engulf them, biting, itching and scratching the embattled creatures.

"Now!" roared Greywulf, signaling the adventurers to charge their enemies, easy targets with their defenses downed by the insects.

As Jaheira and Minsc slashed and stabbed, felling the majority of the enemies, Greywulf grabbed Imoen and said, "Quick, help me put out these fires. This is a library of sorts... there might be some spells of use to us."

Imoen nodded, and while Minsc and Jaheira dispatched the last remaining memphits Imoen and Greywulf dispelled the magical fire, surveying the damage.

"Looks like the fire missed the majority of the spells." Greywulf said, picking through some of the burned scrolls.

"What did you find?" asked Imoen, her curiosity piqued at the thought of learning new spells.

"There's a lot here that I don't know, and even more that you don't know." said Greywulf as he grabbed different scrolls. "The majority of the spells here are dark ones, stuff we shouldn't even be messing with. But these ones that I grabbed are regular spells, magic it should be okay for us to study."

As he spoke, Greywulf noticed Jaheira watching him slightly, and as he turned to face her, Jaheira's face quickly turned to the side, leaving no trace that she had been watching Greywulf.

Greywulf narrowed his eyes slightly, becoming more and more irritated with Jaheira's secretive behavior, but was brought back to attention when Imoen asked to see some of the spells he had mentioned.

"Uh, yeah. Here." Greywulf said, handing her a few spells he already knew.

"You know what, Greywulf?" mentioned Imoen. "This place, this room reminds me a lot of Candlekeep. You know, before we left it. All the books, dusty tomes everywhere, scrolls piled in large heaps. It really makes me wish we could go back there, you know?"

Greywulf turned his attention toward Imoen, and smiled as he said, "It does, doesn't it. You can almost picture Gorion in this kind of place, amongst all these books."

"Now is not really the time to reminisce about old friends! What we should be worrying about is the people who are still in the present. We can't sit here wasting time when Khalid is still missing!" Jaheira said angrily, unable to be patient any longer.

"Just trying to lighten the mood a bit, Jaheira..." Greywulf tried to explain, but she had already stalked off to the other side of the room, the opposite door awaiting their travel. Greywulf shook his head and stood while tucking the scrolls away though Imoen was still glaring at the druid. He put his hand on Imoen's shoulder, diverting her angry looks from Jaheira's direction.

"Be patient, Imoen... she's still worried about Khalid. They share a bond that none of us know; not knowing his fate must be tearing her up inside." Greywulf said.

"I know, but tearing everyone up and down instead isn't going to get him back. At least before this whole mess started she was beginning to look like she might actually be having some semblance of fun." Imoen said as she walked over to pull a few arrows from the kobold's quivers.

_I don't like to say anything, but I'm beginning to agree with Imoen. Jaheira is stressed over something, and it's not just about Khalid. That's a big part of it, but there's something else she's worried about. I'm pretty sure it has something to do with me, too. The sideways glances she's been giving me, the constant questions and suspicion she's been directing towards me; it's almost as if I'm losing the trust she's placed in me, and I don't know why._

Greywulf was suddenly knocked out of his thoughts as Minsc slapped him on the back, saying, "Come Greywulf, we are all ready to begin moving again. You can read your scrolls while we walk."

Greywulf nodded and began traveling down another hallway with the group once again, leaving the burnt, smoky room behind them, along with questions in Greywulf's mind, questions without an answer.

X X X X X X X X

As the small yet determined group continued their march down the corridors of the dungeon, another explosion rocked the very road they trod, shaking small pieces of rock and dust from both ceiling and wall. Right after, another explosion hit, this one seemingly much closer as it knocked the adventurers to the ground.

"They're getting closer." Imoen stated nervously. "Whoever these guys are that are attacking, it sounds like they're winning. At the very least, we haven't seen our captor again."

"And with any luck, it'll stay that way." finished Greywulf, as the group rounded another corner and found a large room, complete with anvil and forge, hammer and tongs, all the materials for a smithy. As they took in the new sights in front of them, a gruff voice came from a shadow in the back of the room, saying,

"Aye now, what are you prisoners doing out of your cells? Get back there 'afore the master gets back, or he'll flay you alive!"

A small group of dwarves, numbering seven, slipped out of the shadows, weapons drawn, and moved slowly towards the company.

"We've no quarrel with you dwarves. Kindly step aside and we can avoid any unnecessary bloodshed." stated Greywulf, bringing his staff to bear nonetheless.

"I be not thinking so." the dwarf said with a sneer. "If'n we stop ye, the master will be rewarding us. So come on then boys, Illyich can smell that gold already!" As the dwarves began to rush Greywulf, an arrow flew from Imoen's bow, striking one dwarf through the neck, felling him instantly. Before she could prepare to fire again, the other six dwarves moved into close combat, wielding an assortment of maces, war hammers, and axes. As Greywulf dodged a swing by an axe, he cast one of his new spells upon the dwarf, putting a cloud of confusion into the dwarf's brain, rendering him unable to tell friend from foe, nor much else. While the dwarf staggered around, swinging his axe at random, Minsc engaged two of the stout enemies, fending off their assaults yet unable to mount one of his own. Finally, he dodged a war hammer swing and was able to stab the wielder through the chest, a mortal blow.

The other dwarf used the opportunity to score a hit with his mace, but the blow glanced off of Minsc's chain armor, and was stopped short of doing any permanent damage to the ranger. Minsc responded to the blow by swinging again, this time beheading the dwarf before he could move out of range. Meanwhile, Imoen was dodging and diving with her dagger in hand, trying to keep away from the swing of one of the dwarf's axe. Suddenly, Imoen's hand darted out and snagged the handle of the axe, and by using it as leverage, pulled the dwarf and herself together, adding the force of his movement to the force of her dagger, stabbing through the dwarf's chest with it.

Jaheira, faced with two adversaries, fought like a woman possessed, her spear swinging and stabbing, until she had dispatched both dwarves, one clubbed to death with the butt of her spear, the other impaled. As the dwarves fell and died, Illyich turned to grab the dwarf that was walking around randomly, hoping to shake him out of it, but instead, the confused dwarf turned to slash at his leader, scoring a direct hit upon the crown of the helmet, knocking him to the ground. He then turned to wander again, finally being slain with a magical arrow by Greywulf. As Illyich tried to right himself, the group of wearied companions surrounded him, all with their weapons at the ready.

"All right, dwarf, you're going to lead us out of here, is that understood?" Greywulf snarled.

When the dwarf finally got to his feet, he gave a quick laugh, and then spat, "I don't think so, laddie. I might be going down, but I'm taking ye with me."

With that, the dwarf pulled a hidden dagger from his robes and lunged for Greywulf, burying it into his shoulder before he was felled by one of Imoen's arrows. Greywulf emitted a scream of pain as the blow landed, and fell to his knees, pulling the dagger out as he fell.

"You need some healing for that wound." Imoen said with concern as she rushed to Greywulf's side, pulling some water from her supplies, preparing to wash the wound.

"We have no time for a complete field dressing." stated Jaheira, bending down to look at the shoulder. "Some quick healing spells will have to do instead."

Jaheira began chanting in a voice that exuded power, as light shone from her hands, entering the wound. Slowly, the blood began to seep back into the wound and the hole began to close, a scar appearing in its stead.

"There." Jaheira said, standing up. "Another spell wound be necessary to heal it completely, but we must conserve for other times as well."

"Agreed." said Greywulf, rubbing his shoulder tenderly as he stood as well. "Has anybody checked the bodies? Rielev said they had one of the keys to escaping this place."

Minsc walked over to the leader, and began rummaging through the robes, pulling out a large handful of gold pieces, and two small leather bags. When Minsc opened the first bag, he said with a puzzled look on his face, "Minsc is confused. There are acorns in this little bag. Why would dwarves be eating acorns? Acorns are for people like Boo, not stinky dwarves."

"Give them to me." Jaheira said, taking the bag from Minsc and examining the acorns carefully. "There is something strange about these. Imoen, can you cast an identify spell upon these?"

Imoen nodded and as she cast the spell, a smile blossomed upon her face, saying, "They're definitely magical... but it isn't a dark magic, there is something beautiful about these acorns, something with a good feel to it."

Greywulf shrugged and then said, "Makes sense. No reason for dwarves to have acorns down here if they're not valuable. Heck, it doesn't make sense for dwarves to have acorns period. Speaking of which, what was with those dwarves anyway? They weren't any dwarven race I recall."

Imoen snorted as Jaheira handed Greywulf the leather pouch. "That's because you were skipping out on your lessons at Candlekeep while Gorion always forced me to learn. Those were duergar dwarves, generally kind of evil. Makes sense that they'd be working for our captor."

"Quite the setup, isn't it." Jaheira said, looking around. "A large assassin army, golem guards to protect him in his lair, a dungeon for prisoners, and dwarf smithies for weapons."

"The dwarves probably make the knives," Imoen said oddly, touching a small scar on her face. "The knives he tortured us with. I'm going to have some scars from this, Greywulf… looks like you will too."

"Don't worry, Imoen." Greywulf said determinedly, "He's not getting a hold of us again. We're getting out of here, and then we'll find out just who this guy is and what he wants."

Minsc had already opened the second of the bags, this time pulling out a silver key, though the end of it looked unlike any normal key they had seen before. He tossed it to Greywulf who nodded with gratitude, tucking it into a pouch on his belt.

After he had spoken to Imoen, Greywulf turned to the rest of the group and began walking down the room's exit, leading the stalwart companions once again. As the walkers reached another room, Greywulf motioned for the other three to halt, as he walked over to a corner of the room and sat down.

"Why are you resting now?" asked Jaheira, a slightly irritated tone to her voice. "We must leave as quickly as possible."

"I know," said Greywulf, pulling a number of scrolls from his robes, "But if we keep wandering blindly, we'll never get out before that wizard returns. As I recall, I might have picked up a spell that could be useful. The scrolls might give me some insight; if I can figure out how to shape the magic just right... well, you'll see."

Minsc turned and shrugged at Jaheira, and sat down in another corner, pulling Boo from his pocket and feeding the small hamster bits and pieces of bread, while Imoen sat down next to Greywulf, reading the scrolls that Greywulf was studying. Jaheira glowered for a moment, then turned on her heel and stood guard over the next hallway, not bothering to sit or rest but content to maintain watch.

"Mind if I have a look at these scrolls?" Imoen asked as she snatched a few from Greywulf's pile.

"Go ahead, but I doubt you'll be able to learn anything from them, and even if you can, I doubt you could use them."

"And why is that, 'Mr. I don't need to study every morning to cast magic'?" Imoen asked with a slightly indignant tone to her voice.

"Because, you're just not skilled enough in magic yet." Greywulf chuckled as he continued to skim through scrolls, attempting to decipher some of the writing written on them. "These scrolls all contain high power spells, the likes of which can be very dangerous to the caster if he doesn't know what he's doing. In fact, the majority of these spells, like Flesh to Stone and Disintegrate are spells I would hesitate to use except under dire circumstances. The ones of real power though, like Dragon's Breath and Imprisonment were hidden away for the most part, the scrolls written in an ancient form of Elvish which few can translate. This language was used by the great Elven sorcerers of long ago; used by those who banished the mightiest of demons, even the Balors, into the abyss."

Imoen's eyes grew rather wide, but she covered it quickly when she smirked and teased, "Well, I guess I was wrong about you not paying attention at Candlekeep. When it came to learning about ancient sorcerers and demons, you were all over it. But when it was grammar and mathematics, you were off playing hooky."

"That would be about right." said Greywulf with a smile. "Wait, here's the spell I was looking for. Give me a minute, and I think this might help us escape."

As Greywulf's quick, half-elven eyes flashed across the parchment, his mind quickly figuring how to shape his own sorcerous powers around the spell, finally, he tucked the parchment away, then began a slow incantation, invoking the spell's power. When he finished, his eyes began to flash with light, as he began looking around at the various walls, as if looking straight through them. Finally, after about two minutes, his eyes faded back to their regular color, and Greywulf smiled.

"This way!" he exclaimed, darting down the corridor Jaheira had been guarding.

As he kept running, Imoen caught up with his pace, and asked between breaths, "What was that?"

"A Clairvoyance spell... never really had much use for them till now. Although it would have proven handy in the Undercity in Baldur's Gate, now that I think about it..."

Imoen nodded and followed Greywulf until the group finally arrived at another room, however this one was much more lavish than the previous ones. Containing painted walls, bookcases, sofas, desks, and even a few mirrors, it seemed strangely out of place among the dark and gloomy dungeon.

"What manner of place is this?" voiced Jaheira, looking around at the decorated room. "These furnishings do not seem at all in place among this dungeon."

"Perhaps the room Rielev spoke of? The 'Mistress' room', whatever it is."

But her question remained unanswered, and so they returned their attention to the room before them. As Minsc began to step into the room's interior, a stone he stepped upon depressed, opening a small hole in the wall where a flock of arrows shot through. Just before they hit Minsc, Greywulf leapt forward and pointed with his hand, shouting incantations. A jet of flame shot between the arrows path and Minsc, burning the arrows to harmless ash seconds before striking the unsuspecting ranger. Minsc looked around in shock and then rubbed his forehead, saying, "Whew! Minsc could have been skewered if not for you, Greywulf. This room is probably full of such tricky traps, traps which are, well, tricky."

Greywulf looked around the room, his eyes narrowed, and then turned, saying to Imoen, "Check it. Hopefully your thief skills haven't gotten too rusty while you've been studying magic."

She grinned at his unspoken challenge, then walked through the different areas of the room, proving herself once more as she disarmed trap after trap. Once the room was completely safe, the four split up through the room, mounting a quick but thorough search. "Anything?"

"Just some gems, and a number of gold coins. I figure taking some of this burdensome money off his hands is repayment for our host's generosity in letting us stay here, if you know what I mean." said Imoen with a smirk.

Jaheira let out a rare smile, and then said much the same as Imoen, handing Greywulf a number of coins as well as some potions she had found.

"What about you, Minsc?" asked Greywulf, turning to face the ranger.

"I found nothing," Minsc said as he took another bite of bread that he had in one hand, "Except this loaf of bread. Boo was getting hungry, so we decided to have a small snack."

As Minsc brought a piece of parchment to his mouth to wipe the crumbs from it, Jaheira said, "Minsc, do you ever stop thinking about your stomach?"

Before Minsc could answer, Greywulf darted towards Minsc and grabbed the parchment from his hand. "Minsc! Where did you get this!"

Minsc gave Greywulf a slightly annoyed look, and said, "In a locked cabinet, behind a secret panel inside of it with a false bottom. There was also a trap on it, but it had broken and was not working. It would have made a very useful napkin. Boo suggested it."

With a disgusted shake of the head, Greywulf said, "No, Minsc! Tell Boo this is not for wiping your mouth with! This is something very important! Do you see the writing on here?"

All three of Greywulf's companions, equally puzzled, peered at the scroll, and then backed away, Imoen saying, "I don't recognize the writing. Is it more ancient Elvish?"

"A form of it." Greywulf said, studying the inscriptions. "But this is no ordinary spell scroll. I can't decipher the whole scroll yet, only the first few lines. But what I can read, says this:_ 'And so it came to pass that the Elf-sorcerers gave up their magics for a guardian role, bound by fate and honor to safeguard the demons they had both unleashed and bound, for eternity until the ending of the Realms. And their staffs, the avatars of Elven magic bestowed by the Powers of Light and Heaven were hidden from mortal and immortal sight for a time, only to be accessed again by those of pure heart, and that the spirits of the ancients themselves deem worthy.'_ After that, the writing descends into another script I cannot decipher, but if this is truly what I think it is, it might be the key to unlocking the magic powers of the Five!"

"Who are the Five?" Minsc asked, still not quite sure why he couldn't have his napkin back.

"All right," Greywulf said, exasperated. "I'll explain it again. The Five were the core group of the elven mages over a millennia ago.They were the guardian council of the elven kingdom. Each created a powerful staff, through which they focused their spells, causing their spell power to grow ten and one hundred fold."

Before Greywulf could continue, Minsc interrupted again, asking, "You have a staff as well, Greywulf. Is that the kind you speak of?"

"By all means, no. This is merely a quarterstaff, possibly imbued with a few spells to make it more powerful in combat. It does not augment my spells, nor does it increase my casting power. The staffs that the Five had did all those things. As I have heard in legend, the staffs were also used as weapons, alongside their powerful elven swords."

Jaheira nodded, and said, "And their swords were hidden as well when they perished, is that correct?"

"Yes," Greywulf responded, turning his eye to Jaheira. "But I don't think this scroll deals with their swords, just their staffs. This scroll has something to do with them… it'll take a while before I can interpret it all though; it will have to wait until later. Any advantage we can get over our captor would be welcome, but for now, we should just keep going."

Greywulf tucked the scroll into his robes, and then began heading down the next hallway, his companions following as well. When they had traveled no more than a mile of endless halls and desolate dungeon path, Greywulf motioned for the group to stop, and pointed ahead of them, gesturing with his staff.

"What is it?" whispered Jaheira, bringing her spear to the ready.

"Listen!" Greywulf hissed, staying completely still.

As the group listened, the sound of heavy footsteps began to echo down the hall. Imoen quickly wrapped the cloak she wore around her and ducked into the shadows, while Minsc did the same, covering Greywulf and Jaheira with his tremendous bulk as well. As the group hid, Greywulf peeked out from around Minsc's arm to see a large, hulking flesh golem stomped by, not seeing the hidden adventurers in his patrol. After the golem had passed them by a rather large distance, the group stepped back out and continued on their path.

"The guards are starting to get tougher. Golems instead of kobolds. We must be getting closer to the exit, wherever it is." Jaheira said.

Greywulf nodded and motioned for the others to continue down the passage, as quietly as possible. As they traveled, a faint noise began to drift down the hallway, permeating the ears of the four walkers.

"What is that?" asked Imoen, a look of wonder and suspicion on her face. "It's like…singing. Something beautiful, but sad in this wretched place. I can't describe it."

"I feel it too, Imoen." Greywulf replied. "Whatever it is that's singing, I'd like to find it soon. It'll be a welcome change from the dreariness we've seen for too long."

Suddenly, the corridor they traveled began to widen, breaking out into an enormous area, covered in leaves, branches, and all manner of exotic greenery. However, what really drew the attention of the four travelers was the sight of five gigantic trees seated evenly around the room.

"What is this?" Jaheira whispered, looking around in awe. "I did not sense Nature's presence in this place. How could I not with such a display?"

"It is because we are shielded, kept by force from all we once loved."

The sad, soft-spoken voice came from one of the enormous trees, and as the sorcerer, thief, druid and ranger turned to look, a woman appeared from the tree, slowly becoming more and more visible. Even as she appeared, four others began to come, each based around a different tree. As Greywulf studied them, his eyes suddenly widened, realizing the nature of the beings before him.

"Dryads." Imoen whispered. "They're so beautiful. I've never seen anything like them before. Were you the ones we heard singing a little bit ago? It was very beautiful."

"Thank you child," one of the dryads said, a sad look upon her face. "Our songs are no longer happy, but are saddened by the darkness around us, the absence of the nature we crave."

"I know how you feel." Jaheira said, obviously pained to see the dryads in such a situation. "How did you come to be here in such a terrible location?"

"We were set upon unawares, taken captive many months ago, and we have yet to be released or found. You are the first people to talk to us since Irenicus brought us here."

"Irenicus." Greywulf said, a hard tone to his voice. "So... our captor finally has a name. What can you tell us about him?"

"We do not know much of him, only that he comes to visit us sometimes. We sense that he is reminded of someone who brought him happiness when looking at us, but it is a happiness he can never again attain."

"Irenicus." Imoen cut in with an angry shake of the head. "That name… synonymous with death and ugliness. He doesn't deserve happiness, only death for what he's done."

"But why do you remain here?" asked Minsc. "You do not seem to be caged as we were."

"Our trees!" They cried in one voice. "We cannot leave our trees. For if we were to escape, Irenicus would surely destroy them, destroying us as well."

"Is there naught we can do to help you?" asked Greywulf.

"Yes," said one dryad solemnly. "The trees each are each bound by one magical acorn. If our queen, the mistress of the dryads were to gain possession of our acorns, she could transport our trees and ourselves to safety. But we no longer have these treasures. He has given them to a duergar dwarf named Illyich for safekeeping. He will never give them back willingly."

Greywulf smiled and replied, "I think we may have already encountered this Illyich fellow, and we managed to 'persuade' him to give the acorns up. Are these the ones you speak of?"

Greywulf held out the acorns to the dryads, and watched their faces fill with joy.

"Yes! These are the ones! Please, bring them to our mistress. Please help us!"

"Do not worry, ladies," Minsc said grandly, lifting Boo high in hand, "For Minsc and Boo shall make sure that you are freed. Even if we have to travel to the ends of the earth to deliver these, they will be delivered. Um, where are they to be delivered anyway?"

"Our mistress is located in a dryad glade known as Letherel. That is the Elvish name for the area, as well as the name by which we know it by. Because you bear the acorns, you should be allowed to pass. It is located in the Windspear hills. You should have no trouble finding the trees that surround Letherel, only getting into it. But for you to leave this place, you will need the three keys that unlock the portal upward. Once there, you should have little trouble finding the way out. We have one of the keys, and you would have scavenged the piece the dwarves held. Here is the key you seek."

"Thank you fair ladies," Greywulf said, bowing low. "Before we depart, can you tell us where to find the "Mistress' Room?" We heard of it from another creature in this dungeon... they said it possessed the third portion of the key leading out of here."

One of the dryads spoke up, saying, "Please, be careful when entering! It is very, very, dangerous. But you are correct, you must pass if you are to leave. It is another reminder to him... of the life he once led."

"We will be careful. Please, tell no one you've seen us... and I promise that if we leave this place, we will save you." Greywulf said after the dryads gave himdirections to the room, the third path of the intersection they had initially encountered. He bowed low as they left them, their haunting melody beginning to echo once more as they departed.

X X X X X X X X X

"The sanctity of the Mistress' room has been violated. The intruders must be destroyed."

"I'm really beginning to hate this Irenicus guy." Greywulf muttered as the two golems standing the doorway to the Mistress' room charged, summoned by magic almost as soon as they had finished searching the room, lifting the third key from it's resting place on a pedestal.

Minsc responded in kind, rushing forward to meet the first of the flesh golems midstride, using his momentum to bring a slash across the torso of one golem as he dodged under the strike of the construct. Through the powerful and chaotic magic of the sword he wielded, the golem crumpled to the floor, though only wounded and not destroyed. While Minsc followed up against the first golem, Jaheira and Imoen fought the second, but to no avail. It was not flesh but clay, and Jaheira's spear had no visible effect when thrust into the golem's chest, nor did Imoen's arrows. Greywulf did not bother casting spells upon the magic resistant monster, but merely dodged back and forth in the golem's range, hitting and slamming it with his quarterstaff as he went. With one outstretched swing and a muttered spell to charge his staff with magic, Greywulf finally managed to club off one of the golem's arms. Its vengeance was swift, knocking Greywulf back with the strength of its massive remaining arm.

Meanwhile, Minsc was finishing off the golem he had slashed, making sure it would not rise when his back was turned. When satisfied, he rushed to help destroy the second golem, even the magic of his sword inflicting little damage to the mostly impervious monster. While Minsc distracted the golem, Greywulf picked himself up from where the golem had tossed him, his head throbbing with the impact. Another blow like that would do more damage than he cared to endure, and so he felt for the keys they had found, hoping to find something to get them out. Two of the keys had small notches in them, and on a flash of insight, he quickly tried snapping the keys together, the magic of the items merging as one.

Once combined, a thin beam of bluish magic swirled out from it, opening a dimension door in the air before them. Greywulf called to his comrades, and after Minsc drove the golem back with another crack of his sword against the clay golem's chest, he turned and darted through the portal, Imoen and Jaheira close behind. Greywulf's eyes widened as he saw the golem charging again, within seconds of reaching him and the portal. He dove through with eyes clenched shut and mouth whispering a prayer, the tips of the golem's fingers right behind his cloak...

He found himself falling upon the bodies of his friends with a thud, piled up as the dimension door behind them closed. Falling upon them also was the other arm of the clay golem, caught inside as the dimension door closed. Imoen took the arm and looked at it with a wrinkled nose, then threw it aside, climbing off Minsc as they brushed themselves off, making sure that everyone was uninjured and safe.

When they had finally settled enough to look around, there was much the same of what they had come before, dungeon walls... but with one important difference: A large amount of dead assassins, all strewn about the floor.

"More of our cloaked friends. Irenicus must have been here." Greywulf observed.

"At least we made it to the next floor. If what the dryads said is true, the exit should be rather straightforward to find from here." Imoen said, looking at the one door before them.

The door rattled for a moment, then swung open before them, revealing a tall man with an oriental look about him, cloaked and dressed in a thieving manner, yet uniquely different from the assassins.

When he saw the four adventurers, a grin blossomed on his face and he spoke. "Ah, I see that there is sanity amongst all this madness. If you are not in league with the evil that inhabits this place, then Yoshimo begs your assistance."

In response, the man saw four weapons being pointed at him at once, with the seeming leader stepping forth and saying, "We've had kind of a rough day, so you'll excuse me if we don't exactly trust you. Try not to lie to us... who are you?

"Yes... how does Minsc and Boo know that you're not some sort of diabolical fiend, here to lure us into a trap?" Minsc said testily as he glared at the man.

The man's jaw dropped, positively shocked at the accusation. He protested, "I am no fiend! I am Yoshimo! You know, Yoshimo?"

Greywulf turned to the others, received blank stares, and then turned back to Yoshimo and said, "Sorry. Never heard of you, try again."

Yoshimo shook his head and said, "You must be new to Amn. Or at least to Athkala."

"Athkala... the City of Coin. Located in Amn." Jaheira mused, though her spear remained poised to strike.

"Well Yoshimo," Minsc said, "If that is really who you are, what are you doing in such a place as this?"

"It is kind of an embarrassing story, as people in my profession are not usually caught unawares. But-"

"Are you with our captors or not?" Jaheira ordered, Yoshimo drawing back nervously at the ire radiating from the druid. "My lady, I am most assuredly not, if that is your concern. If you were captives in this place, then I shared much the same fate as you. Only the intervention of the attacks upon this place freed me, though I fear I do not have the skill to leave on my own."

"We do not have the time to hear this." Jaheira interrupted swiftly. "Greywulf, can we trust him to accompany us?"

Turning to Yoshimo, Jaheira said with narrowed eyes and said, "For that is what you want, correct?"

Yoshimo shrugged and then nodded. Greywulf looked at the other members of the group, and then looked back at Yoshimo. "This is against my better judgment, but we could use another sword hand, especially in these circumstances. So you may join us for now. I warn you, show loyalty to us and we will protect you as one of our own. Betray us and you will suffer the consequences and be branded a traitor. I need not mention the punishments that a traitor suffers in in the Abyss."

He lowered his weapon and pointed at each member of the party in turn. "Minsc, Imoen, Jaheira. I am Greywulf."

Yoshimo bowed and as he came up displayed a grin. "I welcome your company. So, now that we are fellow travelers, I have some information for you. Hopefully it will keep us alive longer. From what I have been able to gather, we are very close to the exit. In the next room, which I have been unable to pass on my own, many imp-like creatures of all sorts attack though every time I kill one, more appear."

"Most likely memphits." Imoen stated, fingering her bow.

"I agree." said Greywulf. "Minsc, you get ready to go in, hard and fast. Once you've got their attention, Jaheira and Yoshimo will come in for backup, while Imoen and I will stay back and spell cast."

As Greywulf finished, Minsc unsheathed his large sword and charged at the closed wooden door, shouting at the top of his lungs. As the large ranger smashed through the entrance he immediately attacked the memphits in his sight, scattering them before they could react to his presence. The others quickly leapt into the room, further destroying the creatures with arrow and spear. While Jaheira, Yoshimo, and Minsc kept the memphits busy, Greywulf looked around frantically along with Imoen, searching for the source of the continual stream of memphits. Finally, Greywulf spotted something and shouted over the sounds of battle, "Over there! Those five orbs are acting as gateways to the Quasi-Elemental Plane, drawing mephitis into our world."

With that, Imoen unleashed a barrage of spells at the orbs, immolating two before she was forced to defend herself from a memphit attack. Greywulf quickly disposed of the last three with his magic, cutting of the memphit stream. Following the destruction of the portals, the remaining creatures were quickly destroyed, unable to defeat the determined fighters. After the travelers had began to clean their wounds, Jaheira frowned and began to look around the battle-torn room.

"Something wrong, Jaheira?" Greywulf asked, noticing her stares.

"I heard something, faintly at first… but I could have sworn…" Jaheira said, continuing to listen intently, her eyes scanning the room. Greywulf motioned for quiet, and all listened as well. Despite the sound of dripping water in the background, a faint hint of a voice could be heard, just loud enough to be discerned. Jaheira led the way, slowly stepping down the hall that the origin seemed to be, her spear at guard in case of a trap. As they drew closer, the voice became louder and louder, slowly coming into audible focus…

"J-Jaheira? Jaheira!"

The druid's eyes flashed wide, no mistaking the familiar voice she now heard. "Khalid!"

She broke into a full out run, abandoning restraint and caution, the first glimmer of hope on her face since they had escaped. Greywulf and the others had to sprint at full bore just to keep pace with her, the druid spurred on by the cries of her husband. It grew louder and louder as they moved, until a long corridor lay before them, a large room opening before them. Jaheira rushed in, her gaze flashing all about the room, looking for her husband…

At the long end of the room, chained to a long rack of metal and torture implements was Khalid, his face dirty, bloody and bruised as he called weakly, looking up at them with a faint smile. "J-Jaheira… you've come for me…"

"Khalid! Of course I am here! You think I would let you go so quickly? I would never… I would never…" Jaheira cried out, rushing to his side, unable to fully hide the tears beginning to show on her face, joy at seeing her husband again. She took his face and kissed him briefly before beginning to pull at his shackles, examining them for some method of release. Greywulf and Minsc began to approach with smiles of relief at seeing their companion, hoping to aid Jaheira...

A shout of rage issued from Jaheira's throat as she slammed Khalid's head agaisnt the wall behind him, raising her spear to the man's neck with a growl.

"Jaheira! What are you-" Greywulf shouted, but Jaheira hissed behind her, "Quiet, fool! Now… where is my Khalid, fiend!"

"J-Jaheira, I-"

"No more lies!" she shouted, slamming his head again, the four others drawing back in shock. "Tell me where he is, or I will make sure that you see your heart as it stops beating."

Khalid stared in horror at Jaheira for another few seconds before his eyes flashed red for a moment, a hoarse, throaty laugh emitting from him. Imoen recoiled in horror as Khalid's face grew deeper, more sunken as lines of age and wrinkles of alien origin spread over his face. His hair slowly receded and his skin turned a sickly green, his mouth baring teeth of short jagged points. No longer Khalid, but a doppelganger now stood at Jaheira's mercy, gurgling as Jaheira pushed the spear point at it's neck further, almost puncturing the skin.

"Foolish one!" the doppelganger hissed, it's claws pulling at the shackles it was in, reaching for Jaheira with a look of ravenous hunger on it's face. "Come close that I may taste your flesh again…"

"How did you know?" Yoshimo queried, cautiously pulling an arrow to his bow and aiming at the doppelganger, leaving nothing to chance.

"I know the touch of my husband." Jaheira spat. "Where is he!"

The doppelganger responded with a sneer, before glancing over to the side, cackling his choking laugh again. Jaheira frowned, following his gaze as she searched the remainder of the room furtively, looking for Khalid's familiar form…

Slowly, her eyes finally fell upon a dark corner of the room, where she noticed a long table, surrounded by all manner of unknown instruments. Jaheira slowly began walking toward the table, accompanied by Greywulf, until a form appeared on the table. When she saw the motionless form clearly, she dropped her spear in horror and disbelief.

"Kha…Khalid?" Jaheira whispered weakly, staring at what lied upon the table. Greywulf ran up to the table, and closed his eyes in sorrow, turning away from the grisly sight. The strong and noble half-elf lay upon the table, devoid of life and warmth, cold as the stone floor of the dungeon. His body was not untouched either; scars and marks lined his body, gashes and long cuts still open as blood seeped from them onto the floor. It was unthinking and uncaring torture, the product of experimentation.

"No…no, this cannot be." Jaheira cried, tears beginning to fall from her green eyes. "This is a dream… a horrible dream. Where are they, the switches, the levers to pull that will show me where they have really taken and hid him from me. Where is he?"

Jaheira scrambled to her feet, putting both hands around the doppelganger's as she screamed at him. "Tell me! Tell me!"

The doppelganger did not answer, just laughed louder and harder at Jaheira's fury. She grabbed a blade hanging on the wall off to the side and hewed at the monster's body until he stopped laughing, though she continued long after there was any need to. Her strength finally gave out as she threw the sword down by the corpse of the doppelganger, turning to collapse by the body of her dead husband instead.

"I... I knew him not, but I mourn your loss." Yoshimo said, attempting to comfort the mourning druid.

"Stranger! Outsider! You know nothing! Do not speak to me!" Jaheira spat as she knelt next to Khalid's body.

"A brave man has fallen here, but that is no reason to hurl insults at the living." Minsc said gently, offering Boo in his hand. "Here, Boo will comfort you."

"Imbecile! Affront to nature! Your words mean nothing to me!" Jaheira shouted as she turned her anger upon Minsc. "There is only one person whom I wish to hear, and he is… he is gone! Damn you… damn you… I shall have the life of the one who did this! I will tear their blackened heart from their chest! I will… no… no."

Greywulf walked up to his sobbing companion, and placed a hand on her shoulder, silently kneeling next to her as he did. As he did, she seemed to calm slightly, the tears stopping as she began to pray. "Sil… Silvanus guide the light… to the source. Take this man to what he justly deserves. By… nature's will, what was given has been returned, what was turmoil is now.. is now peace. Khalid of my heart, let my love…my love guide the way…"

As she finished, she got up and with an pained look said, "We should go now, and leave this… this tomb."

"Jaheira…" Greywulf said, trying to think of some words of comfort, anything to bring some respite to the anguish he knew she was feeling.

She turned to him with a tear-stained face and waited for him to speak. He tried, he wracked his head and heart for some comfort to give to his friend. Nothing could come, no words seemed big enough or deep enough to say to her; everything was trite and emotionless in such a crimson, blood stained mist. "I'm sorry."

She did not nod, or acknowledge his words in any way as she turned away. The tide had turned; a second blow had been struck, the only sound in the room was the dripping of blood to the floor, blood mingled with tears... the tears of a widow.


	7. Part 1: Shattered Bonds

A disturbing echo of silence consumed the five travelers as they continued on their path through the dungeon corridors, the four of those who had known Khalid in silent grief, while Yoshimo remained quiet out of respect for those he now walked with. Jaheira had not said a word since leaving the room where they had found his body, and her gaze had not met anyone else's during that time either. What she had feared most had come to pass... only time would tell the true effects of this murder on the group.

"Jaheira... I just... I wanted to say I'm sorry for what happened to Khalid." Imoen's voice, a little shaky after the gruesome sights she had seen, broke through the silence. "I know this must be hard for you..."

"No," Jaheira shot back with a cold and barely controlled anger in her voice, "Do not tell me you know... you cannot know. Do not speak of things of which you have no idea, child."

"I'm sorry," Imoen protested nervously, "I just… I thought you might want to know that Khalid... he didn't suffer. He was dead before those things were done to him-"

"What did you say?! How do you know this, Imoen?" Jaheira said darkly, whirling to face Imoen fully with a look that brooked no joking or attempts at humor on her part.

"I was there," Imoen stuttered, almost backing away from Jaheira as she tried to explain herself. "I saw Irenicus when he began to experiment. He made me watch him... watch him as he took those knives and-"

"Stop!" Jaheira shouted angrily. "I do not wish to hear any more of this... do not speak to me again!"

"I didn't mean to say those things, Jaheira, I..." Imoen protested, "Irenicus… he did something to my head…"

Jaheira turned her back on Imoen and kept walking, Imoen closing her eyes in shame and sorrow as the others glanced back and forth between the two of them. Greywulf slowed his pace enough to stand with Imoen, though his look was not exactly kind when she gazed up at him.

"Imoen, no offense, but what in the Nine Hells were you thinking!" Greywulf admonished, half whispering, half hissing. "Because if comforting was your idea, I think you missed the point."

"I didn't mean to, all right?" Imoen said, defensive now. "Ever since we've been captured, I just can't... seem to focus, maintain control of my thoughts like I used to. It's like a dark cloud settling over my mind."

Greywulf frowned, but his glare lessened slightly as they walked together. "This may be something we should check into; once we get out we'll sit down and I'' try and detect if something was done to you here that affected your mind. I haven't felt any effects like that, but we can't be sure. But from now on, please try to stay focused."

Imoen nodded with a tiny smile, and as Greywulf sped up to walk to the head of the line again, he tossed back, "But if you really end up unable to stop yourself, I could always cast a Silence spell on you."

Greywulf walked forward before Imoen could come up with a retort, but stopped next to Jaheira for a moment. He hoped to perhaps undo some of the damage Imoen's unwitting remarks had done, but the words did not seem to come. Finally, he steeled himself and murmured, "Feeling all right... do you want to talk about it?"

"What do you think?" Jaheira's voice was a harsh whisper, her eyes straight ahead. Her face was as hard and determined as ever, but the pain in her eyes… the grief and hurt was still floating too near the surface, ready to be unleashed on anybody and anything that was too near. Greywulf did not press any further, it would only lead to anger and split the group when unity was just barely within their grasp. He left her alone and turned away, leaving her to the burden of grief she bore as he continued to the head of the line, just in time to reach a large steel door blocking their path.

"Perhaps the exit we have been searching for?" Yoshimo muttered.

"I was rather hoping you might have more knowledge on this place, actually," Greywulf replied, feeling the door. "It's locked, though. And since we don't have the time to break through it, a spell will have to do."

Greywulf made some hand motions, and when he finished, the sound of the lock clicked, opening the door before them. As they walked through the open portal, Yoshimo grinned at Greywulf and asked, "That is quite the handy trick. Have you ever considered joining a profession like that of myself?"

Greywulf cocked one eyebrow at Yoshimo, and replied, "No, not really... I'm far too clumsy for that kind of thing. Imoen over there has some experience in that area, but she's more of a mage nowadays. I assume you are a thief, then? You never did tell us where you are from or how you got here."

Yoshimo laughed and said, "If you truly wish to know while we languish in this wretched place, I will tell you. I was in Athkatla, relieving a few nobles of their unearned and undeserved wealth, when I heard that there was something of great import going on in Waukeen's Promenade... a battle of large proportions. On my way there, I must have been knocked out, because all I remember is sneaking towards the district entrance one minute, and waking up in this place the next."

"Hmm. Interesting." Greywulf said, obviously still untrusting.

Yoshimo laughed again after seeing Greywulf's expression, and said, "Greywulf... somehow I sense you do not trust me yet. But I promise you, to me honor is everything. I may be a thief, but I'm an honest one. I will not break my word to you. If I promise I will be loyal, then I will be loyal."

Greywulf sighed and said, "Forgive my lack of trust, but with recent events, I try to depend on as few people as possible."

"What about them?" questioned Yoshimo, gesturing at the others.

"They are the closest thing I have to family right now." Greywulf replied, looking at his friends with fondness and sadness mixed together. "If it were not for them, I would most likely be dead right now."

_Dead… just like Khalid and Dynaheir. Unable to protect them from the curse that is my blood; forgive me, Minsc… Jaheira. I'm sorry I let you down. I'm sorry I wasn't fast enough or strong enough. I'm sorry I failed._

"And exactly how far would you be willing to go for your friends?" asked Yoshimo, a bemused look on his face as his words brought Greywulf from his inner grieving.

Greywulf looked straight back at Yoshimo and said grimly, "I would die for them… I would give my life, as the fallen gave their lives for me."

A tense silence held the two for a few seconds, until it was broken by another laugh from Yoshimo, who said, "Good. I respect those who treat their friends as they do themselves."

With that, Yoshimo lagged behind, leaving Greywulf at the head alone again.

_There's something about Yoshimo I don't quite like, _Greywulf thought._ He seems too eager, too willing to help and talk about our group. Then again, maybe he just wants to be part of the team and I'm really paranoid. Either way, I will keep an eye on him._

Their path was a short one, another steel door blocking their path, apparently a long line of defensive blockades. This one was dented and scarred by signs of battle, and the locking mechanism was obviously not working. Faint voices could be heard from the other side, though their words could not be understood. Greywulf quickly motioned for silence, creeping up to the door and trying to get a feel for what lay behind it...

A set of minor trap explosions went off as soon as they stepped too near the door, sending them all tumbling to the ground. The door swung wide as five men stepped forward, all clad in very familiar assassin garb.

"Hah, I knew he had reinforcements down here!" the man at front said triumphantly, as they climbed to their feet, the explosions more for advance warning than real damage. "You won't be aiding your master above, fools!"

"Wait just one second," Greywulf said angrily, trying to dissuade the man despite the fury still burning within him. "We've no quarrel with you, only with Irenicus… but if you attack us, I swear we'll cut you down. You really don't want to fight us… not today."

"A pox on ye if you think we'll believe such obvious lies!" he laughed. "Your master dies above, and you'll meet your end here!"

Despite his bravado, Greywulf's word was true; the anger and fury each adventurer felt at the recent tragedy and loss in their lives proved to be more than the assassins could handle. Each one was brought down mercilessly, Greywulf and Imoen decimating their ranks quickly with unopposed magic.

"They didn't seem to recognize us." Greywulf remarked, turning over one of their fallen enemies.

"It doesn't make sense." Jaheira growled. "These men attack us and bring us to Irenicus, yet now hunt him and have forgotten all about us."

"That's sad." Imoen said, a hint of a smile creeping onto her face. "I feel kind of left out. You know, they went to all the trouble of capturing us and then they just go and forget about us. Don't we mean anything to them? After all we went through together?"

The joke was enough to bring a faint smile to most of the group, though Jaheira merely continued searching the bodies, glaring at Imoen in obvious disapproval and anger.

As they continued, another large explosion rocked the building, bringing small pieces of ceiling down. Even as they struggled to maintain balance, the structure was hit with another explosion, this one obviously important. As the entire place began shaking and vibrating, Greywulf looked at the others and shouted, "The whole place will be coming down soon! We must get out, now!"

The group did their best to stay upright as they sprinted through the straight passage, though staying on their feet as their surroundings crumbled was no easy task. The last few steel doors were either open or broken down, a lucky thing since there was no time for them to make their own way through. Finally, a flight of steps appeared before them, with a beacon of light shining through it. The mere sight of the exit granted strength, and as the last of the group leapt out of the exit, a final explosion rocked the ground, collapsing the tunnel they had just come through in a giant cloud of dust and smoke.

No time was given for relaxation though; before them was the sight of the man they had come to loathe: Irenicus. His attention was elsewhere, however. He stood amidst a large pile of rubble, apparently the area around the exit of the tunnel. He was besieged by a number of the hooded men, all lunging at him with an assortment of weapons, yet he seemed unscathed.

"You dare to attack me, here?" Irenicus roared, a blast of fire destroying another of his attackers. "Do you even know whom you face? You will suffer! You will all suffer!"

"Nobody crosses the Shadow Thieves and lives! Die!" one man cried out as he lunged forward, though his attack had scarcely begun before his body was turned to stone, shattering with a second attack of fiery arrows.

Irenicus' twisted power was turned on the remaining thieves as he raised his arms once more, magics swirling and forming at his command. Within seconds, the final attackers had been slaughtered, never seeming to lay a hand on the powerful mage. As the last of his attackers were dispatched, he turned to face the newly freed group, who had been watching in a mix of horror and curiosity.

"So, godchild, I see you have escaped. Believe it or not... I am pleased. It would not have served my purposes for you to die... just yet. You have proved even more resourceful than I had originally thought."

"You're not taking us again, here or anywhere!" shouted Imoen. "We won't let you torture us anymore!"

Irenicus shook his head and said with a grotesque smile, "Torture? Silly girl, you just don't understand what I'm doing, do you?"

"I understand you're a perverted monster who deserves nothing but death for what you've done!" snarled Greywulf, ready to fight.

"I won't let you leave, not when I'm so close to unlocking your power." Irenicus said, all sign of humor leaving his face.

"Power! All this for power?" Jaheira spat. "Nature's power will bury you, monster!"

"We don't want anything from you!" Imoen said with a quavering voice, releasing a barrage of magic missiles at Irenicus who sneered as he waved a hand, deflecting them with ease.

"Enough of this foolishness! I will no longer listen to the babbling of ignorant children. If you will not submit to my mastery willingly... I will simply teach you respect once more." he sneered as he unleashed a barrage of lightning to send them all flying, the electricity still playing over their bodies as they attempted to get up and fight. Irenicus' second attack was interrupted as a loud voice came from the air, accompanied with several flashes of light.

"Halt! This is an unsanctioned use of magical energy. All those involved will be held!" Through the light portals, five cloaked and robed men stepped forward, all with staffs in hand.

Visibly enraged, Irenicus turned to the newcomers and screamed, "Must I be interrupted at every turn! Enough of this!" With that, he turned his spells upon the cowled men, annihilating two before they could respond. The other three began casting spells, blasting Irenicus with all manner of spells as well, but to no avail. Imoen barely managed to stand, already beginning the words to her most basic attack spells, even as Greywulf winced, slowly regaining feeling in his body.

"I haven't the time for this, fools! Flee if you value your lives!" shouted the mage, blasting away yet still seemingly unharmed himself.

"You will cease your spell casting and come with us!" commanded one of the wizards, just before he was disintegrated.

"What is happening here?" Minsc asked, stumbling to his feet with his sword drawn but with no clue of what to do.

"Stay out of this." whispered Yoshimo, holding Minsc back. "I know who these cowled men are, and they are not ones to meddle with."

Minsc looked at Greywulf for confirmation, and got it as he saw Greywulf pull Imoen back from her casting, whispering something to her quickly.

The battle continued to rage in a seemingly unending cycle, Irenicus destroying his adversaries while more teleported in to take the place of the fallen.

"This mage's power is immense! We must overwhelm him quickly!" cried one wizard, unleashing a bolt of lightning at Irenicus.

"Your pathetic magics are useless. Let this end." Irenicus sneered, striking down another wizard.

"You cannot win." stated one of the new arrivals, firing a blast of flame at the barely injured man. "You may kill us, but we are many. You will eventually be overwhelmed."

At this, Irenicus responded by increasing the ferocity of his attacks, but suddenly stopped, letting the blue flame at his hand quench itself. He smirked at the hesitating wizards, then raised his hands and said with a barely noticeable smile, "You bore me, mageling. You may take me in, but you will take the girl as well."

Imoen stepped backward in horror, exclaiming, "What? No, I've done nothing wrong!"

One of the wizards walked up to her and took her by the arm, saying, "You have been involved in illegal spell casting as well. You will accompany us to face judgment with him."

Imoen recoiled as a fist clenched around her arm, crying with terror to her companions as they began their teleportation incantations. "Help! Please! Help-" a spell was cast, enclosing her in a glowing globe of magic. The same had been done to Irenicus, and the mages began to disappear, taking their prisoners with them.

"Wait!" Greywulf shouted, jumping forward to grab Imoen, but he was too late, coming up with nothing but air as the portals closed. Greywulf picked himself up off the ground, and looked around, obviously infuriated. "Damn it! When I find those bastards…"

"You know more than you tell us, thief." Jaheira spat, striding towards a visibly worried Yoshimo, grabbing his tunic and pulling him close. "What is going on here! Where have they taken Imoen!"

"Your anger... is misplaced, Jaheira." Yoshimo struggled, Minsc pulling Jaheira away though her glare did not move. "I believe I know both the groups who are involved, though if my fears are true we will be hard pressed to recover Imoen."

"Imoen…" Greywulf said softly, his head downcast, anger giving way to sorrow. The loss of Dynaheir had hurt Minsc deeply; the loss of Khalid had consumed Jaheira to the point of barely suppressed rage. Though Greywulf had mourned both of those companions, having Imoen taken was like someone had dropped a load of bricks on his heart. He now understood what caused Jaheira's anger, her frustration.

Despite all of this... he knew that if all of them fell into despair and revenge, their path would be a dark one. Somebody had to lead them with a logical and clear mind, and he could not let himself go as he wished. Looking up with renewed determination, the only sign of his previous anger was a smoldering fire still present in his eyes. "Go ahead then. What exactly do you know of these men?"

"Er, perhaps we should get someplace more private first," Yoshimo said quietly, looking around at the rubble surrounding them. "People are staring, and the guards won't be far behind now that the fighting is over."

Yoshimo led them away with great speed, ducking away from watching eyes, and possible troublemakers, not stopping even as they navigated through several twists and turns in the back alleys of the city. Greywulf commented as they moved, "I'm surprised the guards hadn't done something during the fight... if this were Baldur's Gate, the Flaming Fist would've been all over that."

"Ah yes... I know the mercenaries you speak of." Yoshimo said with a wry smile. "I have no doubt they would be more than willing to meddle in such an affair there, but as you say, this is not Baldur's Gate. Amnish politics are controlled by more than the government... the evidence of which you just saw. Here in Athkatla, thieves rule the night, and those who wield the power of magic are either part of the 'solution' or part of the problem."

"Just what do you mean by that?" Greywulf questioned with a deep breath as they stopped for a moment.

"Magic use in Athkatla is strictly monitored..." Yoshimo explained with a shrug. "You would be well advised to maintain a low-profile in using your spells here, Greywulf... at least on the streets. One of two power organizations in Amn, the Cowled Wizards, are given free reign to maintain this monopoly on spell casting."

"Cowled Wizards? Were they the mages who took Imoen and Irenicus?" Minsc asked with a frown.

"Yes... if you are not one of their number then they make sure you are under their authority. The 'service' they perform in removing troublesome mages is important enough that the Amnish government cannot interfere in the rest of their affairs."

"What do they do with these mages?" Greywulf asked, a chill beginning to run through him. _If they hurt Imoen..._

"I do not know for certain, but I assume she will be taken where they take all magic-users who break the moratorium on spell-casting."

"Where is this place?" asked Jaheira with a frown.

"The name is unknown to me, but it is a place where the Cowled Wizards put all their enemies, political and foreign. Officially though... it is a prison for corrupt-magic users."

"Do you know where this prison is?" Minsc asked worriedly.

"I'm afraid not... I doubt if most of the government officials in the city know. As I said," Yoshimo sighed, "The government's power is not what it should be..."

"So what you're really saying is that there's no chance of us getting Imoen back through the legal system." Greywulf growled.

"Ah... but the next power of Amn is not legal either." Yoshimo grinned. "The assassins in the cloaks... you heard one of them mention the name. Shadow Thieves, a guild without rivals... until now."

Before Yoshimo could say more, a young boy ran up, their weapons quickly rising in alarm. "Hey, you guys are the ones who were involved in the attack in Waukeen's Promenade, right?"

"What do you know of us?" asked Greywulf, suspicion rising within him.

"My name's Brus. I was sent to find you and tell you that a group wants to talk to you about what happened earlier. If you decide to talk, I'll be waiting at the Copper Coronet Inn at the outside of the slum district." With that, the boy ran off, quickly lost in the dark alleyways of the city.

"What do you think that was about?" asked Minsc, trying to spot Brus again, but with no luck.

"Who else?" Yoshimo shrugged. "The Shadow Thieves have apparently taken interest in you and your group... I had no idea you were so popular around here... perhaps I should have been the one suspicious about joining you."

Greywulf shook his head in disbelief. "You're telling me that this group of assassins was hired by Irenicus to hunt us down, then they turn on him, and now they want to meet us? Why should we agree to any such thing?"

"It's your choice, really." Yoshimo shrugged. "We don't have to go, but if the Shadow Thieves are taking the trouble to send someone to contact us... they probably seek more than our deaths."

"I'll think about it." Greywulf said, looking at the rest of the group. "Meanwhile, we should keep moving. No sense in escaping from Irenicus to get killed by the city guards."

Turning to the rest of the group, he asked, "Unless of course you all disagree with me. If you guys want to go see these thieves now, then we can go, but I think we should get some rest first."

Boo squeaked for a moment; Minsc smiled and replied, "Boo says that he could use a nap. Minsc agrees. We need to be at full strength so that when we meet these sneaky people tomorrow, we can be fully prepared to lay out a butt-kicking for goodness!"

Jaheira turned away in obvious disdain at Minsc's remarks, though thankfully Minsc did not seem to notice. Greywulf shot a concerned look in Jaheira's direction, but in hoping to defuse the situation made a decision quickly. "All right then. We'll head to the nearest inn... Yoshimo, you know this city fairly well. Lead the way."

Yoshimo bowed once and then hurried through the streets, bringing the adventurers in routes they would never have navigated or found on their own. As they traveled, the smell of trash and stink of decay threatened to overwhelm them on a few occasions, but they forged on nevertheless, finally reaching a small, crowded inn. As they went inside, the noisy room quieted to a deafening silence, all eyes affixed on the new arrivals.

"Friendly bunch, aren't they." Greywulf whispered to Yoshimo.

"Our profile is not exactly low right now." Yoshimo winced, "But things have been rather on edge lately. What with the guild war…" Before Greywulf could ask what Yoshimo was talking about, he felt a rough tap on the back of his shoulder. As he turned, he saw a guard standing before him, a rather disgusted look on his face.

"Yes sir...is there something you want?" asked Greywulf, trying to be as polite as possible even as he saw Jaheira's hand tighten around her spear beside him.

"Yeah," the man said, peering at Greywulf and his companions. "I know you people were involved with the explosion and all the ruckus today in the Promenade. Now we don't want any trouble or magic in here, got it? You just remember that and we'll all be fine."

Greywulf gave the man a curt smile, and then continued to walk towards the bartender finally reaching the man as the clients finally began to resume their normal activities.

The bartender looked at the newcomers with a disgruntled eye, and resumed wiping the counter as he grunted, "Whaddya want."

"Two rooms for the rest of today and tonight." Greywulf said, feeling in his coin pouch for the money they had picked up so far. "How much will that be?"

"Twenty gold each." the man grunted, continuing to wipe the counter with the soiled rag in his hands.

"Twenty gold? Isn't that a little steep?" Greywulf asked, one eyebrow raised in surprise.

"Look, twenty gold each, take it now or I raise the price to thirty." The man said roughly. Jaheira, visibly angry, grabbed the man by his collar and put her fist to his face. "Now look here, lecherous fool. You'll accept the rate of five gold per room, which is more than this rat hole you call an inn is worth paying for."

The man's eyes opened wide, and he almost looked like he would faint, but he regained his composure quickly and grumbled as he collected the ten gold pieces from the group.

"Nice work Jaheira, but I hope that guard didn't see you pull that stunt." Greywulf told her as they walked upstairs with their keys in hand. "We have enough trouble as it is."

"If they bother us, they will regret it." Jaheira said quietly, stopping by two rooms. "These are the ones."

"All right," Greywulf said, looking at his three comrades. "Minsc and I will sleep in one room, Jaheira and Yoshimo will sleep in the other. No sense in torturing the new guy with Minsc's snoring all night long... or day, as it happens to be right now."

_And hopefully keeping Minsc and Jaheira apart will prevent any more hurt feelings among the group. Maybe Yoshimo will be a fairly rational and calming influence..._

Minsc looked slightly confused about the snoring remark but nodded his approval, while Jaheira nodded as well. Yoshimo grinned and said, "Do not worry. I will be fine sharing the room with such a lovely and attractive lady as Jaheira. In fact, I know that we will get along just-"

_Rational and calming indeed. _Before Yoshimo could finish, Greywulf grabbed him and said, "On second thought, I'll share the room with Jaheira, Minsc and Yoshimo, you sleep in that room."

Yoshimo's smile left as he heard this, and sighed, "If it must be so. Either way, we should head out at nightfall. Less chance of attracting unwanted law attention."

_And more chance of attracting every other kind of unwanted attention,_ Greywulf thought as Minsc and Yoshimo entered their room. Looking back at Jaheira, he saw that she had already entered the room and put her small pack of belongings beside one bed and lain down upon it, spear leaning within close reach. _She's getting moodier by the day. More like the hour, actually._ Greywulf thought._ I know she's going through some hard times right now, but if she doesn't open up to her friends, this anger... this desire for vengeance will consume her. We have to help her somehow. She's putting herself at deadly risk, as well as the rest of us by acting like such a loner. I'll try and talk to her tonight before we leave. It hasn't helped so far, but what have I got to lose? _

With that thought, Greywulf fell upon his bed as well and for the first time since escaping Irenicus, he dreamt; shadows and darkness, the sound of screams and flashes of magic echoing in his troubled nightmares.


	8. Part 1: Blood Money

_Author's updated note: Hey, thanks for all of you have been pointing out the little errors and typos I keep missing. All chapters have just been updated and should**(should)** be error free. Also just found out how to enable Anonymous reviewing. Whoops. Enjoy, and keep reading/reviewing! _

The sun began to set on the Amnish city of Athkatla, sending a glare through the small inn room that Greywulf still slept in. The obnoxious shine woke the sorcerer, the man feeling a sudden urge to pull the worn blankets back over his head in a attempt to forget the recent tragedies he and his friends had undergone. Still, trying to forget his problems in either drink or sleep would be of little use and so he finally vaulted out of bed, rubbing his eyes.

He slowly got to his feet and turned to see Jaheira sitting by the window, spear in hand and armor donned already. She seemed to take no notice of Greywulf's awakening, but merely stared out the window, into the slowly darkening city outside. Greywulf took a few seconds to watch her, then turned to his pile of equipment, arming and preparing himself for travel in a few minutes.

"I see you are awake." Jaheira spoke, never turning to look at him.

"Yes... did you sleep well?" asked Greywulf, walking to her side.

Jaheira did not answer the question, only turned finally and said without emotion, "So, where to now, oh fearless leader?"

Not really surprised at the curtness with which she spoke, Greywulf dropped his previous question and replied, "I'm not sure. I suppose we should head to the Copper Coronet to contact the Shadow Thieves, if it's really them. But if you think it is wise, we could avoid them altogether and explore our surroundings... try to find some information about Imoen's whereabouts on our own. I... I don't rightly know, to be honest. Any input-"

Jaheira glared at Greywulf with a roll of the eyes, then cut him off with a tone that dripped sarcasm, "I think it would be wise indeed if you made up your mind about something, Greywulf, if you are truly our leader. And do it quickly, we cannot afford to waver in our decisions. Every moment we spend deciding is another that Irenicus gets further away from us."

Greywulf nodded with a faint sigh, though as they both walked toward the door, Jaheira tossed behind her roughly, "And don't ever say 'don't rightly know' again. It makes you sound as though you were dropped on your head as a child. Or kicked."

Greywulf's eyes narrowed, the edge of her voice and tone of her voice finally getting to him... Greywulf slammed his staff down, getting the druid to turn with an eyebrow arched. "All right Jaheira... go ahead. Get it out. Let's do it, right now, before you talk to any of the others and make them take this kind of abuse too."

"What are you blathering about now?" she frowned with exasperation.

"This anger, this hatred you have in you." he growled angrily. "You're going to take it out on somebody, it might as well be me. So go ahead; yell, scream, insult, do whatever it is that you think will make it better!"

"Perhaps I would not be so prone to insulting you if you did not give me such easy material to work with!" she spat back. "If you act like a fool I will not hesitate to point it out, Greywulf, you can be certain of that!"

"The only one acting like a fool around here is you, Jaheira!" he challenged coldly with arms folded. "You're not letting us help you, not letting us give you any kind of comfort... and we're all suffering because of your stubbornness!"

"Suffering!" she hissed. "You know nothing of suffering! You have no idea how I feel, the pain I endure as we speak! Do not seek to challenge me in who has lost the most here, Greywulf, I swear you will lose more than just the argument!"

"The way _you_ feel? The suffering _you've_ endured? We've all lost someone here, Jaheira, we're all hurting! What about Minsc!" Greywulf gestured towards the door. "Will you belittle all that he has dealt with as well, ignore Dynaheir's death just because you cannot see past yourself? Why not go outside right now and tell Minsc he's a failure to his face and be done with it!"

"You would dare-"

"I would, because what you're doing is just the same." he cut her off. "Now are you ready to stop acting like a child, to start behaving like we need you to, like I need you to?"

"And why do you need me?" she shouted. "I have taught you enough... can you not leave me to my grief!"

"No, Jaheira, I can't." he pressed, trying desperately to calm his own tone before their argument came to more than just shouting. He took her by the shoulders, locking gazes with her. "Look, we're still a group, we're still family... but that's all hanging by a thread right now. We're so close to falling apart, for all of this to be for naught... I can't do this on my own, ok? I need your help, Jaheira. If we're to survive, if Imoen is to survive... I need your wisdom, your strength."

Jaheira's face was still a tableau of anger, but his last words... something had stopped her rage, momentarily at least. Her hostility lessened to a sharp glare as she fixed gazes with him, her mouth working up and down as though trying to find the words. Her voice was a rough and harsh whisper as she spat, "What... then, do you think you need from me, hmm? What words of wisdom do you expect from me, Greywulf? I think you will find me sorely lacking."

Greywulf sighed; perhaps maybe, just_ maybe_ he could help her overcome this path of despair she was walking... "A smile wouldn't hurt, really."

The look of disbelieving anger in her eyes that immmediately flared in her eyes was more than enough to make Greywulf wince; perhaps he was a bit premature in trying some sort of humor. She slapped his hands from her shoulders, the sorcerer reflexively stepping away from her fury.

"Smile?" Jaheira chuckled bitterly at the word. "What have we to smile about, Greywulf? What! Dynaheir is dead, Imoen has been taken, Khalid is- Khalid is gone! Gone! You cannot understand! How could you! He is dead, and there is nothing I can do about it! My heart aches for his voice, for his touch… and I cannot reach him. His murderer is beyond my grasp and so I cannot avenge him. And you… you ask me to smile? Not all of us can console ourselves with idiotic jokes or by being so stupid as to talk to a hamster!"

The entire room shook as she slammed the door behind her, Greywulf lunging forward to catch a candle that threatened to fall from the table beside him. He had hoped that their argument might turn out for the better... but it was going to be a rough couple of days if this continued. It was hard enough to lead the group when everyone was in agreement and on good terms with each other; but to endure her insults directed towards him and Minsc, he wasn't sure how he could handle this.

He ran one hand through his still tussled brown hair, willing the red that still tinged the edges of his vision to leave, for himself to calm down...on the one hand, he knew she was merely expressing the grief and anger she was storing up inside, refusing to let go of. On the other hand, arguing and yelling at each other for days, enduring the berating and arguing that was sure to come, none of it would make anything easier. He shook his head and prepared to leave, when he heard another knock on the door. He shrugged, already emotionally exhausted. _I've only been awake for five minutes. This will be a long day._ He sat on the bed, calling out with a despondent sigh, "Come in."

The door swung open to reveal Minsc, the big man giving Greywulf a grave nod as he approached the much smaller sorcerer. "Good evening, Minsc. I don't suppose _you_ slept well?"

"Minsc and Boo did not. We had dreams of Dynaheir… she came to us and charged us with bringing vengeance for her." Minsc recited as he sat down next to Greywulf, the bed sagging with the weight. "I very much desire this, yes indeed… but I need your help to understand something, Greywulf."

"Of course… what is it?" Greywulf asked with a frown.

"Minsc was supposed to protect Dynaheir… I swore to keep her safe and fight for her… to die for her. I would have given my life to save Dynaheir, but now Dynaheir is dead and I am alive… Why?"

Minsc turned to face Greywulf, a look of pained confusion in the big ranger's face, his mind trying to understand his self-imposed trial. "Why am I alive when she is gone? Why am I not dead with her, or why is she not alive while I am gone? That is how it should be, yes? That is what Minsc swore, yes?"

Greywulf's heart throbbed with pain as he met Minsc's confused and hurting gaze. Minsc was never the smartest member of the group, that much had always been clear and accepted… but his childlike view towards things of the world, his simple view of what was right and wrong was the unwavering moral compass of the group. He just could not fathom why or how he could have survived… and Dynaheir had not.

"Minsc, my friend…" Greywulf said as he embraced him, feeling the tears begin to well in his own eyes, "We don't always understand why things happen. We don't understand the hurt and the pain life gives us… we can't understand. All we can do is hang on to the hope that one day we will; that we will see a new day, a day when all will be made right. That's all we can ever do… I know it's not much, but it's all we've got sometimes."

"It is enough." Minsc answered, releasing Greywulf with a sad smile. "Minsc and Boo understand, and thank you as well. We will tell Dynaheir what you said when we see her next."

The ranger got up from his spot and lumbered over to the door, finding Yoshimo standing by, though his face gave no expression of how long he had been there or what he had been listening to. He merely nodded to both of them and said, "Jaheira is waiting for us downstairs; she looked as if she wanted us to hurry, so I decided it would be in our best interests to let you know."

"Right." Greywulf muttered softly, descending the stairs to the main room of the inn with the others. Jaheira did not speak to greet them, but merely followed as they quietly and swiftly exited the inn, entering the cold darkness of the night. Slipping through the darkness, avoiding notice by many if not all people, the companions finally reached a seedy-looking building with an old, faded sign with a coin on the front reading, _The Copper Coronet_.

"This is where the boy said he would meet us. Where is he?" Jaheira demanded.

"I suppose he might be doing something else. I mean, it seems kind of silly to think he'd be here for hours, just waiting for us to show up when there's no real guarantee we'd come." Greywulf pointed out.

"Perhaps not so ridiculous, if the Shadow Thieves are involved." Yoshimo countered. "I doubt he would dare leave this place if he's truly a contact for them. You will learn much of these Shadow Thieves by the time this is all over, I think. Ah, I believe he's just spotted us."

Even as Yoshimo spoke, the small boy ran out from behind a barrel in front of the building.

"Looks like you guys made it." Brus said with a dirty-faced smile. "Follow me."

"We're going somewhere else now?" Minsc asked with obvious annoyance. "Boo's stomach will get upset with so much running and movement."

Ignoring Minsc's comments, the group followed the little boy, almost losing him twice in the dark alleyways, but finally reaching a small house with one light flickering from a grimy window.

"My uncle's waiting for you inside." Brus said, already beginning to run off.

"Wait! I don't even know who your uncle is, or what he wants!" Greywulf shouted, but the words fell upon deaf ears, the boy disappearing into the night.

Greywulf cursed, and then looked up at the house before them. _A really **really** long day._ "All right, let's go. This better be good, or someone's getting a fireball in the ass, magic regulations or no."

As Greywulf entered the house, his friends following close behind, a voice from the center of the room said, "Coo! So you finally made it. I was wondering if that dratted nephew of mine hadn't forgotten to give you the message."

A young man sat in a chair by a table, a single candle providing light. The man had features some would call handsome, but a glint in his eyes suggested something darker, yet not sinister. The room was very simple, bare walls with naught even a fireplace. Except for the chair the man sat upon and the table he sat by, the only thing of interest was a flight of stairs with a trapdoor at the top.

"So, now that you've drawn me into your little trap, what is it you want?" Greywulf said through gritted teeth, losing patience with each passing moment.

"You could also answer some basic questions, like who the hell you are." Jaheira spat, equally impatient... though whether her anger was due to Greywulf's close proximity or to this meeting, it was hard to tell.

Seemingly unfazed by the anger in Greywulf and Jaheira's voices, he instead stood and bowed low, saying apologetically, "Well bless me if I haven't gone and forgotten my manners! For the lady's question, I be Gaelan Bayle. And as you seemed to be wondering, I have no interest in setting up a trap. It be far more profitable for me to serve. And for Mr. Greywulf's question over here, this meeting concerns the friend you appear to have lost, Imoen, correct? Lovely looking girl."

"How do you know of us, Shadow Thief?" Greywulf queried, assuming Yoshimo's description was accurate.

"I see your friend Yoshimo has informed you of my said profession, although I'm surprised you had to have him tell you that's what I was."

Visibly shaken, Greywulf cried, "That's enough! How do you know all this stuff about us? Have you been following us?"

"Oh, not me... even if I could probably manage it for a few days without you seeing me... I have had men watching you and reporting your every movement and conversation since you escaped Irenicus' dungeon. So yes, I'm quite aware of your current situation."

"First of all, I don't really appreciate being spied on," Greywulf snapped, pointing his staff at the infuriatingly calm Gaelan, "And secondly you still haven't answered why you called us here."

"Well there's no need for threats." Gaelan said, slowly backing up. "All ye really had to do was ask. We Shadow Thieves have a pretty good idea about everything that goes on in this city, as you might well have guessed. We know what happened to your friend Imoen, as well as our mutual enemy, Irenicus. With certain new... developments, taking place right now, it would be in our and apparently your best interests to make sure Irenicus doesn't resurface."

Cutting him off, Yoshimo said, "So what you're saying is you want us to be your private assassins, killing Irenicus without any risk to you, under the pretense that you'll help us get Imoen back, correct?"

"You're not telling us everything." Greywulf spoke, looking at the man. "These 'new developments', the fact that you need our help when you have an army of assassins at your disposal, none of this adds up."

"Well, you haven't heard the rest of my proposal. Perhaps you might change your mind afterwards?" Gaelan said with a shrug.

After waiting for their silence, Gaelan continued, saying, "Anyway, here's what my bosses have proposed. We'll help you find Irenicus and Imoen, giving you the chance to not only free your friend, but take your vengeance on the one who imprisoned you."

"Not to mention eliminating your enemy at the same time." Yoshimo said cautiously.

"Well that's an added bonus, but yes. And finally, it's not going to be easy. Combatting the Cowled Wizards is no easy task, and it'll take a lot of favors and resources to pull this off. Thanks to those developments I referred to earlier, we don't have those resources. So you'll have to pull a little weight here, too."

"I knew there was some catch. The Shadow Thieves never do anything for free." Yoshimo said to Greywulf.

"What would be the profit in that?" asked Gaelan with a smile. "Leastways, we figure that to get you into a position to help your friend out, it'll cost you about 10,000 gold pieces. And since we're helping you get Irenicus as well, it'll make a total of 20,000 gold to do this."

Shock coursed through the faces of the adventurers, the enormous sum echoing through their minds.

"20,000 gold! That's insane! How are we supposed to raise that kind of money?" Greywulf shouted.

"Considering we're helping you achieve two objectives at the same time, and all you have to do is provide the money, I'd say this is a pretty fair price. You've spent that much and more before, you'll have no problem getting the money you need. Unless your friend isn't worth the money, because if that's the case…"

"She's worth it." Greywulf snarled, his voice a threatening whisper. "We don't abandon our friends, unlike you, who I'm sure has absolutely no honor."

Gaelan seemed slightly miffed at the accusation, but quickly recovered and smiled. "You think about it, you'll see this is the way to go. Even if you don't agree now, I'll still be waiting here for when you return with the money. I suppose you can try to find Imoen on your own, but I sincerely doubt you'll find her, much less get through the Cowled Wizards' defenses. We're really your only hope right now."

As Greywulf clenched his fists and stared at Gaelan, calculating what he had just heard, Yoshimo whispered, "As much as I hate to admit it, he's right. There's no other way to find them, and even though 20,000 is a lot, it's our only chance for now."

Exhaling loudly, Greywulf finally spoke to Gaelan, "All right. You've made your point. We'll get you that money. But when we do, you'd better come through on your part."

Greywulf leaned close to the Shadow Thief before him, a look of uncertainty finally breaking through Bayle's calm exterior. "Because if you don't, I'll make it my personal business to ensure that you wish you'd never been born... got me?"

Gaelan coughed and nodded, backing away from the stony faced man, trying to regain his former confidence quickly. "Er... of course. Now that we've gotten this over with, I have some good news for you. Brus should be waiting for you outside, with some directions for you and advice on where to get work in this town. I imagine a group of scrappers like yourselves shouldn't find it too hard to make yourselves some money around here."

Greywulf silently turned around and walked out of the house, cloak billowing behind him, exiting into the darkness again, his friends close behind him. As they left the house, Brus ran up to them once again and said, "So I guess Uncle Gaelan filled you in, huh?"

After receiving a affirmatory nod from Greywulf, Brus smiled and then looked at the group carefully.

"Well, to me you look like a good group of fighters. I bet you've all seen your share of battles. Well I know there's a couple of people hiring mercenaries down at the Copper Coronet, so I guess I'll take you back there. Follow me!"

As Brus ran into the alleys again, the group of four following, Minsc whispered to Greywulf, "Do you trust this Gaelan fellow, Greywulf? Boo told me to be wary of him, and that his words are not all they seem. As you know, Boo always has sage advice."

"I don't trust him either." Greywulf responded, slightly more relaxed now that the talk with Gaelan was concluded. "He's still hiding something. I'm pretty sure it has to do with these 'other developments' he keeps mentioning. But I don't really sense any malice in him either. Whatever it is he's hiding, I don't think it's meant to hurt us."

"If you say so, Greywulf." Yoshimo said grimly. "I would not trust anything these Thieves give or offer us. For all we know they're in league with Irenicus again. We still don't know why they would work for him to begin with and then turn on him all of a sudden. Why did you not ask?"

"Somethings are best left unasked until later." Greywulf replied. "We both know the connection they have to our capture... no sense in bringing it up unless we can get some information out of it. For that we need some sort of leverage... and any way you look at it, 20,000 gold is a lot of leverage. But then again, who knows? For all I know we could be dead by tomorrow morning, victims of a savage epidemic of Neverwinter hay fever."

Not getting the joke, Minsc said with a worried look, "I hope not. While I could stand against evil without fear, sneezing or no, hamsters are not nearly so resistant to such illnesses. If we do come in contact with hay fever, Boo could easily get infected."

Shaking his head, Greywulf merely quickened his pace to stay with Brus, continuing through the alleys of Athkatla, his companions close behind.

* * *

Imoen winced, trying to clear her eyes and thoughts as the light of the magical portal faded, revealing her new surroundings. She found herself inside a magical shield, trapping her from moving more than a foot any direction. Through the shimmering energy, she was able to make out a large hall, adorned with many magical symbols, the most prominent of them being that of Mystra. Surrounding her were five Cowled Wizards, along with the ones who had transported back from the battle. Finally, she also saw next to her, similarily trapped, the seemingly unconcerned Irenicus.

One wizard walked up to the pair, examined them for a second with narrowed eyes. He gazed at Imoen, the young thief-mage trying to find the words to speak, but nothing could come. He turned to Irenicus, but as he glared at the wizard... something in his eyes, something in his face, his gaze broke away, Irenicus smirking at the man's fear. He quickly recovered though, and turned to the wizards who had brought the two prisoners. "These are the ones involved in the disturbance at Waukeen's Promenade?"

"Yes sir."

"What is known?" he asked, his gaze still flickering between the grotesque visage of Irenicus and the frightened face of Imoen.

"Naught but their names. The mage is Jon Irenicus. The girl is Imoen."

Imoen, finally finding her voice through the fear, cried out, "Please, I didn't do anything wrong! It was all him, he-"

Cutting her off in mid-sentence, Irenicus said in a tone that suggested both irritation and boredom, "Silence, child. Allow the fool to make his judgement."

The head wizard growled and flashed a palm out at Irenicus, sending a hail of spattering lightning bolts to rain down on the grotesque mage. He grunted with the impact of each blow, though he would not fall, remaining standing even as the spell ended, a look of feral determination and malice crossing Irenicus' face even as his body smoked from the power of the spells. "And you call yourself a wizard? Pathetic."

"Why was this man not gagged? Did he not slay seven of you?" the man who had struck him whirled to the others, looking for someone to lay blame upon.

"We dared not approach." One of the wizards said in a slightly fearful tone.

"Nevertheless, in the end, he came willingly." another wizard mentioned, glancing at Irenicus timidly.

"What should be done with them?"

"It does not matter." The head wizard said with anger. "They are deviants, let them both rot in Spellhold... ensure that the ugly one enjoys his stay thoroughly."

With that, the five who brought them there began another series of incantations, summoning new portals to take them through. As Imoen was again herded into the magical gateway, she glanced over at Irenicus, who, to her surprise, had a barely noticeable smile on his face. Before she could ponder this more, the light flashed before her once again, bringing darkness in its wake.


	9. Part 1: Warrior's Heart

Dark clouds filled with what was most certainly a heavy rainfall, had gathered overhead in the short time they had navigated through the streets, led by the child Brus. The overcast skies were just enough to blot out the moon and stars, leaving them as only the faintest of lights in the heavens. Still, the periodic torches lining the streets along with Brus' expert guidance brought their path to the Copper Coronet's doors fairly quickly and without incident.

"Here's where I get off." he grinned as the small group stopped at the entrance of the inn. "I'm sure you can find plenty of work here. I think my Uncle told me about some girl inside who was trying to hire mercs for some sort of job when he was here last. Sounded pretty desperate, so I bet you could make quite a bit of coin there. Also, I remember him saying something about the circus in the Promenade, but I don't remember exactly what. Either way, good luck to ya!"

He left them swiftly and silently as they entered the building, their eyes slowly adjusting to the new light. A loud clamor filled their ears, an auditory ruckus that grated on the nerves. The whole room was filled with smoke and the movement of patrons, the garbled mess upon all senses enough to drown out almost everything.

"Stay close." Yoshimo tossed behind him as he led the way, almost shouting to be heard over the noise. "This particular inn may be friendlier than the one we stayed in before, but its inhabitants are a little seedier."

"Oh really." Greywulf called back as he watched a pair of drunks mug another patron.

Still, the sight of their weapons coupled with Minsc's rather intimidating size was enough to get them to the main bar fairly quickly without trouble. It was tended by a fairly big man, a tired look on his face as he washed the bar counter repeatedly, despite the fact that the stains on it looked as though no amount of washing or perhaps even magic would get them out. Leaning off to the side with a girl wrapped in his arms and around his shoulders was another man; he was rather muscular in appearance, though his face held an unsavory look, as though everything he saw displeased him and put a permanent look of disgust on his face. Still, he managed an ugly grin as he saw the four of them near the bar, pushing the girl away from him while he stepped forward to eye them.

"You must be strangers in town... " the man said, his voice as unpleasant as his appearance. "My name is Lehtinan. Proprietor of the Copper Coronet, if you will. Welcome..."

"Greywulf." the sorcerer managed a tight smile in return, shaking the man's hand.

"If you need anything to drink or perhaps purchase something from our selection of armor and weapons, talk to Bernard." Lehtinan gestured to the bartender. "Please, feel free to enjoy yourseves..."

"Thanks. But we're actually looking for some work. We heard there were people around here who needed to hire mercenaries, but we didn't see any."

"Oh, you must be speaking of Nalia." Lehtinan said with a disgusted tone. "She's been begging for help around here for days now, and even drove off some good customers to do her work, who, might I add, haven't come back yet."

"Your concern for her plight is touching." Jaheira said dryly, obviously disgusted with the man.

"Do you know here she is?" asked Greywulf.

"She's usually around here somewhere, but I think she left with the last group of fools stupid enough to offer her help. I imagine she'll be back soon enough."

"Do you know of any other work around here?" asked Greywulf.

"Nothing about work, but I have something else that might interest you." Lehtinan said with a wicked smile. "If you're looking for a good time, just tell the guy at the door over there that I said you could go through. You'll figure it out from there. There is... eh, more to this place than meets the eye."

"Of course there is." Yoshimo shrugged as they strode away from the man who had already returned to the arms of the girl he had been with. "Isn't there always?"

Before they could get more than a few feet away from Lehtinan, a group of three men bumped into them, cursing wildly as they did. One of them stopped as he noticed Minsc, then grinned a gap-toothed smile. "Oy, ye must be the ones bringing the replacement slave for the pits, right? Why'd Lehtinan tell ya to bring him up through the bar? Show him around to the drunks first? Either way, bring him around back with us, and Lehtinan'll get ya paid-"

"Did you just call Minsc a slave?" Greywulf asked icily, grabbing the man by the arm and whipping him back around to face him.

"Eh, get your hands off me, slaver!" the man snarled, pulling away. "Ye may be supplying these meatbags, but you've got no-"

"Amalas!" Lehtinan's raspy and cracking voice broke through, the owner storming over to the men opposing Greywulf and his friends. "What are you doing?!"

"We're just trying take this meatbag back to the cages, but your contacts are trying to start some trouble!" he spat, glaring at Greywulf and Minsc, the big ranger's eyes flaring with anger as they spoke.

"You insult Greywulf and you insult Minsc! There will be liberal butt-kicking now!" his sword began to unsheathe rapidly, swinging towards the surprised trio's heads before a combination of Yoshimo and Greywulf stopped him, Lehtinan forcing a smile as he turned to them, hoping to avoid Minsc's wrath as well.

"Excuse my employees..." he hissed, "They have simply made a mistake in the identity of your companion, that's all. Please, do not let it bother you; go ahead and partake in the various entertainments the Copper Coronet has to offer."

He whispered harshly and angrily at the three men whom he dragged away, his face contorting in anger as Minsc slowly calmed down, sheathing the Sword of Chaos once more.

"A thoroughly despicable man." Jaheira muttered, glaring at Lehtinan's retreating form. "A slaving operation... hidden within the very walls of this tavern."

"That would explain the massive numbers of guards and bouncers... though I would not be surprised to find more secrets in this inn." Yoshimo whispered. "Since I assume we're going to meddle, what do you suggest?"

"While we wait for this Nalia to get back, we check out that door… and make sure our weapons are ready."

The secured door entered a long hallway, the bouncer letting them pass after an affirmative nod from Lehtinan. Many doors lined either wall, with one large door at the end, a No Access sign upon it. Moving to one of the side doors at random, Greywulf slowly looking inside. There lay numerous pillows where a small group of men and women lay, each smoking a long pipe. Their faces were grayish, and from the looks upon their faces, they were obviously not aware of much.

"So, the rest of the secrets are revealed." Yoshimo grimaced as he picked up a small handful of leaf from a bowl off to the side. "Looks like regular pipeweed, but… ah, I understand."

"What's that?" asked Minsc.

"It is an old scheme I have seen many times. Pipeweed smoking is harmless on it's own, and a favorite pastime of many. I lost my favorite pipe when I found myself in Irenicus' dungeon, but that is beside the point. Lehtinan supplies the perfectly legal 'pipeweed', but slips a few powders and extra leaves into the weed, a derivative of black lotus if at all possible. The combinations and mixtures induce some rather… abnormal, visions when smoked. It also has the effect of making you susceptible to almost anything that someone asks you to do. Finally, after about four or five pipes of the stuff, it kills you. He cheats the users out of all their money while they're still under the influence. Finally it kills them quickly, eliminating any future problems with them for Lehtinan."

"You know much of this. The voice of experience?" Jaheira asked with a frown, but Yoshimo just shrugged, not answering her.

"We could inform the city guards about this." Greywulf suggested, but he was cut off by Yoshimo. "No. Guards can be bribed, but if we can find some evidence to bring to city officials, we might have a better chance. Not by much, considering they're probably in Lehtinan's pocket too, but it's our best shot."

Nodding, Greywulf gestured toward the door at the end of the hallway, saying, "Lotus can be covered up fairly easily, but slavery? Not a chance. Let's get moving... who knows, we might even make some money to rescue Imoen."

* * *

The feverish man shivered once more, the sweat beads on his face dripping and pouring from him as his condition continued to worsen. The big man kneeling over him muttered a few words of comfort in his native tongue, but it was doubtful if the dying man had heard any of them. Hendak wiped the sweaty blonde strands of hair from his vision, tucking them behind his shoulder. He straightened up, exhaling with a worsening sense of despair. He tried to keep the other slaves here safe, organized... but he could only watch and pray when the others were sent into the fighting pits without him. This man was the last survivor of a ten on two battle in the gladiatorial pits... ten poorly armed, malnutritioned men against two bloodthirsty trolls. No fire, no acid, nothing to make the trolls stay down permanently. It had been a slaughter... he could only listen as he heard his men scream and die, all for the amusement of those...

Hendak slammed one hand against the cell wall he was in, the other two men in the cell glancing up at him, knowing the aggravation and responsibility Hendak bore. He had survived in this hellhole for over ten years, refusing to die even though he had been sent into the pits time and time again... Lehtinan was trying to get rid of him, he had been ever since Hendak had publicly called him out, cursed his name and challenged him before all the onlookers after defeating a slew of beasts in the pit. Lehtinan had never taken him up on the challenge, but from the increasingly difficult challenges thrown at him, he was fairly certain Lehtinan had not been very forgiving. Despite all this, his prowess in battle had kept him going, kept him fighting and surviving. Each battle only hardened his resolve, his will to push on... his desire for vengeance. His eyes narrowed as he remembered the day he had been taken.

Tracking through the northern wastes, his dual swords in hand as he led his small band of warriors against the push of the marauding orcs that constantly threatened their borders... only that day it had not just been orcs. The slavers had waited until they were exhausted from their travels, just ready to pitch camp... then they struck. Their superior numbers would have made no difference, Hendak was a warrior born and would have fought to the death, but their mages took him, collapsed his will and body with their wizardry and led to... this. A cesspool of despair and torture, every day as long as an eternity, every day a span of life that he could never get back, that he could never reclaim for his own.

Still, as long as he drew breath it was not over. He had survived this long, and he would survive another ten years if need be. Lehtinan would feel his vengeance, someday... the man lying behind him groaned again, drawing Hendak back to the present. _Someday..._ he thought with a heavy sigh, kneeling beside his fellow warrior as he slowly roused the wounded gladiator. "H-hendak?"

"Yes, it is I. Do not move... you are severely injured and the wounds have taken their toll on you. You have a strong fever... the priests could be coming soon to help you."

"Do not try to soften my passing with lies, Hendak." the man coughed angrily. "We are no more than cattle for these slavers... they would not waste the money for our healing. It is not fitting for me to cling to such false hope... and not for you to make up such lies to comfort a dying warrior."

Hendak shook his head. "Perhaps not, Branik. I heard the guard talking of your battle... you fought well, putting one troll down twice before it hit you on its third rise."

"Aye... I was the only one left by that time. Couldn't focus on keeping the first troll down without the others... the second one nearly blindsided me. Wish you'd have been there Hendak... we'd have slaughtered them together. It was a fine battle, even if it was against trolls. I prefer orcs..." he muttered, trying not to cough as he spoke. "Never have to kill them two and three times."

"They smell better too." Hendak said with a faint smile, the dying man's chuckles broken off by a sudden fit of coughing and wheezing, his skin quickly turning ashen.

"Hendak?" he whispered. "Please... where... where is my sword? Have they taken that from me as well in my final hours?"

Hendak looked around their cell, already knowing the futility of the search. There would be no blade for the man to hold onto in his final hours, no weapon to accompany him into the afterlife as a true warrior should bear. The man did not speak again, but his head dropped before Hendak could answer him again, his life already gone. Hendak bowed his head, lifting up a silent prayer for him in his northern tongue...

"Hey, what're you doing back here? Get out before I have to get rough!"

The loud and hateful voice of the guard echoed through the chamber, bringing Hendak to full alert. It was not a tone he had heard from the man who guarded their cells except when trying to bully the slaves... he was at the far end of the room near the door, and despite the faint light that crept in through the open doorway, he could not see just what or who stood over there.

"Actually, Lehtinan said we could come back here; no need for getting upset-"

"He meant that hallway back there! Now get out!"

Hendak could barely see the glint of the guard's sword being waved in the air, intimidation, not truly in attacking position yet. If these unknown visitors were of any good intent, now was most definitely the time to act- "All right, just hold on…"

Hendak could not suppress the spark of hope that ignited inside him as he saw the blur of a quarterstaff in the air, the sword in the guard's hands flying across the room to land beside Hendak's cage. He knelt down and grasped at the handle even as he continued to watch and listen, the sound of the crack of wood against a man's ribs easily heard from such a distance. Another blade was drawn and visible, cutting down quickly and silencing the guard for good. Still, either by fear of more opposition or by uncertainty of what the darkness held, he did not see the figures in the doorway continuing further into the room. This might be his only chance, he could not let it go to waste...

"Psstt! You are obviously not aligned with Lehtinan or his men. Please, help us!"

Greywulf made a quick incantation, lighting a magical flame above their group to illuminate the room. The flickering light revealed a long row of cells along the back wall, worn and battered figures lying in captivity. Still, at the center cell stood one man who looked quite a bit broader than the others; he was gripping the cell bars and standing up against them with a sword in hand. His blue eyes glimmered in the low lighting though his frame was well muscled, a picture of the penultimate warrior.

"Who are you?" Greywulf asked, drawing close along with the others but not within the man's sword reach.

"My name is Hendak." the man answered, his thickly accented voice echoing in the desolate chamber. "Please, you must aid us. We are all good men here, but the monster who owns us has turned us into gladiators, fighting and dying for the amusement of these drunks! I myself was once a proud warrior from the north, but I was captured and sold as a slave... it is I who have kept the others organized and alive, I who have resisted and fought against the predations of Lehtinan these long years! Surely you will not abandon us in this place!"

"Slavery and pit fighting... a quick death is too good for this Lehtinan." Jaheira growled.

Turning his attention back to Hendak, Greywulf said, "You are correct, I have no love for Lehtinan or for slavery. I would free you if you could tell me how. Bashing in the cell doors would be far too noisy... by the time we got it opened, the guards would be upon us. We will need the keys; might you know where they are?"

Hendak nodded and responded, "The beast master keeps the cell keys. I can tell you where he is."

Within seconds the four adventurers were off towards the beast cages, fighting to free those they did not even know, those who were total strangers to them... Hendak looked to the ceiling and thanked his gods in silent prayer, then bent down to the body of Branik. Taking his limp grasp and opening his fingers, Hendak put the sword he had taken on his chest, then closed the man's hands around the hilt. He was finally as he should be... a warrior born, a warrior dead. Hendak allowed himself a brief smile as he heard the sounds of battle echo back from the beast master's quarters.

"Hendak... Hendak!" the raspy voice of one of the gladiators a few cells down came to him. "What's going on? Who were those people?"

"They are the ones who will free us, Adul." Hendak replied, flexing his main sword arm. "My vengeance against Lehtinan has been delayed for ten years... I swear he will not see another sunrise."

* * *

The corridor was a flurry of slashing claws and swords, igniting spells and buzzing arrows. Following Hendak's direction, it had been fairly easy to find the halls of the beast master. As expected, he had been quite surprised to see them, though that didn't necessarily mean he was willing to cooperate. Ignoring the one warning and opportunity to surrender offered him, he instead chose to fight, releasing all of the caged creatures with a single lever. With that... all hell had broken loose.

Pushing aside a leaping attack dog, Minsc moved forward to attack the beast master, the battle fury in his eyes more than a little intimidating to the man as he watched Minsc's approach. Intoning his magical words, Greywulf wrought chaos in the minds of the animals, giving the others an easier time of fighting. Minsc swung his large sword at the beast master's neck, intending to end the fight quickly but he was stopped as a leopard pounced upon him, knocking him to the ground, his sword flying from his hands. Wrestling to stay away from the claws of the large cat, Minsc grabbed the leopard by the neck, got behind it in a headlock and broke the cat's neck in one swift movement.

The beast master had not been idle, however. While Minsc had fought off the animal attack, the beast master had grabbed Minsc's sword and charged the ranger. Before he could react, the sword slashed across Minsc's back, cutting deep through the chain mail he wore to drop Minsc to the ground. Seeing Minsc fall, Jaheira's eyes blazed with anger as she thrust her spear into a bear, killing it. She vaulted over the bear and ran directly for the man, holding her spear at the ready. The man saw her coming and deflected her initial attack, trying to counter with the Sword of Chaos, though Jaheira's dodge was perfectly timed. Greywulf and Yoshimo had finished off the rest of the animals in that time, turning immediately to the raging battle between the druid and her foe.

"Yoshimo, see what you can do for Minsc. I'll help Jaheira." Greywulf commanded as the two men ran to join the fray once again. Yoshimo dragged Minsc out of the area of combat while Greywulf began casting spells, slowing the beast master's mind and weakening his body. Finally, Jaheira's spear handle slipped past the sword and cracked upon the man's chin, dazing him. It was followed by a knock to the ground where Jaheira impaled the man, ending the fight mercilessly. Quickly grabbing the cell keys from the man's belt, Jaheira ran over to Minsc along with Greywulf.

"How's he doing?" asked Greywulf, lines of worry running through his face.

"He's in bad shape." Yoshimo responded, glancing down at the heavily bleeding ranger. "Cut right through his armor... though I think it missed his spine. As it is, he won't be too much help if we have to fight the rest of the guards around here."

Jaheira knelt down next to the wounded ranger and began to chant, healing Minsc as much as she could manage. When she finished a number of different chants, she stood up. "I have exhausted all my healing spells upon him, but I believe he will be in a good enough condition to fight now if necessary."

Slowly Minsc began to stir, rising up on one elbow, he rumbled, "Ohh… what has happened? Did the forces of good triumph?"

Smiling, Greywulf helped Minsc to his feet and handed him his sword, saying, "In a fashion, yes. We got the keys, but you took a pretty bad hit. It'll be a bit before you see any more action."

"Nonsense!" bellowed Minsc, raising his sword high. "Minsc and Boo are always ready to stick our thumbs in the eyes of evil, no matter how bad the injury!"

As Minsc said this, he made a grand sweep with his sword, only to double over in pain as he stretched his back muscles. "On second thought," Minsc said, his teeth gritted, "Perhaps Boo can handle this fight without me for the moment. He will have to fight in my stead for the time being. All right, Boo?"

As if in response, the furry hamster jumped out from seemingly nowhere, scurried up his shoulder and landed atop Minsc's bald head and began squeaking excitedly. Minsc grinned and declared, "There! You see, he calls his hamster war cry in anticipation of our next battle. I can feel him wriggling with excitement, all the way down to my innards."

"Are you sure that's not your heart?" asked Yoshimo, arching one eyebrow. "After all, I've seen you get pretty excited in battle…"

"Of course not." retorted Minsc, putting Boo in his large hand. "Boo's excitement is palpable, especially to one who has learned under his hamster guidance for so long."

"I guess this means he's all right." Greywulf sighed, motioning the group to keep moving. When they arrived back in the cell room, Greywulf dashed to the cell Hendak was in and began to check each key in the lock. When the cell was finally open, Hendak rushed out, scarce believing his eyes. "You have it! You have freed us! Kremsher," he called to a man stumbling out of the cell with him, "Take the keys and free the rest of the prisoners! I have a score to settle with Lehtinan."

Walking over to the rack that held all their gladiatorial weapons, Hendak drew two short swords and tested their balance for a half-second, then looked up at his saviors with a grim smile. "I thank you once again, my friends. If you will, come with me and witness the vengeance of Hendak. If not, please help the others escape and equip themselves."

Jaheira and Greywulf nodded, following Hendak while Minsc and Yoshimo helped the others out of their cells, the thought of escape and vengeance giving the prisoners new strength and vitality. Even as Hendak led Greywulf and Jaheira back through the halls toward the main room, a guard patrolling the back hall almost ran into them, reaching for his sword in surprise. "What? The prisoners have escaped!"

He was brought down by a thrust to his chest from Hendak, who grimly wiped his blade off and continued forward. A group of guards rounded the next corner, apparently having heard the dead man's cry. They numbered six, though instead of waiting in a defensive posture like the two adventurers expected, Hendak howled a battle cry and bolted forward, the dual blades he wielded singing as they cut down three of the men as he ran through their miniature blockade. _Minsc would love this guy._ Greywulf thought as he and Jaheira engaged one guard each. Hendak had already killed the last one before the druid and sorcerer were finished with their foes and without another word they kept moving, the gladiator showing no mercy to his former captors and tormentors.

A cry from behind them slowed their assault as Yoshimo, Minsc and the group of freed prisoners, newly armed and equipped rejoined them at last. "All have been freed." Minsc said grandly. "The shackles of evil have been broken by the keys of goodness which-"

Cutting him off, Yoshimo said, "There are still many guards around. What do you suggest?"

Hendak looked at the newly freed men and said with a look that brooked no argument. "Provide a distraction, engage as many as you can... but Lehtinan is _mine._"

Amidst the shouts of surprise and combat echoing from the swarm of prisoners that swept through the different rooms of the Coronet, Jaheira, Greywulf and Hendak slipped down the main hall, quickly finding themselves amidst the bar room again. Two more guards rushed them as they appeared, but Greywulf and Jaheira broke off to battle them both. Parrying a sword slash with his staff, Greywulf shouted to Hendak, "Go! We will hold these here. Lehtinan awaits you... take your freedom at last."

The sorcerer swung his staff back across the man's face, knocked him upward with a blow to the stomach, and finally plunged it straight into the man's chest, throwing him into a table across the room, sending patrons everywhere. _Whoa, there are still people here drinking. In fact, it doesn't look like anyone's left, even with all the fighting going on. I guess some people just can't give up their drink... _

Joining Jaheira in her battle against the guard she fought, they quickly dispatched him as they proceeded to the front bar, passing a seemingly unscathed Bernard, stumbling away from the battle that proceeded atop the bar itself. Hendak and Lehtinan were driving at each other with great skill and dexterity on either part, though from the bodies of two slaves at the ground before them, it would seem Lehtinan had already dispatched those who had sought his death.

Hendak pushed forward with both swords, sending Lehtinan falling from the bar, rolling aside at the last second to avoid Hendak's fierce down swing. Still, the gladiator did not relent. He pressed again and quickly had Lehtinan's back to the wall, Lehtinan's sword hand trapped underneath his own. Hendak raise his free arm, preparing to strike... Lehtinan's other hand flashed upward with a hidden dagger, slicing straight at Hendak's head. Hendak's muscular arm came down in front of it, the wicked dagger piercing his arm instead. Hendak's hand spasmed and his blade dropped, Lehtinan pulling the weapon out with a feral look of hatred.

"I should have killed you long ago, you ignorant, barbaric slave!" Lehtinan grunted as he struggled to push the dagger down against Hendak again, the gladiator's hand closed around his wrist and barely keeping him at bay.

Before Lehtinan could taunt him any further, Hendak popped his wrist to the side, twisting Lehtinan's grip along with it... pointing his own dagger at Lehtinan's neck. The slaver's eyes opened wide as he realized the new threat, but Hendak's grip was like steel as he slowly pushed, driving the tip of the bloodied weapon closer and closer...

"To the Abyss with you, fiend."

With that and a spurt of blood, it was over. Lehtinan slumped to the ground as Hendak tossed the dagger aside, staring down at the corpse of his former tormentor. "It is done. May he burn in the Nine Hells for all eternity, all for a few measly coins in his pocket."

The rest of the guard posed little threat to the number of gladiators freed, that and the efforts of the four adventurers soon had every slaver cleansed from the Copper Coronet, the few who had preferred surrender over death already imprisoned in the former gladiator cells until they could be handed over to the city guard. Hendak sheathed the two swords he carried and approached Greywulf, getting his shoulder wrapped by Jaheira for a sword wound he had taken in the battle.

"There is no way I can thank you... any of you, for what you have done here. You have given new life to those who had none before. I do not even know your names." he confessed, bowing to Greywulf.

"I am Greywulf." he said with a nod. "The big guy with the hamster over there is Minsc, the hamster is Boo. Please don't ask, you'll be sorry. The guy with the katanas there is Yoshimo, and this lovely lady with the healer's hands (ouch! Not so tight,) is Jaheira. Technically she's a druid, not a healer, but she's just as good."

"I am in your debt. I have gathered a sum of money along with some of Lehtinan's best goods and supplies to give to you." Laying the items and pouch of gold at Greywulf's feet, Hendak looked around and said, "I intend to take over management of this place. You will have a substantial discount whenever you are here, of course. The patrons do not seem to mind, and besides, this way I can know that it will never be used for another vile purpose like slavery again."

"A noble purpose, Hendak...what of the others? The other men whom we freed with you?" Greywulf asked.

"Many of them were taken leagues from their homes... like myself." Hendak answered. "Some of them will not let any distance stop them from returning to their homes. Others are merely content to breathe the free air once more. Many of them will stay here and help me run this place. My only wish is that I could somehow repay you for your kindness... something more than mere gold and silver."

"Trust me, Hendak... " Greywulf smiled as Jaheira finally finished the wrapping. "We were only recently captives as well; one of our own still is. You've aided us more than you know... it is with the 'mere gold and silver' you've offered us that we may finally see our companion free again."


	10. Part 1: Waking Dreams

The wooden stairs creaked and groaned with his weight as the weary sorcerer slowly descended to the main room of the bar of the Copper Coronet, any other patrons either drunk and unconscious or in bed at such a late hour. For Greywulf, sleep had not come easily, as what rest he had got was plagued with the haunted cries of Imoen's voice, calling for his aid amidst the mocking laughter and visage of Irenicus. He knew it would be in his best interests to go back to his room, to try and get some more sleep; they already agreed to aid Hendak in another job first thing in the morning... but no. He had gotten maybe three hours of rest and it would have to be enough; for the moment he would find no more, despite their decision to have the group stay here for the night.

The lights spun by the torches lining the stair down threw his shadow across the wall, dancing and flickering with the crackling embers of the torches. He barely noticed as he finally reached the bottom, moving over to one of the chairs by the bar, tucking his gray cloak up behind him as he sat. He ran one hand down his face, the weariness so far built up within not dispelled by the few hours of sleep he had acquired.

Thoughts of Imoen flashed through his head, and he could not help but wipe a few tears from his eyes as he sat alone in the dark. He would have done most anything to hear one more of her jokes, to listen to her girlish laughter as she told a funny story or pulled some sort of practical joke on him… he had always taken her presence for granted as his stalwart friend and companion, one who would never leave him, whose companionship he could always count on. Never again would he take that for granted, he swore. When he found her again, he would make sure she knew just how much he valued her, how much he really cared for her as his sister, blood or no.

He was so distracted by sorrow and weariness that he barely heard the sound of the same stairs he had so recently descended creaking again, the big form that came down unmistakable. Greywulf waved faintly at Minsc as he shuffled down as well. The ranger returned the wave and lumbered over to the bar aside Greywulf, smiling weakly as Minsc sat down on a stool beside him.

"Hi."

"What are you doing awake, Greywulf?" Minsc queried. "Even Boo is asleep now… see how he snores? You should be in bed too."

"I should indeed." Greywulf conceded, but he made no effort or attempt to move. "And what of you, Minsc? I know your back must still be aching... why aren't you in bed?"

"I cannot sleep still. I miss… I miss Dynaheir."

"Me too, Minsc. It feels strange… odd for us to be here without Dynaheir, Imoen, Khalid. It isn't right… not right at all."

"She helped us find our way, told us where to go." Minsc said thoughtfully. "We followed, and she led… a mighty pair we made."

"Indeed you did." Greywulf nodded. "She had a skill in magic few could equal… combined with your bravery and prowess in battle, I'm surprised you two ever got separated in the first place."

Minsc nodded with a faint smile creeping onto his face, remembering the battle with the gnolls…

X X X X X X

Minsc gritted his teeth as the two handed sword he carried swung downward, hewing the gnoll he faced in two with its dulled yet still effective edge. The sword was the same one he had carried since they left Rashemen, and though many opportunities had arisen to purchase or scavenge a new and equally good sword, Minsc was proud and rather attached to the blade; many enemies had fallen to it, though just as many had fallen to his witch's magic through their travels.

He backed up a few steps to make certain he stayed close to Dynaheir, his eyes narrowing as he scanned the field of battle for the most imminent threat. He knew Dynaheir would be doing the same, also looking for any escape plans, one which they desperately needed despite Minsc's inner vehemence that no retreat was necessary. Sixty gnolls had ambushed them in a small pass, thirty on either side. They had been warned that a gnoll stronghold was nearby, though Minsc had been certain that no harm would befall them. Dynaheir had reluctantly given into his arguments and they had taken the pass that was just a bit too close for her comfort. It had turned out badly and here they were, fighting against odds that were far out of their favor. They had been forced to back into a dead end concave section of the canyon, barely angular enough to be called concave... but enough so that Minsc could face all their enemies within his field of vision, rather than some at his back and some at his front. It also allowed him to keep Dynaheir protected better, his primary task.

Despite all this, Minsc had to suppress a grin as he blinked a drop of sweat that threatened to run from his glistening bald head into his eye. More than twenty of the original sixty attackers had fallen to either magic or blade, and he could hear Dynaheir's voice shout out the incantations to another spell, igniting several magic missiles at once. The small bullets of energy tore through the body of another gnoll, dropping it before it could draw any closer to its prey. Victory would be theirs, Minsc was certain. It would be an awesome tale when they returned to Rashemen; a foe of greater size and number, taken by surprise without preparation and yet still victorious-

"Minsc! I need aid!"

The sound of his charge's cry for help was more than enough to pull Minsc back to the present, his head whirling to spy two gnolls menacing Dynaheir, having bolted through his one man circle of protection for her. She had drawn her dagger and stared the approaching beasts down fearlessly, but their halberds would easily break through such a defense.

He quickly proved why he was more of a berserker ranger than not, his war cry echoing through the canyon walls of the small pass they fought in as he covered the distance between them in the blink of an eye. His massive bulk slammed into one of the gnolls and knocked it aside before the second one had even realized he was there. It managed to pull up its weapon to block in the nick of time, but the force of Minsc's swing cut the shaft of the halberd in twain, leaving the gnoll to gape at the broken weapon helplessly. It never saw the backswing come to behead it, even as Dynaheir spoke more words of magic to engulf the second gnoll, just now rising to its feet again within swirling serpents of flame. Even as it howled, writhing to put out the flame that seared its flesh, Minsc had already turned his attention back to the other monsters that still encircled their prey, unwilling to challenge Minsc directly after the casualties they had endured. The gnolls were instead content to make small half-rushes instead, testing his reflexes before truly attacking.

Minsc could feel the blood rushing to his head, the red beginning to blur the edges of his vision, but he forcibly pushed it away. As much as he loved to indulge his berserker rages, especially when there was an abundance of evil butts to kick, Dynaheir cautioned him about the consequences, tiring himself and possibly hurting those he did not intend to. Unwilling to expose Dynaheir to harm, Minsc did the best he could to follow her directions, though it was indeed a struggle for him. A squeak sounded over the tones of battle, and Minsc glanced down momentarily to ensure himself of Boo's safety. Seeing the tiny face stare up at him from his belt pouch, his eyes widened, listening to what he had heard the hamster say. He turned again, not heeding the attackers before him, instead shouting a warning to Dynaheir- but too late.

The gnoll Dynaheir had set aflame and both of them had left for dead had managed to put the fire out and had used the lack of attention to sneak behind Dynaheir, grabbing her by the mouth and waist, preventing her from speaking any incantations. She flailed within the larger beast's grasp, but the battle and anger driven strength of the gnoll carrying her was enough to subdue her attempts at escape. As he watched his charge manhandled and pulled away, Minsc felt the rage rise within again; this time he did not resist it's pull. The strength, speed, and fury provided by the berserker rage would have been more than enough to dispatch the gnoll holding Dynaheir, and probably grant them victory as well before it wore off… if Minsc had been given the time to make use of it.

The gnolls he had ignored to turn back and see to Dynaheir had taken that opprtunity to charge; they had reached him in those short seconds. With the slam of a halberd shaft across the back of the head, Minsc felt the rage and strength within begin to fade, replacing itself with a cool bliss as unconsciousness claimed him. He heard one last cry from Dynaheir, calling his name... and then everything was black.

X X X X X X X

"Of course we were reunited within days," Minsc remarked as he swung his arms with an imaginary sword, thinking back as his motions sent him into a slow spin on the bar stool. "You and Imoen and Khalid and Jaheira came to my aid soon in Nashkel, the place I discovered what true heroes you were, willing to help a man and hamster in need! We freed Dynaheir, fought off the attacks of the evil Red Wizard Edwin and became the group of butt kicking and vengeance the bards sing of even now!"

"Indeed, Minsc." Greywulf smiled, remembering the day he had met Minsc. Greywulf had always prided himself on being a good head above most people he knew. When he had run into Minsc, it was an unusual feeling for him to crane his head up to meet the eager gaze of the ranger, looking for somebody to help him save Dynaheir. Still, despite the warnings by Jaheira of possible insanity after Minsc had introduced them to Boo and mentioned his head wound, Greywulf had decided it would be better to have such a massive warrior on their side than not; an extra mage couldn't hurt either. Soon they were indeed the 'group of butt kicking and vengeance the bards sing of even now' that Minsc so eloquently put, six travelers unwilling to yield despite the odds.

"What now, Minsc? Do you feel any better?" Greywulf asked, noticing the smile of jolliness that had been missing from the ranger ever since Dynaheir had died.

Minsc frowned as he mulled the words over in his head, then gradually smiled again, turning to Greywulf and nodding slowly. "I… think so. Yes, yes indeed! We still miss Dynaheir, but mighty hamster retribution has been promised, and when it is delivered, hamsters and rangers everywhere will rejoice! Dynaheir would not have us mope and meander like an ice buffalo (though I have the greatest respect for the noble ice buffalo), she would have us seek and wreak death to our enemies! I think I have found my… er… my purpose once more, yes?"

"That's the expression, Minsc." Greywulf chuckled. "I'm glad you're feeling better. Why don't you try getting some more sleep now? Your slumber might come a bit easier."

"By no measure of goodness could I do such a thing!" Minsc exclaimed, stopping the circular rotation he had been doing since beginning the tale of his fight. "Minsc was down here because he felt bad about Dynaheir; you are down here because you feel bad about Imoen! I told a grand tale of butt kicking with Dynaheir and me and felt much better…"

Greywulf stifled another laugh as Minsc grinned expectantly at the mage, then finished the sentence. "Thus I should tell a tale of butt kicking about Imoen and me so I'll feel better. An interesting idea, but I'm not sure it'll work that way."

"Of course it will!" Minsc threw up his arms as though Greywulf had questioned the very nature of the universe, that gravity existed or that water was wet. "Besides, if there's one thing I like more than butt kicking, it's a good story of butt kicking! Actually, I think I like the butt kicking best, but in place of it stories are good."

"All right, all right!" Greywulf laughed, putting his hands up in surrender. "I think this particular skirmish happened before we met you and Dynaheir…"

X X X X X X

"If we survive this mess, we are going to have a serious talk." Jaheira whispered angrily to Greywulf as they both stared down the ends of the arrows leveled at them, five strong with three swords approaching as well.

"D-dear, now might not be t-the best time." Khalid pointed out as he tightened his grip on the metallic shield he carried.

Greywulf suppressed a gulp of fear, finding his mouth dry as he quickly did a head count, ensuring that he had not miscounted the first time and that there were indeed eight bandits that faced their group of four. The two half-elf warriors that had joined them improved their odds of survival considerably from when it had been just Imoen and him, but two against one, added to the fact he and Imoen were still relatively new at this whole adventuring thing made the situation look rather bleak.

What made it worse was that this was all his fault, really. Things had actually been going quite well for the moment; he had been careful to stay on Jaheira's good side for the whole day and had even earned a rare compliment from her on the way he had tied up his pack for the rest of the day's hike after lunch. Maybe it was the approval from the usually annoyed druid that irked Imoen, or maybe she had just been bored; it was hard to tell with her sometimes. They had been walking through what Jaheira had been pointing out as a particularly dangerous section of woods, which according to Jaheira was "infested with bandits…we must take great care to avoid running into even a single brigand; if he gets off even the slightest cry, hordes are sure to follow."

Just as she had been getting to the part about 'hordes', Imoen had shoved Greywulf as she ran by him, giving him a raspberry as she passed. Khalid's stuttering yet soothing voice began to break through, telling her to calm down, but it was a bit late. If there was one way Imoen knew how to get under his skin, it was the 'raspberry and run' she had taunted him with since their days in Candlekeep, his legs never quite fast enough to catch hers. The chase was on, her giggles blowing in his face as she stayed just one step ahead of him. They weaved back and forth through the trees of the forest, quickly leaving Khalid and Jaheira behind, the sounds of Jaheira cursing fading behind them rapidly.

"What'sa matter, slowpoke?" Imoen tossed behind her, bobbing back and forth playfully as she ran. "Still can't catch lil' Imoen after all these years?"

"You're just as old as me, Imoen. Are you ever going to grow up?" Greywulf shouted ahead of him in irritation.

"Hm? Yer kidding, right?" Imoen said in mock disbelief. "The raspberry and run never gets old-"

Her sentence was cut off by a yelp from her as she abruptly came to a stop. Greywulf took no notice as to why she had ceased, only that he could now overtake her. He took great pleasure in slapping her back and giving a particularly good raspberry as he whizzed by her, only seeing what had caused her to stop afterwards. Barreling right into a shield sent him to the ground with a painful thud, rolling halfway back to Imoen's position. He looked upward quickly to see the yellow toothed grin of a bandit standing before them, his weapon at the ready.

"Looky here, two young'uns out for a romantic stroll in the woods. 'Ow cute." the thief slurred mockingly.

"We're not scared of you!" Imoen shouted even as her hands trembled, drawing an arrow to her bow quickly. At least she had remembered to get an arrow ready; the last time they had been surprised by enemies, it had taken nearly half the battle for Imoen to remember that she had to put arrows in her bow to be of any use.

"An-and we're not doin' anything romantic, either!" Imoen added angrily in what sounded like an afterthought. Greywulf rolled his eyes; only Imoen would have thought to defend her pride in such a way when death stared them in the face.

"Too bad. Ye make such a nice couple too." he grinned. "Didn' nobody tell you these here woods are dangerous?"

"Actually, we were told." Greywulf said, shooting a glare at Imoen as he slowly got to his feet. "I'd leave now if I were you. We're dangerous too!"

"Hah!" the brigand laughed. "I'd have to be blind, daft, and dumb to believe that! But ye've got spirit enough, I'll grant ye that. Try not to bleed all over me boots when I slice yer throats."

"It shall be your blood spilt if you continue." Jaheira's accented voice rang through the areas as she deftly leapt into view from seemingly nowhere, Khalid following close behind, his sword unsheathed and held tight to his body at guard position. "These youths are under our protection, brigand. They might seem easy prey, but we are most assuredly not."

"So it's a fight ye want, then? Boys!" the bandit cried out, bringing forth two more swordsmen from behind him, all with weapons ready. Behind those three appeared five archers, and such was the situation as Jaheira glared at their foes, her mind calculating how best to survive the next few seconds. Greywulf forced himself to slow his breathing, hoping that some of the new magic he had learned could be of use, if only to make up for the stupidity he had shown in chasing Imoen.

Before he could come up with anything, the sound of bow strings twanging in succession rang in his ears and he saw two arrows fly wide, another hit Khalid's shield, the last two coming straight for him and Imoen. He barely had time to think before Jaheira leapt to tackle the both of them, one in each arm, as they barreled to the ground and narrowly avoided the deadly missiles. She looked at both of them as they stared at her in fear, her lips forming words quickly and succinctly. "Get out of here. Run!"

She quickly got to her feet and shouted a druidic incantation before their foes could draw any closer, an Entangle spell sending roots and vines from the earth to grasp the legs of their enemies. Khalid did not hesitate but immediately engaged the bowmen to ward off any more danger to the fleeing youths as Imoen and Greywulf scrambled away, the sounds of battle ringing behind them.

"We can't just leave them there!" Imoen panted as they darted back and forth between the thick forest trees, almost out of breath.

"She told us to go!" Greywulf shot back angrily. "Besides, this is your fault!"

"What?! I wasn't the one who ran into the guy's shield!"

"No, you started the damn chase in the first place!"

Before either could argue any further, an arrow flew past Imoen, brushing her hair as it shot by. She nearly slipped in surprise, quickly ducking behind a tree in the direction of the arrow's launch. Greywulf did the same, peeking out to see if he could catch a glimpse of the enemy. Sure enough, two more bandits approached, each aiming at a different one of them. Imoen hastily fired an arrow from her own bow, the shot flying so far off it was hard to tell just who she had been aiming at, Greywulf or the bandits.

"Good job, now they know you can't aim either." Greywulf hissed.

"I don't see you using that fancy magic of yours!" Imoen responded in fear driven anger, drawing another arrow from her quiver with shaky hands.

Spurred on by her words, Greywulf hurriedly began his basic spell, sending two magic missiles out to strike the nearest bandit. He grunted with the impact, then kept on moving forward.

"Great… why don't you just throw rocks next time?" Imoen cried out as she fired another off target arrow.

"So sue me if I'm not good enough to conjure five or six missiles yet!" he shouted, frustration rapidly overtaking him. He had been practicing one more attack spell, but he wasn't quite sure enough of his ability to shape the magic to risk. A malfunctioning acid arrow could kill him just as easily as an opponent if it exploded in his hands. All he could try was another magic missile, but it was clear the spell was too weak to do the job required. He shut his eyes tight and cast his magic again, the unerring missiles finding the same target.

The unmistakable whuff of someone getting the air knocked out of them sounded, and both youths quickly glanced to see the bandit struck doubled over, his bow on the ground. The other bandit was busy reloading a new arrow from his quiver and both of them knew with a glimmer of hope... it was a perfect opportunity. Imoen leaned around the tree, closed one eye as she aimed and lined up the target…

The arrow jumped from her bow and struck flesh, piercing the bandit right through the heart. Technically she had missed, as the bandit she had been aiming at was still doubled over from the impact of Greywulf's magic missiles while the other was lying dead, but it was good enough for the two of them. Both jumped out and charged the remaining bandit, Imoen screeching in fear and excitement as she tried to draw another arrow as she ran. Greywulf had unsheathed his dagger and could barely contain his pounding heart, but for once he did arrive before Imoen, his dagger striking the neck of the man before them. He gurgled once and fell to the ground, leaving the two young adventurers the only ones alive in the clearing.

It was dead silent for as minute as Greywulf and Imoen tried to slow their breathing, the adrenaline still coursing through their bodies. "We're alive." Imoen said in shock.

"Then we should find some place to hide while we wait for Khalid and Jaheira to find us." he said, hurriedly pulling Imoen to a small bit of underbrush.

"We're not going to go and try to find them?" Imoen asked in surprise, but he did not answer, pulling her down with him as they concealed themselves.

Even as they stared into the opening before them, hardly breathing, Greywulf pushed from his thoughts the real reason he did not want to go search for Khalid and Jaheira. _I already saw Gorion dead because he told me to run; It was my fault he died. I don't... I can't find them dead too, just to protect me._ _If we wait for them there's always a chance they survived._

Imoen glanced at him and looked like she was about to say something to him, but her head quickly jolted to the side, eyes widening.

"What is it?" he whispered, quickly shushed by the thief.

"Listen!"

He did, and soon heard what her ears had picked up earlier, the sound of armored men creeping through the woods, their words slowly coming into earshot.

"Oy, I'm sure I heard shouts coming from over here."

"Do you think it's more travelers, or maybe some adventurers with gear we can sell?"

"Just as long as it's none of them Chill hobgoblins. I hates those buggers, trying to intrude on Black Talon territory all the time."

Greywulf glanced down at the spell scroll he had tucked on his belt, Imoen looking at him worriedly. He slowly pulled it out, reading the inscriptions once more.

"What're ya doing?" Imoen whispered.

"It's a Monster Summoning II scroll. It could summon a variety of creatures to our aid if I read it properly… maybe even hobgoblins."

Imoen blinked once, then opened her eyes in realization. She grinned at him, "Then what're you waiting for?"

Greywulf took a deep breath and began reading as precisely as possible, picturing the hobgoblins in his head, trying to figure out how to bring the magic from the scroll to his own way of using the power...

"Hurry!" Imoen hissed, glancing at the direction the bandits had been coming in.

Trying to ignore her insistent demands, he carefully finished the spell, as four pods of magic smattered to the ground before them. Greywulf's heart raced as he watched the magic light jump forth from each pod, awaiting the results of the casting…

"We've got some more company!" Imoen said a bit too loudly for Greywulf's tastes, pointing in a different direction from the first group of approaching bandits.

He barely heard her though, watching in supreme satisfaction as four hobgoblins appeared before them, all holding bows and awaiting his mental commands.

"What're we gonna do?" Imoen pleaded, shaking Greywulf physically now.

"Quit shaking me, Im! I got an idea. Follow my lead." Greywulf said with pushing her away as he watched his summoned creatures intently.

A few seconds later the first group of bandits burst through into view, stopping abruptly when they saw the hobgoblins standing above the two dead bandits.

"Hold it there!" one of them shouted as all bows went to ready position. "What're you hobgoblins doing out here!? You part of the Chill?"

They remained silent, not speaking until Greywulf gave the command. The mage watched nervously; if the other group didn't get here quickly enough, it would all be for naught…

The second group suddenly burst on the scene, about the same size as the first. As soon as they appeared, one of the hobgoblins grunted out, "We done like you paid us for; kill all your enemies in the Black Talon."

The man he spoke to drew back in surprise, but it was too late; the reaction by the second group was perfect, from the words of the 'hobgoblins' along with the dead bandits, it could not have been better. "What?! You hiring these knobgoblins to kill all yer peers, eh? Ye'll be the ones dying today!"

The group of bandits which had recently arrived immediately launched a volley of arrows at the first group, felling a number even as the hobgoblins fired at the second group, quickly joined by the beleaguered bandits from the beginning, still unsure why they had been attacked. Within seconds, it was over; both groups of bandits lay dead, arrows pinned through each body. All but one hobgoblin had died as well, the one left wavering on his feet as it struggled with the pain of an arrow in his gut. Imoen and Greywulf slowly crept out, surveying the scene in disbelief that their gambit had actually worked. Before they could do much else, the last summoned monster fell over, disappearing along with the rest of the hobgoblin bodies.

"I knew it would work." Greywulf said with a deep breath, trying to sound cool and collected.

"Right…" Imoen snorted, though she could not hide a sigh of relief even as she rolled her eyes. "Yer just lucky I'm here to keep you alive."

The sound of running and heavy breathing caught up to them before he could respond, and off to their side Khalid and Jaheira burst into view, each looking around wildly as though to fight off any threats to the two of them. Both of them had a number of injuries, and Khalid's shield arm looked slightly out of joint, but nothing beyond Jaheira's healing abilities. They slowly took in the scene, Khalid gulping in disbelief as he counted the number of dead bodies lying about.

"I see you two are more capable than I had given you credit for." Jaheira exhaled with a frown. "Now, I believe we should leave this place before more bandits show up. And as for both of you, we are still going to have a **_very_** long chat once we are gone."

X X X X X X

"My ears were ringing for hours after Jaheira finished her lecture." Greywulf laughed as he finished recounting the tale to Minsc. "But it was a small price to pay to see the look on both their faces when they saw all the dead bandits. They thought Imoen and I had killed all of them by ourselves… a notion we didn't exactly get rid of right away."

"Ha! Villainy is no match for our might!" Minsc said grandly, pounding the bar with a meaty fist. "Even as small ones Imoen and Greywulf fought the muck of villainy back to its lair and administered the beat down!"

"I can't tell you how scared we were at the time," Greywulf sighed, shifting his weight on the stool. "But if Imoen hadn't been there, I don't think I could have made it. I owe her a lot."

"But you feel better now, yes? The tales of heroism and boot-stomping have lifted your spirits!"

Greywulf nodded after a moment of thought, shrugging. "Yeah… you're right, I do feel better. I think I might actually be able to get some sleep now."

Minsc slapped Greywulf's back, knocking him off the bar stool and to his feet as the ranger stood as well. The two friends began making their way back to the stair, but were stopped when out of the corner of his eye, Greywulf caught a glimpse of a body sitting in a chair at the far table in the corner. Minsc saw it right after Greywulf stopped and they both walked over quietly. The shallow light was enough to reveal Jaheira in the chair there, her eyes fixed on the table before them, not looking up at her two companions.

Greywulf glanced at Minsc; the ranger nodded gravely and they both circled the table to sit beside her. She barely moved her gaze as they seated themselves, the object of her intent becoming clear to them. Her hands held the simple gold band she wore on her finger, the twin of the one Khalid had worn as well. She fingered the wedding ring for a moment longer, then quickly slipped it back on her finger, wiping the glistening tear trails from her face.

"How long have you been down here?" Greywulf asked quietly.

"About as long as you." She murmured in the dark.

"Ah, then you know what we mean when we say… it's your turn." Minsc said with a gentle smile.

X X X X X X

"Just what exactly will this mission entail?" Jaheira queried, fingering the quarterstaff she carried with a hint of anticipatory excitement.

She had been accepted as a full member of the Harpers less than a week ago, and she had already been given an assignment with a group, something of what sounded like utmost importance. The leader of this mission was to be the wizard Gorion, though her fellow comrades were unknown to her. She was to meet them today at this meeting... waiting was not exactly one of her strong suits. Gorion leaned back in his chair, puffing once more on his pipe before answering the druid's question. "Patience, Jaheira… we should wait for the others to arrive before we begin the briefing."

"Of course." she replied easily, though she was still quite anxious to begin. She had finally found what she believed to be her calling in life, an organization whose sole purpose was to protect the balance, the same reason she left the druid grove in the first place. "They appear to be somewhat late."

"Nonsense… you know what they say about wizards and being late." Gorion chuckled.

"Are there many wizards who will be accompanying us, then?"

"Er… no. I do believe I'll be the only one… two more warriors will be with us, a bard, and a rogue. Enough for our purposes."

Before Jaheira could say any more, the door behind them opened, revealing those Gorion had spoken of. A tall man in a green cloak and hood stalked in first, a dark mustache and goatee gracing the lines of his face. He winked once at Jaheira before seating himself halfway across the table with his legs up, quite relaxed. Jaheira immediately took note of the multiple throwing daggers and lock picking equipment strapped to his belt and marked him with a frown as the rogue, then moved on to the others.

A female human with blonde hair that ran down to the small of her back moved in next, sitting beside Jaheira. She had a fair complexion, looking more like a maiden of innocence than a Harper. Her frame was somewhat petite, definitely more so than Jaheira, but she still carried herself with an air of confidence, the studded leather armor she wore not hindering her in the least. The pack she carried seemed a bit oversized, most likely to carry and pad instruments inside. Marking her as the bard, Jaheira gave the girl a quick nod, then moved on to studying the others.

The two warriors came in together, their armor and weaponry giving them away easily. The brawnier of the two moved towards the rogue, his large splint mail shifting noisily as he sat. He carried a large two-handed sword by his side and many scars lined his face. His head was bald and he had a brown mustache and beard. The epitome of the burly warrior; Jaheira really couldn't say she was impressed.

The other one held a smaller long sword, accompanied by a medium shield in his off hand. He was shorter yet still of a good height, though his face was covered in shadow at the moment by the helmet he wore. She did take note that his ears, uncovered by the helmet, had the telltale point of elven heritage. His build was quite a bit smaller than the first warrior, but he came and sat beside Gorion himself on the right, the only seat left on the table. Removing his helmet, Jaheira found herself rather surprised to see the smooth, unlined face behind the helmet. He had striking brown eyes, ones that despite his status as a warrior, seemed unwilling to meet those of his companions while they looked at him. An air of nervousness seemed to cloud his movements; unusual, Jaheira noted. Before she could study the enigmatic warrior any longer, Gorion cleared his throat and began speaking.

"Ah… so we are all here then. Time to begin, I presume. As you all know, I am Gorion, the… 'ahem' leader, of this mission. For those of you new here, I think you'll find that we use the term leader quite loosely amongst the Harpers."

Jaheira tried her best not to blush angrily. She had rather hoped Gorion would not call attention to the fact that she was a rookie amidst veterans. It didn't matter, she reasoned. She would merely work harder to prove her worth among these men and women.

"Now, on to names. The fellow over there whom would do all of us a service if he could remove his feet from the table ( this is a meeting table, not a footrest), is Aritolcus, our rogue for this mission."

Aritolcus sighed overdramatically and slid his feet back off the table, resting his elbows there instead. Almost as an afterthought, he nodded to the group in a circular swoop.

"The young blonde-haired lass over there is Bri, a bard from the distant town of Halfway."

Bri smiled with a look that would have melted every heart to see it, her blue eyes and innocent looks enough to strike the rogue into paying attention. When her gaze reached Jaheira, she winked and then immediately returned to paying attention.

"Yes, well. The lady beside Bri is Jaheira, a druid with more than adequate fighting skills to accompany her magics as well."

Jaheira met each member's gaze in sequence, pausing just long enough to nod as seemed to be the tradition; though she noticed the smaller warrior kept his gaze upon her a bit longer than the others. She returned it until he finally averted his eyes, returning to watching Gorion.

"The balding man over there would be Kurtesh, a former gladiator whose experience will be most invaluable for this mission."

Kurtesh grunted in acknowledge at his name, naught much more was forthcoming from the man.

"Ah, and finally our second fighter. This young half-elf beside me is Khalid, a warrior hailing from Calimport."

Khalid's face reddened just slightly at his name, but he followed suit as the others. Jaheira watched him with a special interest, wondering in her heart about this peculiar man. She was given no more time to question as the rest of the meeting began, Gorion explaining the logistics of their mission. There was a slave trade going on in Calimport, led by one Baron Ployer. There was already a contact awaiting their arrival named Belgrade who would help them once they found him, but it was their job to shut down the ring, capturing Ployer if at all possible. Once the briefing was over, Gorion left them to talk for a while, and the group quickly split into one-on-one conversations, each one feeling out the rest of the group.

"So… a druid, hmm?" Jaheira turned to see Bri sidling up beside her, watching the rest of the group talk as well.

"Er… yes. A druid and a fighter." Jaheira corrected, not wishing to be underestimated or undervalued by the group. "And I trust you are more than just a singer of tales and songs."

"You'd be right, then." Bri beamed. "Bards tend to get the reputation of being useless everywhere but taverns, something that gives us an advantage when performing operations like these in the Harpers. How long have you been a member, anyway?"

Jaheira quietly cursed Gorion again for mention the fact that there were newbies in the group, then said with a forced smile, "This is actually my first mission… I was just recently initiated."

"Really?" Bri said in surprise. "I would have never guessed it by the way you look and act. I had my money on that Khalid fellow being the new one here. Poor guy looks like he's got the shakes, he's so nervous. I tried talking with him for a bit, and you'd never believe the way he stutters. Must be a speech impediment or something; he couldn't be a warrior and be that nervous."

"Perhaps…" Jaheira murmured as she watched Khalid talk with Aritolcus, the warrior's expression somewhat sheepish as they chatted. The rogue laughed aloud, slapped Khalid on the back then moved on to another of the group, the rather imposing Kurtesh. "Kinda cute, don't you think?"

"What?" Jaheira was jolted by Bri's words as she winked at Jaheira again, motioning to Aritolcus. "The rogue? Not my type, thanks."

"Tall, handsome and daring not your type?" Bri shrugged. "Less competition for me then, I guess. Good thing too; you're not a bad looking girl yourself."

"Are you always this open in your talks with strangers?" Jaheira said in partial disbelief, one eyebrow cocked.

"Mostly. When you're a bard, you kinda lose all semblance of self-consciousness. But back on the dating circuit again, if you're not put on by Aritolcus, that Khalid isn't bad looking either; in fact, from the way you're looking at him and he's looking at you, I'd guess you've already noticed."

"You must be joking." Jaheira sputtered, feeling her cheeks begin to blush a rosy color. "I'm not-"

"Aw, but you are soft on him." Bri laughed. "I tend to notice this kind of thing pretty quick. Trust me… he's definitely your type."

Bri turned and stalked away before Jaheira could say anything more, leaving the druid in stunned silence as she stared at the man they had been talking about. _The girl is daft... impossible. We haven't even spoken, how can she think I'm attracted to this complete stranger? _True, he did have a handsomeness about him that Jaheira found attractive, but this was not the place for such things, and definitely not before she had even met the man. She folded her arms and glanced over at the half-elf warrior, noting his build and features. Almost thirty seconds had passed before Jaheira blinked once, realizing that she was staring, his eyes finally catching her gaze. She reflexively turned away, blushing even redder. Her heart thudded in confusion, wondering what had just happened. She had been so excited and focused on the mission for the Harpers a few minutes ago; now she was trying to convince herself she wasn't attracted to a teammate? This was not how it was supposed to go...

The sound of armored footsteps falling close by turned her head again to see in surprise the figure of Khalid approaching, walking up with a warm smile. He held out one hand, the other arm holding his helmet. "H-hello. Pleased to m-meet you, Jaheira. I'm-"

"Khalid… I know." Jaheira replied softly, returning the smile as she shook his hand for the first time.

X X X X X X X

"I can't explain what happened…" Jaheira whispered, staring into space as she finished her tale. "All I know is that we were inseparable after that… we fell in love perhaps the day we met. Now… it is so strange. I sometimes turn to look at him or just hold his hand briefly… and he is not there."

"Minsc knows too." the ranger nodded. "We also want to ask Dynaheir questions and advice as we used to. We cannot… but we still keep going. They are not Dynaheir, no; but we have Greywulf and Jaheira and Yoshimo to ask now."

"You're not alone, Jaheira… not while we have anything to say about it." Greywulf said quietly with a hint of a smile. "What you said of Khalid; it is truly beautiful. I knew him for such a short time and he was so full of compassion, life… I appreciate your trust; sharing this memory must not be easy for you."

"It is not… but it is easier now, I think." Jaheira said, taking a deep breath. "I feel I must… apologize to you. Both of you. I have said things out of anger, lashed out at whomever I could in an attempt to soothe my own guilt and hurt. You both have tolerated my outbursts and indeed taken the brunt of them. I cannot promise there will be no more, but please remember that I need you both as friends; you two are my comfort and support right now."

"Apology accepted." Greywulf said with a wink, giving her a quick hug before she could protest.

Minsc redoubled the gesture by embracing the both of them in his massive arms, gleefully stating, "Oh, but it is a joyous thing to see our spirits reunified again! The tales of butt kicking have done their job as intended! Hamsters and rangers everywhere... REJOICE!!"

Greywulf tried not to laugh as he heard Jaheira's complaints muffled against Minsc's giant arm. The memories of their missing and fallen companions were still with them, but some much needed healing had taken place with the telling of a few simple stories. Not to say there would not be more fights, more arguments and knowing Jaheira, more sarcastic comments... but it was better. All three of them walked back upstairs together and headed to their respective beds. Within five minutes... all were fast asleep. It was better.


	11. Part 1: Dealing With The Devil

"Jaheira?" Greywulf glanced at the half-elven druid who walked a few paces behind him.

"Yes, what is it?"

"Just wondering, why is it that no matter where we go, who we fight, what they're doing...we always end up trudging through a sewer?!"

Jaheira snorted; Yoshimo grinned, "I assume you have done this before?"

Before they had left the Copper Coronet, Hendak had informed them of a slaving compound located somewhere in the Slums district, the very place he was originally brought to before Lehtinan had purchased him. It was reputed to be the very center of slavery in Athkatla... men, women, and children all held captive, awaiting 'owners'.

Even if Greywulf hadn't already agreed to aid Hendak in getting rid of this place, Minsc had veritably shook with rage when hearing of children as slaves and would not be dissuaded from going; he had barely agreed to spend the night at the Copper Coronet after his injury to recover and rest. Attempts at maybe persuading him to stay and heal up a bit more were also ignored, he would not be left behind for any injury, especially since Hendak could not accompany them, needing to stay at the Coronet in case any slavers returned. The next morning Hendak had shown them the passage leading from the Coronet to the slaving compound... but after they had traveled it for a few minutes, it became fairly clear that Hendak had neglected to tell them it ran through a sewer line that was _supposedly _no longer in use.

Still... Greywulf glanced back at Jaheira as they went, smiling briefly. The time that Minsc, Jaheira and he had spent together last night had done more than ease their slumber; the tightness that had plagued Jaheira's eyes, the anger that was always rippling underneath her frame and posture since their escape from Irenicus' dungeon... it was diminished, visibly lessened. Minsc's jolly face and good cheer was returned, rather than the sorrow and grief he had displayed previously. Not to say there wouldn't be more struggles, more pain and loss... but they would survive. They would endure and they would not fail.

"Minsc will need to clean his boots when this is over." the ranger grunted, shuffling through the ankle-high sludge that littered their path.

"I think a full wash and cleaning would do after this." Greywulf grimaced, trying to breathe through his mouth as they continued onward. "Bad enough when our enemies know we're coming by word... they really don't need an advance smell warning too."

"Not to worry... I think we are close now." Yoshimo whispered, quickening his pace as he spied a second corridor barricaded off from the main line. It dried fairly quickly, revealing footprints from what appeared to be a well-used path, further evidence that they were on the right path. Trying in vain to shake off some of the goop and gunk that clung to their boots and ankles as they ran, a flickering light could barely be seen up ahead, lighting a hard right turn at the end of the sewer corridor. Drawing closer gave them more visibility to work with and they were soon sneaking rather than sprinting, the faint sound of shuffling feet and impatient shifting of weight and armor could be heard around the bend.

Yoshimo crept up closer, his back pressed against the pipe wall, peering around the corner with as much stealth as he could muster... two men stood in front and on either side of a large sewer vault door, both clad in heavy plate mail and armed with shields and maces. The man on the left was probably responsible for making most of the noise, he looked bored beyond belief and would probably be sleeping if the other man were not there to keep him alert. That one was definitely more alert... though it was obvious they had little reason to be guarding a door that nobody had stumbled upon or tried to storm for who knows how long.

The Kara-Tuan bounty hunter ducked back behind full cover and quickly relayed what he had seen to the rest of the group. "I have no doubt we could defeat them in battle if necessary... though the door does not appear to be as sturdy as it once was, nor as soundproof, I would surmise."

"You're right, if that door flies open and there are eight other men behind it we could be in some trouble." Greywulf whispered.

"There's only two out here..." Minsc responded hopefully.

Greywulf saw the glint of excitement in his eyes; he sighed and nodded with a faint smile. They ducked back down the corridor so Greywulf's incantations would not be audible to the two guards; the spell was completed within seconds. The voices of the two guards began echoing down to them faintly.

"This armor's getting heavy, Shank. We could sell it for some extra gold, ye know... buy some leathers instead?"

The guard on the right rolled his eyes as he glanced over at the one beside him, the man rolling his eyes in irritation. "Carbos, if you wanna take a chance of some sewer monster gettin ya cause yer wearing leather armor, be my guest. Now quiet."

"You don'na think there're really sewer monsters down here, do ye?"

"Well if one came and shut yer complaining up, I'd be damn glad to see it!" Shank growled, Carbos shrinking away a bit. "Now quit your yappin or I'll shut you up myself."

Silence... "I think a war hammer would work better than a mace on a sewer monster. Don't you? I mean, its got better swing, hits harder-"

"I don't really care!" Shank snapped. "Hit em with a hammer, mace, flail, club, a dead fish even, just stop talkin and keep watch!"

More silence... "You ain't still mad about Bubbles, is ya? I mean, s'not like I knew she'd get mad and leave the _both_ of us after we fought-"

"Y'know what, Carbos? Just keep talking, see what happens! Okay?!" Shank seethed.

Another few seconds of silence..."Y' got anything to eat?" Carbos complained, hefting his mace over his shoulder to relieve the weight. "I mean, we been guarding this door for three hours now and nobody's done come... we could go get sumthin and nobody'd miss us, right?"

"Would ya just shut up about yer stomach? I swear, every day we guard this place and every day you ask me if I got something to eat... no! No I don' got anything to eat now, I won't tomorrow, and I won't the day after that!" Shank shouted at his counterpart, waving his mace wildly. "I'll clock you with this mace if you say another word about food!"

"Yeah, but-"

"Shut up!!"

"Boo thinks both of you should be quiet now. Thank you."

The voice came into being a split second before the invisibility spell Minsc had been enchanted with ended, his giant hands grabbing their heads and slamming them together. The sound of their skulls colliding loudly resonated in the chamber as they both slumped to the ground, Minsc standing behind the both of them with a big grin. The other three quickly turned the corner, Yoshimo glancing downward to make a quick check on their foes. One of his katanas came unsheathed in a blur and came up for a downswing at the two men's throats before Greywulf put one hand out, blocking him.

"No need for that, Yoshimo." he frowned. "They're no threat to us."

"And what if they come back while we are searching through here?" he questioned. "I was not aware you had any compunctions about killing your foes."

"I kill when necessary. Not because I can. If they're foolish enough to challenge us again... without their armor and weapons, they'll get what's coming to them. Until then, they live."

"Your decision." Yoshimo said, lowering his bow as Minsc and Jaheira quickly stripped them of their plate mail, Jaheira donning one set while Minsc, his frame a little too big for the other set, smashed it with the maces the guards had used. Tossing the two weapons down the sewer tunnel afterward, the group quickly set out to examine the door, still keeping a close eye on the unconscious men just in case.

"The lock mechanism is too complicated for even my skills." Yoshimo muttered after several minutes of trying to open the lock on the door. "Greywulf, perhaps you could..."

The sorcerer made a few incantations, but the spell only fizzled against the apparently magic-resistant lock, no tell-tale clicking of the mechanism unlocking.

"You're sure there weren't any keys on the two of them?" he asked Jaheira, who shook her head a definite no. "So much for the stealthy approach. Minsc, do what you do best."

Minsc grinned, unsheathed the Sword of Chaos and with a mighty bellow, got a running start and barreled towards the door. The once sturdy door caved easily broken under the assault of the massive ranger, the men standing on the other side scrambling away as Minsc tumbled through the now open portal, Yoshimo darting in behind with an arrow drawn and at the ready, Jaheira and Greywulf taking rear.

A large wooden paneled room loaded with crates and desks, a makeshift office of sorts was their new location, about as big as the main bar room of the Copper Coronet. Five men and women stood across from them, one woman dressed in the robes of a priest of Cyric, two of the other guards wearing light armor and carrying bows, the final two wearing heavy armor and carrying broadswords.

"Ye're the ones responsible for this mess!" hissed one of the men, stepping forward with a twisted scowl of rage. "Lehtinan and I had a good thing going until you came in and screwed it all up! Why!?"

"You sicken me." Greywulf snarled, pointing his staff at the man. "You trade in the lives of innocent men and women, even stooping to children and you have the gall to ask why we're doing this. No mercy for your kind of scum; you've brought this upon yourself!!"

A jet of flame shot towards the leader, driving him back as he barely dodged its embrace, ducking behind a pile of crates that kindled so easily. The other swordsman moved up to attack Minsc while the archers took aim at Jaheira and Yoshimo. Behind them all the Cyrician priestess chanted her dark magics and brought unholy power down upon the group, its very touch a blight upon Greywulf and Minsc. As the two men struggled to stand, Yoshimo and Jaheira found themselves mostly unaffected, Yoshimo rolling away from an incoming arrow to release his own missile, striking his foe in the shoulder. A quick second arrow was enough to dispatch her, falling victim to the thief's expert bow skill.

The priestess had focused upon Greywulf and was assaulting him with all manner of clerical spells, all just deflected by the protective magic Greywulf was struggling to maintain, his ears and head still ringing with the initial Unholy Blight. Finally, the protection shattered to send Greywulf flying across the room, crashing into a pile of crates. His whole body ached as his sight cleared and ceased its spinning, watching the dark cleric walk closer, her mouth and hands already forming a spell to finish him. The woman's expression changed from triumphant victory to severe pain as another arrow from Yoshimo's bow tagged her through the chest, the bounty hunter nodding grimly to Greywulf. Climbing to his feet, Greywulf once more joined the fray alongside Minsc and Jaheira, though their foes were already all but slain under their furious assault.

"Did we get them all?" Greywulf asked between breaths, his mind still a tad unsteady.

"No... their captain fled when he realized we were slaughtering his men." Jaheira replied grimly. "I do not see the children here, or any cells for that matter. They must be further down the tunnel, wherever the coward ran to."

"Perhaps, but there is one more door over there." Yoshimo motioned to a closed door to their right. "Should we not check it as well?"

Going over to the door, Minsc opened it only to have a large beast burst through, knocking the ranger away. From the green skin, monstrous appearance and razor-sharp claws, there was no doubt what they faced was a troll. Jaheira did not hesitate but immediately attacked, thrusting her spear deep into the monster's belly. She was quickly knocked backwards with a swipe of the monster's large arm, the brute strength taking her by surprise. The troll snarled once more and then charged towards Yoshimo, his arrows flying at the troll as he came. Just before the troll reached the thief, he dropped his bow and unsheathed his twin katanas, using one to block a slash from the troll, while the other cut deep into the flesh of the beast. With the troll focused upon Yoshimo, Minsc and Jaheira charged again from behind, burying both sword and spear into the monster's back, attempting to injure the troll faster than it could regenerate. While his friends battled, Greywulf began chanting, finally managing to conjure a bolt of acid to pierce the troll's chest. The acid spread through the creature's body, finally felling the mighty beast.

"Trolls. I hate trolls." Greywulf muttered as he dusted off his robes.

"I had heard of these beasts, but I had never encountered one before." Yoshimo noted, gathering any still-usable arrows. "I had no idea they regenerated so quickly."

"Yeah well... get used to it. Never the most pleasant creatures to encounter, though they always seem to pop up in the darndest of places." he responded as they approached the now open door. "Still, the fewer we see of them the bett-"

Just as they entered a loud roar shook the room, emanating from another troll that was hunched by a small, obviously terrified girl.

"Oh hell. Didn't I just tell you-?" Greywulf said through gritted teeth as they all flew into action, trying desperately to draw the troll's attention away from the cowering girl.

"Yes. You did." Yoshimo responded as he pulled back his bow, launching another arrow towards the foul beast before dropping it to draw his katanas once more.

The arrow lodged in the monster's shoulder, but its effects were barely noticeable as the troll fought against Minsc and Jaheira, unable to hit them solidly. Minsc took advantage of its momentary attention towards Jaheira to thrust his sword into the body of the troll, attempting to overcome it quickly. He paid dearly for the attack, as the troll slammed his large fist into the ranger's face, sending him across the room, the sword still in the troll's side. With only one warrior to occupy his attention, the troll quickly overcame Jaheira's defensive blocks and smacked her aside as well. Greywulf hurriedly began casting another acid arrow, hoping to end the fight before anyone could be hurt further, but just before his spell craft was finished the troll hurled a large crate at the sorcerer, knocking him to the ground and disrupting his casting. Yoshimo's katanas were also no defense, the troll rushing forward too fast for him to parry and counterattack as he had done before. The troll grabbed Yoshimo around the neck with one enormous claw and picked him up off the ground, strangling the thief as he desperately tried to free himself. One katana swung down at the troll's other arm, but a fist to the face ended his attempts at freeing himself, the thief dropping both katanas as he slowly asphyxiated.

Picking herself off the ground, Jaheira saw the situation and began intoning her druidic chants, summoning a scimitar of flame to her. Gripping it tightly, she leapt at the troll, only to be knocked out of the air with the troll's free hand.

Seeing her drop the fiery weapon as she fell, Greywulf dived over to the blade and picked it up, charging the troll again. The troll attempted to knock Greywulf away much as he had done with Jaheira but Greywulf had seen Jaheira's attempt and was prepared. As the arm swung towards him, Greywulf rolled underneath it to come up in front of the troll's massive body. Before the troll could back up or drop Yoshimo to defend itself, Greywulf pushed the flaming sword into the chest of the beast, the flame erupting through the body of the beast. Yoshimo fell limply from the troll's hand as the creature dropped to the ground; kneeling next to the fallen man, Greywulf quickly listened for a heartbeat or any other sign of life. Running over, Jaheira and the limping Minsc came beside the mage and asked, "Does he live?"

After one more check, Greywulf took a deep breath and said, "Aye. He lives. He should be fine after he wakes up... though he's gonna have one hell of a headache. Still, he's lucky; any longer and he might have suffocated."

Minsc breathed a sigh of relief, and said, "This is good. Boo was concerned about our friend. He has helped us very much so far, and neither I nor Boo would like to see him die."

Minsc's eyes widened as he glanced over at the charred husk of the troll's body. He smiled as he walked over, pulling his sword from the troll's body.

"I will need this." Minsc declared, wiping troll blood from the blade. "Butt-kicking is very difficult without a good sword."

As all this took place, the little girl who had been hiding in the corner during the entire battle slowly crept out, a frightened expression still on her face.

"Are you… are you here to hurt me? Please don't!"

Trying to calm the girl, Greywulf knelt down in front of the girl and said gently, "Don't worry. We're here to save you. You're not a slave anymore. Go now, and get out of this place."

A smile of relief blossomed upon the girl, as she cried, "Free? Oh, thank you! But, I don't know what to do. My home is down in Beregost and I don't have the money to get there."

Feeling compassion for the girl, Greywulf pulled a handful of gold from his coin pouch, and handed it to the girl. "Here. This should be enough to get you to Beregost. Now you'd best get out of here before the slavers get back. There's an inn down the sewer line called the Copper Coronet; a man named Hendak owns it now, he can help you. Now go, hurry."

The girl took the money with joy and then darted down the hall from which Greywulf had just come. As she left, Greywulf turned back to Yoshimo who was just now waking up. Coughing, Yoshimo bolted up and grasped at his katanas, whirling around wildly as he looked for the monster. Grabbing Yoshimo's arm, Greywulf snapped in his face several times until Yoshimo looked at Greywulf, his mind finally clearing.

"It's all right, Yoshimo. The troll's dead. We'd better get you over to Jaheira and patch you up quick before we get going. I think she's just finished helping Minsc."

"No, I am fine." Yoshimo said, shaking his head. "Though now that I think about it, I suppose I cannot pass up a chance to have Jaheira's healing hands-"

Greywulf cut Yoshimo off mid-sentence, saying, "Okay, you're fine. Let's see what we can find in here, then keep moving."

Yoshimo protested for a second, saying, "No, I think I may have hurt myself. I should let Jaheira make sure I'm okay."

One glare from Jaheira set Yoshimo to searching, until they had scavenged what they could. Putting all the gold found in their bags, Jaheira gave Greywulf a large gem, one obviously fashioned in the cut of a pommel gem.

"Here... I found this in the possession of the Priestess of Cyric. There is a definite aura of magic... but it is not dark like that of the worshipers of Cyric." Jaheira explained as Greywulf looke it over, studying it.

"Well, I suppose we should keep it. Who knows when you'll find a sword missing a pommel gem? Happens all the time, you know. Hey look, there's one. No, that's an arrow."

Greywulf immediately regretted his jests as Jaheira smacked him in the forehead head palm-first, gazing at him with an mock look of surprise as Greywulf rubbed his head, cursing softly. "Oh... I'm sorry, Greywulf... I thought that was a head missing a brain. My mistake."

_I almost miss the angst ridden Jaheira who just ignored me completely. The sarcastic jesting Jaheira is more... violent._ Greywulf thought with a wince as they kept moving, navigating the compound quickly. Quietly ducking through the dark hallway the slaver captain had escaped through, they reached a semi-lit area, cells on either side. Looking into them, Greywulf saw a small group of children in each of the two cells. Clutching his staff in anger, Greywulf whispered to Jaheira, "You and Yoshimo get these kids out of here. Minsc and I will keep moving and confront these slaving bastards."

Jaheira nodded and went over to the cages with Yoshimo, the thief picking the locks on the doors. Even as they worked, the sounds of crashing tables and furniture began echoing down the hallway, along with various shouts from Minsc and the sound of spells igniting alongside him. They hurried the children out and to the exit back towards the Coronet as quickly as they could, trusting that Minsc and Greywulf's combined might would be enough to deal with the slavers here. Once the last of the slaves had been freed, they dashed back to where they had last heard the sounds of combat, finding Greywulf and Minsc the only two standing amidst a room full of destroyed furniture, a number of dead men lying about including a large number of pieces of what appeared to be frozen... people, strewn about the room.

"Don't ask." Greywulf warned.

Nodding, Yoshimo looked around and asked, "Did you find the man we fought before? The cowardly one?"

"He got away again, through there." Greywulf replied, pointing at another door. "Minsc was just about to head after him again, but I figured we might wait for you first."

"He will not escape justice!" Minsc growled. "He is lucky Greywulf had not yet found the extra special potion like from before."

"What?" Yoshimo frowned.

"Eh... he's talking about back in the Baldur's Gate Undercity." Greywulf rubbed his brow as though reliving a painful memory. "Let's just say it involved Potions of Explosions, Arrows of Detonation, and about six fireballs going off all at once. I found one of the same kind of potion here but he had already slipped out before I could huck it at him."

"Potions of Explosions; I have... seen them in use before. I think I will keep my distance Greywulf, please excuse me." Yoshimo said with raised eyebrows, taking a step away from Greywulf as he noted the potion hanging on Greywulf's belt. "Still, the children are safe... they have all been told where to go and how to find the girl we set free before. A little gold for each to get them home."

"We need to get going, anyway." Jaheira cut in, glaring warily at the vial Greywulf carried as well. "The longer we take, the more chance the slavers have to gather their strength... and by Silvanus man, get rid of that thing as soon as possible."

X X X X X X X

"Two hundred. Two hundred gold pieces, plus whatever we can get for selling some of this gear we salvaged. Add that to what Hendak gave us from Lehtinan's stores, we have about five hundred gold pieces. That's nowhere near the 20,000 we need to get the Shadow Thieves' help." Greywulf sighed, putting the money they had recovered from the corpses of the remaining slavers' back in his bag.

"We might have been able to get more money off the captain if he and his gear weren't in so many pieces." Jaheira glared, Greywulf doing his best to avoid looking directly at her.

"You did tell him to get rid of the potion, you know." Yoshimo noted, brushing at the singed edges of his armor and sleeves.

"I didn't mean throwing it at the captain when we were seconds away from catching up to him! Certainly not indoors!!" she snapped back, gesturing behind them.

"At least it burned off most of the sewer sludge on our clothing..." Greywulf shrugged helplessly. "Saves us a washing-"

Jaheira's flashing eyes were more than enough to stop his excuses while Minsc only watched with more than a hint of admiration. "That was almost as good as the arrows, Greywulf... could we-"

"No." all three of the others answered simultaneously, Jaheira returning to glare at Greywulf as Minsc shrugged, the group leaving behind the smoking hulk of the slaving compound, ablaze and almost collapsed as they headed through the streets of the slums back to the Copper Coronet.

"We'll need to find some jobs that can pay real money if we're to ever find Imoen." Greywulf noted, fingering his staff as they walked.

"And some better equipment." Jaheira grunted, running one hand down the blackened section of wood that ran along her spear shaft.

"Perhaps that Nalia girl has returned to the Coronet by now. It sounds like her job might pay rather well." Yoshimo commented.

"And if not?" Jaheira asked.

"We could go to the circus." Minsc remarked, petting Boo as they walked.

"Brus did mention something going on at the circus, didn't he?" Yoshimo said, looking at Minsc with a look of surprise. "I did not expect you to remember such a thing, Minsc."

Minsc looked at Jaheira with a confused expression, saying, "I do not know of anything requiring the fist of Minsc's justice, but Boo likes all the food at the circus, as does Minsc. And there is nothing that aids in the butt kicking of evil better than food and lots of it! But wait wait. Now that the subject has come up, Boo does indeed remember that Brus mentioned the circus to us. He is usually the one who remembers this sort of thing, as I have stated before. He lets me know, so I can fully concentrate on the smashing of evil."

"Right. Oh look, we're back." Greywulf said, relieved to end the conversation. Entering the bar's main room, the four walked over to Hendak, now at the spot formerly occupied by Lehtinan.

"My friends, you have returned! The children have already made their away through here and are on their way to the city gates, escorted by some of my fellow warriors. The slave trade in Athkatla is over, at least in this area."

"A pleasure to help. I know you said you could offer no reward, but if you could buy some of these weapons and equipment from us, it would be much obliged." Greywulf smiled as he handed over the items recovered from the slaver compound.

Hendak nodded and after pricing the items he gave Greywulf a sack of gold, slightly heavier than it should have been. "There is something extra in there, because I know you fight for a righteous cause."

Minsc looked proudly about as Hendak handed Greywulf the bag, then proclaimed, "We do good things here! All will remember the heroes that are Minsc and Boo and you!"

"Yes well," Greywulf said, looking around, "No need to flaunt our deeds. Don't want to draw any more of a crowd than necessary." _Especially when we just finished blowing up a building in a magic-hating city with a potion that's highly regulated and banned in most cities._

"Nonsense!" Minsc insisted. "All enjoy the sight of heroes. We shall be the talk of the town for days! Wave to the nice people, Boo! Wave to the nice hamster, people! WAVE!!"

Greywulf turned away from the increasingly agitated ranger as nobody seemed to wave to Boo, then said to the new owner before him, "Thanks, Hendak. Before we leave, has there been a girl around here asking for mercenaries for hire? Her name is Nalia, but she wasn't there earlier and I don't see her now."

Scouring the room, Hendak replied, "No, I have seen no such girl. There is a man over there who has asked for you specifically, though."

Taken slightly by surprised, Greywulf turned to see a tall man in the corner, dressed in reddish black garb, a long black cloak covering him as well. He smiled a toothy grin at the group as they approached, "You wanted to speak with us?"

He replied in a deep, slightly accented voice, "Ah yes... you are Greywulf, and I assume these are your traveling companions. I am Lord Jierdan Firkraag, a noble who resides in the close lands near Athkatla. I have need of the services of a creature such as yourself."

"How do you know of us?" Jaheira asked suspiciously.

"Why, everyone knows the heroes of Baldur's Gate. Jaheira, is it? That is why I have asked you and not some common group of adventurers. I want to know that this job will be done well."

"I told you we should be proud of our deeds!" Minsc boasted. "Quiet tales of a hamster and a ranger are foolish, but shouting stories of a ranger and hamster ripping evil limb from limb? That is scary!"

"Scary, but probably not in the way you think." Yoshimo chuckled as Greywulf continued. "No need for flattery, we will listen to your proposal." Greywulf interjected, hoping to convince this Firkraag his group was not completely crazy.

"It is a simple matter, really." the noble explained. "My land has recently been overrun with a veritable menagerie of beasts, mostly orcs and a few trolls, but I hear that a good number of ogres have come as well. My men simply do not have the manpower to deal with this threat. I wish to be rid of these creatures."

"A chance to deal with monsters and creatures of evil?" Minsc bellowed, brimming with excitement. "Minsc and Boo stand ready!"

"Not too complicated, yet it maintains the balance should we intervene. I for one would welcome a visit to nature and out of this filthy city." Jaheira frowned.

Looking back at the man, Greywulf said, "Sounds like we can do this. But before I agree, I am afraid I must know how much we will be paid. We need a large amount of gold to rescue a friend; it is quite important."

Firkraag smiled broadly and said, "I was just getting to that. For heroes of your quality, only the best of wages. I assume ten thousand gold pieces will do?"

Stunned, Greywulf took a second to regain his composure, then uttered, "Ten thousand? Not to be ungrateful, but isn't that a lot for simple monster hunting?"

Firkraag laughed and said, "I pay my help well. I am sure you will earn every piece. Is it a deal?"

"Very well. Where is this land?" Greywulf said, shaking Firkraag's hand.

"My land is in the Windspear hills. Come at your earliest convience, but no real hurry. I can wait as long as necessary." Firkraag's thin lipped smile widened as his hand tightened, squeezing just a bit harder than Greywulf would have liked before he let go, striding out of the bar.

After he had left, Greywulf turned to his companions and asked, "Well? What do you guys think?"

"Jierdan Firkraag. I've heard of him around here in Amn. Not reputed to be the nicest noble, but then again, who is?" Yoshimo commented.

"It is too good an offer to be without a catch of some sort." Jaheira said firmly. "I suggest we hold off on taking his offer until we can learn more about this Firkraag. We could wait for this Nalia to come back, or check out the circus in the Promenade."

After considering his options for a bit, Greywulf concluded, "All right. We'll head to the circus, explore a bit and then head back here."

Even as the four adventurers left the Coronet, a pair of red eyes watched them leave, slowly disappearing into the slums of Athkatla. Jierdan Firkraag's eyes narrowed, a vicious grin blossoming on his face. The faint echoes of his malevolent chuckling could be heard as he disappeared as well, the shadows slowly enveloping him...

X X X X X X X

Jon Irenicus sat in his magical cell, the bars flaring and flaming with the energy within them. As several Cowled Wizards walked by, most avoiding eye contact, Irenicus' face bore a barely suppressed grin.

"Weak-minded fools." he muttered. "They think to contain me within this pathetic cage? These magical wards and spells are no match for my power."

As he spoke he closed his eyes briefly, feeling the magical energies building within him. _Just a few more days, a week at the most. _Irenicus thought. _Then, my power will be great enough to not only break free but destroy all who stand in my way. Finally, I will be able to accomplish what I have been planning all along. Sweet revenge... Greywulf, Imoen, if you only knew what I had in store for you two._

_Author's Post Script: In case anyone was wondering, the incident with the Detonation Arrows and fireballs I was referring to is that group of enemies you fight right before Sarevok in the Undercity who just happen to have an archer with those arrows. Took me six fireballs to kill them all, after I'd tried a dozen times... Rotten detonation arrows, killing my BG1 party in like three seconds time after time... _


	12. Part 1: Juggling Power

_Author's Note: Hmm... good point, Ztin. I never understood the whole troll-in-slaver compound thing either. Guards, maybe... big nasty ones who'd probably eat the slavers as soon as look at them. Hey, I never said slavers were smart. _

Greywulf gazed down at the bodies of the men who had just tried to kill him and the others... ambushing them amidst the streets of Athkatla on the way to the Promenade. The ambush had quickly backfired though, the four 'victims' proving quite a bit tougher than their attackers had originally believed. "More slavers." Yoshimo tsked, gathering any money he could find from the fallen. "We should have been more careful... there will undoubtedly be a price on our heads for the liberation of the Coronet and what we did at the other slaving compound."

"I suppose they just couldn't let it go, now could they." Greywulf shook his head. "Doesn't matter, anyway. We've had prices on our heads for as long as we've been adventuring. Nothing new here."

"Still, you are more at risk from attackers in this city than others." Jaheira frowned as she approached him, gesturing to the long cut on his left arm that was beginning to stain his sleeve red. "Not that I doubt your skills with a quarterstaff..."

"But I'm not exactly Minsc when it comes to melee combat, I know." Greywulf growled, turning to Yoshimo. "Any idea how to get a magic license around here?"

Yoshimo thought for a second and then said, "Most likely, you would have to speak with the Cowled Wizard representative in the Administration building of the Government district. As for how to actually attain one, I imagine it is the same with everything in the City of Coin: gold, and lots of it."

"Which we don't have." Greywulf responded, shaking his head in disgust as he rolled up his sleeve, Jaheira wrapping a bandage around it swiftly. "Jaheira, remind me to stock up on bandages at the next temple we find."

"Or you could just avoid getting hurt, _correct_?" Jaheira's voice rose in intensity as she abruptly tied the bandage tight, Greywulf gritting his teeth with a forced smile. "Yes, Jaheira... that too. Shall we get moving?"

Waukeen's Promenade was still a flurry of guards and workers, moving tirelessly to remove the gigantic piles of smoldering rubble. Progress had been made, true, but the devastation and remnants of the war between Irenicus and the Shadow Thieves was still very much visible. Not knowing if the guards would blame them for the damages or attempt to apprehend them on some other charge of involvement, they did their best to stay out of sight from the constantly patrolling guards at the clean-up site while they made their way towards the brightly colored tents and animal cages that sat erected a short distance from the center of the Promenade. "Strange. Nobody seems to be around... this whole mess was around a week ago, surely business would have returned by now." Greywulf commented.

"Don't count on it." Yoshimo warned. "The guild war has made people a bit more... flighty. Events like this do nothing to ease their minds and only tighten the holds they have on their coin purses, sadly."

"That's the second time you've mentioned a guild war, Yoshimo. What're you talking about?"

"Eh... it is a complicated matter, Greywulf." Yoshimo shrugged. "The hold of the Shadow Thieves on this city is very strong, but it has weakened as of late. Another guild, striking from the darkness and with great power has taken the Shadow Thieves by surprise. This has not been tried in many years... though all other such attempts were summarily defeated. This new guild has taken almost a third of the city already and pushes ever on, slaughtering Shadow Thief and civilian alike."

"Perhaps Irenicus was the head of this new guild?" Greywulf frowned. "It would explain some of the things we heard the Shadow Thieves say in his dungeon-"

"Hey! Can't you folks read?! The signs say that this circus is closed... you'll have to come back until this disturbance has been resolved."

The time they had spent talking about the guild war had led their path straight towards the big top of the circus, apparently passing a number of warning signs placed by the angry looking guard who blocked their passage now. "Just keep on moving, we've enough problem without nosy citizens sticking their heads in places they don't belong."

"Actually, we heard there was something wrong around here; just what kind of disturbance are you talking about?" Greywulf asked, peering around the man to the entrance of the tent, though he could only see blackness within.

The guard sighed in exasperation before finally speaking up, apparently hoping that the adventurers before him would leave if their curiosity was satisfied. "We don't really know, all right? One minute the tent was fine, the next it swallowed everything inside. Nothing's come out what's gone in and since this is magic and under the Cowled Wizards' jurisdiction, our hands are tied until they get here to resolve this. That could take forever, what with their 'important matters' to take care of and all. Damn wizards…"

"No one has come out at all?" asked Yoshimo, trying to bring the guard back to focus.

"Didn't you hear me! I said... er, well, there is one man." the guard muttered grumpily, gesturing over to the far end of the tents where a visibly shaken man sat by the animal cages. "He managed to run out just as it started, but good luck getting anything out of him. Nuts if you ask me... kept babbling on and on about people melting and changing into monsters, go bother him if you want to talk some more."

"Minsc and Boo are heroes of the highest order! We will find out what causes the circus to stop giving out the food, drinks and entertaining clowns that Minsc desires to see!" the ranger declared.

"What Minsc means is that we've done our fair share of mercenary work... if you let us in we'll try to take care of this for you." Greywulf explained, Minsc nodding vigorously.

"Mercenaries my lily-white... all right, go ahead." he snarled before stalking off, calling behind him, "Just don't expect us to come help you when you get yourselves killed."

Minsc began to stride boldly in before Greywulf grabbed him and pointed out, "Er, Minsc...don't you think we'd better check with that guy who escaped first? We need all the information we can get before we go wandering around in a magical darkness where people reportedly melt and turn into monsters."

"I would tend to agree." Yoshimo remarked, shifting the weight of the quiver on his back. "If the city guard can't handle it, we must be doubly careful."

"Look, maybe somebody else around here knows more. Just in case this guy can't tell us anything, Minsc, you and Yoshimo ask around while Jaheira and I talk to this guy. Besides, if he's really nuts then having four heavily armed strangers approach might be a bit much."

"As opposed to letting Jaheira talk to him?" Yoshimo snickered softly, deftly avoiding the death glare she shot him as he and Minsc departed.

Greywulf also made certain not to show any signs of amusement at Yoshimo's last comment; her small looks at him more than enough to let him know that her hand was ready to smack him should he so much as smile. Their shadows fell across the man's downcast head, his bloodshot eyes wide as he snapped his head up, nearly tipping the chair backwards as he looked upon the druid and sorcerer.

"AHHH!!" the man screeched, "You'll not take me, foul demon! I know who you-"

Jaheira leaned down and slapped his cheek lightly, the man blinking several times before he looked at them, his demeanor calming slightly. "O-oh. Please, forgive me... you are no monster. I am sorry for my manner... I am slightly flustered right now."

"Slightly?" Greywulf asked dryly, prompting a shush from Jaheira.

"Tell us about what happened at the tent, we want to help." Jaheira prodded.

"I g-guess so. I'll start at the beginning... I'm Harlowe the animal trainer. I was in the tent just as the show was about to start but the show was delayed; nobody could find Castin, he was supposed to go on next with his trick archery act. I heard somebody on stage then, the crowd started laughing... then shouting, and... and things began to change! The inside of the tent got dark and the animals changed! They turned into monsters, even the people! I panicked and ran, the last thing I heard was the ringmaster, Quayle, telling people to remain calm. I... I should have done something, tried to help, but I was so frightened, I just-"

"You would have befallen the same fate as the others. Trying to be a hero would probably have killed you, if not worse." Jaheira cut him off brusquely. "Wait here and do not return or attempt any kind of action until we have emerged from the tent."

Jaheira turned on her heel and left the man behind, Greywulf following closely. "You know, you might work on your bedside manner a bit." Greywulf pointed out as they stopped next to the big top, sitting in a few abandoned chairs, most likely the former spots of ticket sellers.

She looked at him strangely, Greywulf sighing and waving it off. "Never mind; what do you think? Illusions, maybe? Enchantments?"

"Illusions, more likely." Jaheira frowned. "Only the inside of the tent has been altered... though I would not underestimate the power of this threat."

"All right then... I think we've heard enough. We wait until Minsc and Yoshimo return and head in."

A few minutes passed, the only sound that of the shouts and orders coming from the workers in the distance, still clearing rubble. Jaheira's voice abruptly came aloud in a rather wistful tone, "It... it has been some time since I have been this far south, anywhere near Athkatla. Perhaps six or seven years, truth be told. I recall working with Gorion here some years ago, alongside our group of Harpers. It was strange to see him in action; he was always a bit out of place away from his books, but…"

She trailed off, glancing over at Greywulf as his mind clouded with thoughts of his foster father. Seeing the distant look in his eyes, she coughed once, "Forgive me if I caused you any pain with such words... small talk was my intent, though I fear I am not very good at it. I did not wish to cause you any distress if I have."

Greywulf's face quickly became alert, shaking his head no. "You did not; two friends should be able to remember old companions and family without the specter of grief always over them. I try not to remember Gorion with sadness, despite his end."

"That is good... he would not have wished his memory to cause pain, that is not the type of man he was.. I…I like to think the same is true of Khalid."

Looking at Jaheira's eyes and seeing memories flashing across them, most of them undoubtedly containing Gorion and Khalid, Greywulf said quietly, "He was a fine man, despite... or maybe even because of his cautious nature. They both were."

"Yes, though they took risks when necessary. Khalid lived well and would not allow me to do otherwise. Neither hesitated when something had to be done... they each fought in their own way, whether on the battlefield or behind the scenes. Gorion was all for danger if it would prove fruitful."

"Rules that are meant to be broken and all that... bending the means to fit the situation." Greywulf said, remembering his foster father and his ways of living. "He was teaching me once about paladins; I remember asking him how after one swore such oaths to your fellows, an ideal, a god... how one could break them and become fallen. He told me that the difference was not so much pointed out in paladins, but in all men; that the true measure of a man was shown under pressure, that when all you have left is your convictions... can you adapt and yet remain yourself? Can you know when the boundary must be pushed and how far you can push until it pushes back with the force to obliterate everything you hold dear? He told me that everyone must answer that question at a pivotal point in their life; that it will forever determine your path."

"And have you answered it?" Jaheira asked.

He was silent for a few seconds before turning to her with a wry smile. "Not yet... not even close."

She seemed to study him for a few more moments, then returned the smile. Glancing past him she noted their two companions approaching. "Perhaps you will be closer before this is over; here come Yoshimo and Minsc."

The two of them stood to greet their companions, Yoshimo quickly filling them in. "We found a child whose mother was going to take him in to see an illusionist... he was separated from her in the crowd and by the time he got to the entrance of the big top, the tent had already swallowed her and everybody else inside."

"We cannot let this go unpunished, Greywulf." Minsc shook his head. "We must teach this villain a thing or three about keeping their hands off people's parents, and my sword will do the teaching!"

"An illusionist... we got the same kind of impression from the animal trainer who escaped." Greywulf exhaled, glancing at the tent opening. "If it _is_ mostly an illusion, then we shouldn't be in too much danger. Let's move."

"Hmm… a darkened tent filled with illusionary magic and unknown peril. No danger indeed." Yoshimo chuckled as the four companions were swallowed by the darkness.

X X X X X X X

The small gnome sulked angrily in his quarters, growling at nobody in particular as he threw one of his on-stage props across the room. He had been so sure it would work; he had practiced the spell until it was perfect and thought for days on how to fit the act together around it; he had gone out, performed, and like all the times before... the spell fizzled. He panicked. The act flopped. The people booed. The people laughed. The people jeered. And Kalah the Magnificent, like always, was driven off the stage, humiliated for the umpteenth time since he had joined this rathole of a circus. He stalked about his room, imagining the oh-so-sympathetic looks of the other trainers and acts, at least those who felt it necessary to feign some kindness for him. Most of them were kind enough to laugh in front of him rather than wait until his back was turned. The worst of course was that elf Quayle kept around as his 'niece,' her soft words and gentle tones always **_so_** caring and **_so_** consoling... and even she must be mocking him, he knew it could not be any different.

It was all Quayle's fault... he spat a curse as he hopped up on a stool and clenched his fists. The ringmaster just kept assuring him "you'll get it, you'll master it, just a bit more time..." Of course he could say it, all he had to do was get up on a platform and announce the acts, he had no idea of the pressure, no clue of how hard he tried and tried... he hated him. Hated him for the easy job, the easy praise and cheers he got, for merely standing and saying a few words. Hated how he got the praise Kalah deserved. Hated how that elf-girl doted on him all the time, clinging to him like a fawning-

A whisper of breeze that flapped the opening of his tent quarters turned his head abruptly, a slender figure standing at the entrance, cloaked and hooded in black robes. He frowned, his small beard and face scrunching in distaste and anger. _More tallfolk, come to laugh at the spectacle gnome. _"Who are you? What are you doing in my tent?" he demanded.

"Such a hostile tone, Kalah... have you no manners? Oh... perhaps you left them on stage with your dignity." the voice was feminine and chuckled softly, though there was an edge, a steel behind it that was just audible. Still... Kalah's fury burned as he listened to her laughter. "Get out! Out, now!"

"Perhaps you will change your tune after you hear what I have to offer you, gnome." the figure replied, all pretense at humor leaving. "I saw your attempts at magic today... it was interesting, to say the least. Still, I sense talent within you. All it needs is a little... help."

"What are you talking about?" his eyes narrowed, still wishing the strange woman would just leave. "You don't think I can spellcas-"

"Oh, I know you can... but is that all you want? To be the sideshow clown in a circus of fools, your magic put on display for the amusement of peasants and idiots while Cowled Wizards view you as a criminal waiting to make a mistake?" she gestured outside. "No... you and I both know that you want more. You want respect, wealth... power. The power to silence your tormentors, to quiet your so-called peers and command their respect!"

"Power..." Kalah murmured, glancing at the ground as he ran the word through his head. "I... you still haven't told me what this is about! You could be some raving lunatic!"

"I could be..." the figure shrugged, "But I'm not. And what I'm offering you is no small thing. Do you see this ring?"

Kalah's eyes widened as he looked at the small onyx band that seemingly appeared from nowhere in the figure's hand. It seemed to glow in the dim light, and even for one as weak in the magical arts as Kalah... the power radiating from it was almost overwhelming in its intensity. "What-"

"What is it?" she interrupted. "A trinket... but a powerful one. Forged by the combined magics in the languages of both dragon and giant, this amplifies the powers of any mage a hundred fold... giving the power to grant the wishes and dreams of any who wield it. You ask what this is, Kalah? Power. This is power... and it can be yours."

Kalah could scarce take his eyes from the enticing ring... it called to him, pulled at the very fiber of his being, though somewhere in his conscious mind still existed a rational thinker; he forcibly pulled his gaze back up at the shadowed face of the visitor. "What's the catch?!" he snapped. "What do you want from me?"

"You are wise... there is one task I require of you should I entrust this ring to you." she motioned for him to come, and he did, the tall woman pulling open the flaps of his tent to look out at another tent. Several hay bales were set up and a man about twenty or twenty-one had a bow drawn, shooting targets with blinding speed. "Tell me, Kalah... do you know who that boy is?"

"Of course I do, he's Castin; he does trick shots as an act." Kalah explained bitterly. _And is praised for doing what any fool adventurer could do._

"And tell me, where does he comes from? Where was he born, who was his... father?"

"I don't know." Kalah thought for a moment. "He's an orphan... never told us if he knows."

"Mmm... he's good at what he does." the figure said softly, watching a moment longer. "Almost... unnaturally good, perhaps? A trick of his... say, lineage? Nevertheless, I require a deed from you, Kalah. Do this for me, and I will give you the ring...I want you to kill Castin."

"Kill him?" Kalah's eyes widened. "What... Why?!"

"Do you really need to know? Or rather, why not?" she shrugged. "Has he not tormented you as well, made your life miserable as he stole the glory that should have been yours? Do you owe him anything, anything to stop you from achieving ultimate power?"

Part of Kalah's mind screamed at him, screamed that this woman was crazy, she wanted him to murder... but there was another part. Another part that argued against what he told himself; she wanted him to kill an innocent young boy-_but look what she's offering_-there's no way he could just kill Castin-_he would never suspect me, I could just walk right up_-the boy had done nothing wrong-_he laughed just the same every time my spells failed_-killing him would be wrong-_killing him would be right_-I can't-_I can-_I shouldn't-_I should_-I won't...

"Why... why don't you do it?! If the ring is so powerful, why don't you kill him?" Kalah asked hoarsely, trying to keep his thoughts and actions under control.

"Oh, I could... and with no need for this ring, either." she mused. "But it would be...unwise. My friends and I are not yet... prepared, to reveal ourselves. This Castin is one of a certain breed... a breed which cannot be made aware of our presence, our intentions yet. We need someone unknown... someone like you, Kalah."

Kalah trembled, his hands shaking as he glanced back at the opening of the tent, his mind and heart racing. The woman knelt down, taking the gnome's trembling hand and opening it. She pressed the ring into his palm, smiling knowingly at him. "Here... I even offer you the ring to kill him with. You feel its power, don't you? Can you truly resist it?"

Kalah's willpower, the last remnants of his strength and conscience faded quickly, the ring's power totally and completely overwhelming him... "And you... you promise I'll have it? Power, all of my own?" he whispered, looking at the woman.

"I promise you will have your own kingdom, a world where every man and woman is beholden to you alone, Kalah." she whispered intensely. "Just one deed... kill him. Kill him now."

He did not speak... he could only nod meekly, giving his assent. She smiled, then turned on her heel, beginning to stalk out..."Wait!"

She turned, Kalah staring at her in what appeared as a mixture of morbid curiosity and fear as he pointed the ring at her. "You will tell me...who... who are you?"

"Who am I? You are bold to think you can command me in any way, gnome, ring or not." She appeared to consider whether to act against him, but in an instant she tossed back her hood, revealing her glowing yellow eyes and the short black hair that encircled the Bhaal-tattoos on her face. The sight froze Kalah for a moment before she pulled her hood back on, walking out as she hissed behind her. "I am Illasera. Now go and kill... then you will have everything I promised you."

The memory of how he had gained his power flashed through his memory, Kalah's face twisting in a contorted grin as he sat upon his throne. The boy had indeed been easy to kill... though he had felt sick when it was over. The woman was gone by then, but Kalah had sworn not to kill, only to improve his act, to make things better for himself... he had taken the stage once more, assured of himself in his newfound power; but on stage the crowds still had no respect, they laughed again despite his power, his rage had flared... but this time he could do something about it. This time he could silence their jeers, could bring them low and see how they liked the torture and the pain he had endured... and with each murdered tormentor, Kalah came to realize... it was not murder. It was justice, that's all. Anyone who opposed his rule deserved to die. Their lives were meaningless. He was Kalah, and he ruled over all, the ringmaster, the elf-girl... they would serve, or they would die.

X X X X X X

"That's interesting." Yoshimo whispered, craning his head up to take in the massive sight before them.

Upon entering the tent, magic and darkness had overwhelmed their senses; when their vision had cleared they found themselves upon a long walkway of obsidian and blue marble that spanned an abyss below them. The path led about a hundred yards away to a structure so twisted and warped it was almost painful to look at. Still, if a comparison had to be made it resembled the bottle of a djinni, twists and curves swarming all over the structure's ebony finish. More unbelievable was the sheer size of the void they found themselves suspended in and above, the world of darkness much greater in size than the Promenade itself, much less the tent they were supposed to be in. Minsc drew the Sword of Chaos to the ready, taking lead alongside Greywulf while Yoshimo and Jaheira hung back a bit further, eyes alert in this world of magic and illusion.

Their path was quickly impeded, a figure materializing before them to block further progress. An ogre of massive size stood before them, wielding the standard club most of their kind preferred in battle. Minsc raised his sword, though his reaction time was just a bit slow. The club swung out and impacted solidly against his chest, sending him tumbling back into Yoshimo, Jaheira narrowly avoiding becoming a part of that tangle of arms and bodies. Greywulf raised his hands to perform a quick incantation... but before his spell could complete the sound and flash of a spell trigger- _coming from the ogre?!_ - ignited, blinding him and leaving him with vision that swirled and thudded as he struggled to regain his senses. He barely heard a second spell blaze into existence, the sizzling sound of a lightning bolt unmistakable right before the sound of it crackling as it swarmed over flesh. He could barely hear Jaheira's cry of pain and subsequent drop as she clattered to the ground, her plate mail with a large black spot on the breastplate. _How... ogre casting spells? Illusion, must be-_

Minsc roared in fury as he climbed to his feet, Yoshimo rising quickly after, taking aim with his bow at the advancing ogre. Jaheira was motionless, lying before the ogre's massive bulk and upraised club. Minsc saw the danger and rushed in, his sword flashing just swiftly enough to block the attack, the club bearing down on Minsc's sword. Yoshimo cursed as Minsc struggled against the beast, the ranger blocking the clean shot he had been given; he tried to skirt around the side as he moved up, but another word of power seemed to come from nowhere, a burst of what looked like divine flame belching forth from the air, almost immolating Minsc had he not disengaged at the last minute. Still, Yoshimo's target was clear now, the ogre's unprotected chest within view; Yoshimo drew back and aimed swiftly...

Greywulf's voice interrupted, his spell of True Sight hazing everything over for a brief moment. The entire world abruptly became a swirl of color and cloth, bodies and circus chairs scattered everywhere... but it quickly returned to the expanse it had been moments before. What was more interesting though was what the ogre had flashed into; a young elf maiden with a look of terror and horror on her face, a quarterstaff in her hand that she was pointing at Minsc. It was enough for Yoshimo to hesitate... and it cost him. One of the ogres hands came up; a flurry of magic missiles spewed out, knocking Yoshimo off his feet.

"What in the- an elf?!" Jaheira whispered as she raised herself up on elbow, the ogre before her returning its fearsome gaze to the downed druid.

"You saw it? Dispel, now!" Greywulf cried out, his eyes clenched shut even as he made his incantations, still blinded.

Jaheira did not hesitate, swiftly summoning her own powers of Dispel as the ogre swung its club down... it stopped in midswing, the power of Greywulf and Jaheira both slamming into the ogre. The vision of the ogre swirled and mingled with the backdrop of the elf within, her face contorting in a massive internal struggle; her eyes widened as her mouth opened, despite no sound issuing... a green flash ignited from her own hands, one more dispel summoned by the elf herself.

For a moment, nothing happened. Then, an explosion of magic knocked Jaheira back down, sending Greywulf and Minsc stumbling away as well. The image of the ogre finally vanished to give way to a blonde-haired, pretty young elf; she no longer held a club halfway down to striking Jaheira but a simple quarterstaff. The elf blinked once, as though realizing she was herself once more. She swayed on her feet for a moment, taking in everything at once... before her eyes rolled back as she collapsed into unconsciousness, falling with a thud upon Jaheira.


	13. Part 1: Innocence Gained

_Author's Note: Sorry about the wait for this chapter posting... but a great big thank you to all those who've been reviewing! I've been thinking of awarding points, you know, like the ones they give out on "Whose Line Is It Anyway?"... which, just in case someone tries to sue me for using the official name, I also own nothing of. _

They say that one of the main things that lets you know you're alive is pain... it was no exception for the young elf as her senses slowly returned to her aching and weary body. Granted, the main sensation she felt was soreness and throbbing limbs, but it was enough to let her know she wasn't already in the afterlife; a possibility she had considered quite real when the four strangers had appeared, unable to prevent herself from attacking them.

She tried to move her arms, to stretch the sore muscles that ached in her body... but she could not. With a growing sense of alarm, she was quick to discover that her arms could not move, neither could her legs, or any of her body. She panicked, imagining that her final memories of breaking through the enchantment placed upon her were false, only a torment upon her mind, but as the rest of her senses returned it became clear she was not under the spell any longer. Her current situation, however, did not appear all that much better.

"Do you... idea to ke... should be able to..."

"Can... take risk?"

The garbled bits of conversation she was able to make out did little to ease her mind, even as she felt another of her senses come back, though it was a most unpleasant sensation she could have done without. What tasted like some sort of a gag was running through her mouth and by quick reasoning she concluded that her limbs were not immobile because of magic or spellcraft; she was simply tied up. The brief feeling of relief she had felt when realizing she was no longer under the spell was now gone and her heart once again thudded in fear, eyes fluttering open as she tried to find some sort of release...

"Enough of this; she awakens." the tall female with a proud bearing glared down at the wide-eyed elf, a frown creasing her brow. A younger half-elf stood opposite her, though his fiery look of disapproval appeared more directed at the druid rather than her.

"For pity's sake Jaheira, I think we can at least take the gag out!"

"She nearly decimated our party before we could lay a hand on her." Jaheira frowned. "Do we truly want a repeat performance? She appears to be herself again, but I refuse to take risks that can be avoided with simple precautions."

"Precautions are all well and good, but... perhaps we might at least let her speak for herself." Yoshimo prodded. "True, she cannot make incantations if gagged like this, but it also makes it a bit hard for her to tell us what exactly is going on here."

"Boo does not think she looks like a villain. See? She is a witch like Dynaheir; not an evildoer who needs a thrashing." Minsc declared. True enough, Minsc's words held some merit. She was certainly not what one would consider an imposing sort; between her petite frame, the azure colored robes that adorned her figure and the blonde braids her hair was tied in... well, she wasn't exactly Sarevok.

Jaheira did not respond, she merely sighed and gestured to Greywulf. He nodded and knelt down beside her, her eyes tracking him with fear. "Look... I know you're probably wondering why we have you all trussed up like this, but we just had to make sure of a few things; namely that you wouldn't try to kill us when you woke up. I'm just going to remove this now-"

Greywulf pulled the gag from her mouth, the elf sputtering as the rag was removed. "Yeah, sorry about that. I hope I can assume you're not going to try and blast us with all manner of spells now, mostly because I'd never hear the end of it from Jaheira-"

Another upraised arm from the druid quickly stopped any more wisecracks from the sorcerer as he coughed once, turning serious. "Like I said, a few questions; you know, who are you, what's going on, just what do you remember from a few minutes ago, that kind of thing..."

The girl struggled to find her voice, still almost overcome with fear and doubt, unsure of what had just happened, who these folks were, what they-

"Come girl, we don't have much time. Speak if you have something to say!" Jaheira snapped.

"Aerie!" she cried, finally forcing herself to speak. "M...my name's Aerie, I'm an Avariel..."

Her voice trailed off quickly; Greywulf sighing in exasperation. There was no way they would find anything out from the girl while she was still so paralyzed. Pushing past Jaheira he quickly untied her bonds, freeing her arms and legs as the girl rubbed her wrists gingerly, looking at Greywulf with a mix of gratitude and fear.

"There... sorry about all of this; but you have to admit, you did quite a number on us to begin with." he said as gently as he could manage.

"Indeed." Jaheira growled, glancing down at the blackened spot on her plate mail.

Glaring at the druid, Greywulf turned back to Aerie, exhaling with a smile. "Look... we're not exactly sure what's happened here or what you've been through, but it's obviously been quite the ordeal. I can also understand if you don't particularly trust us right now, seeing as all we've done in the way of introductions is fight and tie you up while unconscious, but believe me... we're here to help." He stood, extended one hand to help her up.

Aerie blinked once as she gazed at Greywulf, as though trying to decide whether to trust the half-elf... her small hand reached out tentatively and grasped his, the sorcerer quickly pulling her to her feet.

"W-who are you?" Aerie asked, glancing at the band of four that stood before her, her gaze not lingering on any of them overlong, though it was especially quick when passing over Jaheira's distrusting face.

"Ahem...Yoshimo, Master Thief at your service, should you need anything." the Kara-Turan man deftly slid past Greywulf to bow to Aerie, taking her hand with a gentle kiss, the elf quite unsure what to make of it.

"Yes, yes... that's Yoshimo." Greywulf sighed, nudging the man aside. "Over there's Minsc, Jaheira, and I am Greywulf. We were investigating what happened to your circus, when... eh, we got a little sidetracked; what with the whole ogre attack and all."

"Ogre attack...?" Aerie frowned a moment, before her eyes opened wide with realization. "Oh! Oh, please forgive me, I could not control-"

"No, it's fine." Greywulf interrupted her apology mid-stride, waving her down. "No harm done... except to our pride, maybe. If you truly desire to make it up, you can tell us what you know about this place, or better yet, what the hell is going on here."

"It's Kalah; he's behind all this!" Aerie cried in desperation, all the terrible memories flooding back. "We were... well Castin was, he was supposed to take the stage, but Kalah was filling in since we couldn't find him. He's never been very good at magic, but this time he was better... really good, in fact. The audience didn't seem to care, they just wanted to laugh, and so they did... Kalah got mad, he said things I couldn't hear, and the whole tent began changing! He captured everyone, and... and turned me into that ogre! We have to stop him, he still has Uncle Quayle inside!"

"Who is this Kalah?" Jaheira questioned.

"He's an illusionist gnome... but he should never have been able to do something like this..." Aerie said, nervously glancing back at the structure behind them. "He's in there... all the performers and Quayle, all of them are trapped in there with him."

"If what you say is true, than we will find a way to free this place. Wait here until we return... with any luck, the next time you see us we'll be back in a circus tent." Greywulf nodded briefly, waving the others on towards Kalah's palace.

Aerie watched their retreating forms for a moment; she could barely believe it... four men and women out to save her and her circus for the sole purpose of helping others... No. She wasn't a warrior, she had never been in a battle until just now and it was quite clear that Jaheira didn't like her... but she had to. Quayle was in danger and needed her help. She called out, her mouth suddenly dry. "Wait! I... I could help you... I could help you find Kalah, stop him. I've been studying as a mage all my life, and... and I've also studied as a cleric-"

"Nonsense. We do not have the time to watch over and take responsibility for some girl who believes she is an adventurer because she can cast a few spells." Jaheira said abruptly.

"Jaheira, if you hadn't noticed, those 'few spells' were enough to wipe the floor with us a few minutes ago." Greywulf countered. "She's obviously talented in both divine and arcane magic-"

"And when her opponents believe her to be an ogre with nothing more than a club for defense, those spells will be very effective in taking them by surprise." Jaheira said through gritted teeth. "Look at her; she has no experience in the world or on the path we lead."

"Neither did I, when you and Khalid first watched over me and Imoen." Greywulf responded. "But if you really feel so bad about this, let's ask the others. Minsc? Yoshimo?"

"Her skills are impressive indeed." Yoshimo admitted. "I would not be adverse to her accompanying us."

"Another witch in our company would be most welcome, yes!" Minsc nodded eagerly. "She is just what we need; Boo is never wrong about these things."

Aerie could not help but stare a bit as Minsc mumbled something else to his hamster, but Greywulf quickly got her attention once more. "That's it then; consider yourself one of us, for the moment at least. Follow close, and stay behind Minsc and Jaheira."

"Really? Thank you!" Aerie said in surprise, a look of what could only be construed as part determination, part naivete on her face. "I'll do the best I can, I promise."

"Do as you will, but I cannot say I approve." Jaheira said, ending the conversation with a sharp glance at Aerie.

Unable to keep a look of embarrassment off her face, Aerie quietly slunk into the line behind Yoshimo, fingering her quarterstaff nervously. The five of them moved quickly, reaching the entrance to the grotesque structure swiftly. The door opened at their touch, but what lay inside was a different matter. A maze of stairways, walkways and portals leading seemingly nowhere and yet everywhere at once pulsed and spun within, a vortex of confusion that hurt to even look at. Forcing the door closed with effort, Minsc wiped his brow and glanced down at the others. "What now?"

"It would take us several lifetimes to navigate through such a maze... more so since Kalah himself will no doubt be controlling our path the whole time. Our odds of reaching him would not exactly be favorable." Yoshimo noted.

"We can't give up, there must be some way of getting through!" Aerie protested.

"I bet there is..." Greywulf turned to face Jaheira. "When I cast the True Sight spell, you mentioned seeing Aerie underneath the illusion of an ogre. Did you see anything else around? Was it just Aerie or did the whole tent become visible for a bit?"

"It... it did appear real for a moment... just a brief second." Jaheira frowned. "The illusion was too powerful for the True Sight to affect anything for a length of time, but yes, I saw the tent begin to come back into focus."

"Kalah will never let us reach him willingly; let's see if we can't surprise him." Greywulf smiled. "Aerie, what does Kalah look like?"

"He's a gnome... a dark beard and brown robes with a black sash. He never smiles... you'd know him as soon as you saw him."

"Let's hope so." Greywulf turned to Yoshimo. "Best get ready, you'll probably only have one shot at this before he realizes what we're doing and puts a stop to it."

Yoshimo nodded as he put an arrow to his bow and raised the weapon high, ready to be fired at a moment's notice. Greywulf took a deep breath and began chanting, summoning the magic of True Sight... as his voice echoed, the world around rippled and hazed, a disturbing mixture of illusion and reality mingling within their vision for a brief span of time. Five sets of eyes darted back and forth as quickly as possible, trying to spy the one behind this chaos...

"There! The evil gnome is there!" Minsc's booming cry brought Yoshimo spinning around in a blur, trying to aim through the blurred shapes and figures that were rapidly returning to the illusionary forms Kalah had summoned...

His arrow launched with the twanging of the bow string, the telltale sound of an arrow piercing flesh sounding to their ears along with a cry of pain. The world pulsed again, revealing a brief glimpse of the injured gnome. Though he was injured, Yoshimo's shot had been slightly off, the arrow was sticking out of his left thigh, the frenzied look on Kalah's face enough to show that he was not nearly through fighting. Still, perhaps they could end it here...

All five of them charged towards him but at the last second the world flashed again, a throne room where no longer a gnome but a giant of monstrous proportions stood, flanked by shadows and wolves. "You will never escape this place!" Kalah roared, spittle flying from his mouth. "Shadows, Fiends! Come to me! Slaughter them and feast on their remains!"

The response was swift, dozens of shadows seemed to spill from nowhere, all swarming over each other towards the five adventurers. A fireball scattered the majority of oncoming undead, Greywulf moving behind Minsc as the ranger struck, cutting down each enemy as it came within range. Across from him stood Jaheira, struggling to advance at Kalah as the shadows kept her contained, Aerie striking down illusions left and right with her magics.

Another arrow flew past the giant, a rushing shadow just enough to throw off Yoshimo's aim from striking Kalah in the chest. He had been forced to dodge and draw his own blade to defend himself, Kalah quickly directing his own wrath at the thief. An Acid Arrow hurtled at Yoshimo, Aerie crying out a warning as she hastily tried to deflect it. The magical tendril she sent was just fast enough; the spell flew off target, Yoshimo giving her a quick nod of gratitude as he slashed into another enemy.

"You little beast!" Kalah screeched, watching Aerie's interference furiously. His summonings increased in intensity, bringing forth shadows and beasts faster than the five could slay them. Still, in the midst of it all, a lightning bolt conjured by Greywulf sizzled through in a line towards Kalah, destroying all illusions in that road of sight. It was a path, if a small and rapidly closing one.

Jaheira did not hesitate but immediately dived through, rolling past the desperate attacks from the summoned illusions, coming up by Kalah. He tried to stumble backwards at the sudden threat, but to no avail. Jaheira's spear came up quickly, catching Kalah in the gut.

His scream was drowned out as his concentration and spellcraft faded; the howl of wind, rushing as everything imploded upon Kalah, was deafening, a veritable sonic boom going off to drop all of them as the illusions finally faded, disappearing to reveal the tattered remains of a circus tent. Trying to pick themselves up, it was a horrible mess that surrounded them, in more ways than one. Not only were chairs, furniture and the whole ring destroyed, several bodies were scattered, those unfortunate guards and simple peasants and circus performers who had suffered Kalah's deadly wrath. The mortally wounded gnome's rasps and coughs drew their attention, his hand outstretched at them as though still trying to smite them.

"You... you have killed me!!" Kalah spat with dying rage. "This... this isn't what was promised to me, not what I was to be given...you beastly, greedy fools with your thirst for adventure! You have killed Kalah and destroyed my world... my happiness!"

"Your world? Your happiness? What about all those who have been killed, those who have died just so you could have your little imaginary kingdom?"Jaheira growled in anger, looking at the fallen gnome.

"I just wanted to be respected… in Athkatla, a mage is a criminal and a gnome is a spectacle." Kalah whispered, life draining fast. "Just wanted… to be…respected. To show them… what it felt like to be… laughed at."

He said no more, his wounds overtaking him at last... though if any of the five had taken notice, they would have seen the small onyx ring around Kalah's finger flash dimly then crumble, disintegrating unto dust. "Such a poor, pathetic creature. I almost… I do feel sorry for him." Aerie said quietly, looking down at the dead gnome.

"Perhaps we can find something that would have allowed him to create such powerful illusions." Yoshimo murmured, bending down over Kalah's body as he searched him.

"Aerie!" the shout issued from a corner of the tent, Aerie whirling quickly to spot a small gnome in what had used to be fine purple robes, though they were a bit worse for wear now. She darted over to him eagerly, helping him to his feet with gladness on her face and a sigh of relief in her heart. "Uncle Quayle! You're okay!"

"Yes dear... I'm fine. A little shaken, but nothing serious." Quayle adjusted his spectacles and discarded the ruined top hat he had been wearing before grasping Aerie's hand. He took a look around and shook his head in sorrow. "I had no idea Kalah was so disturbed. I should've noticed, should've done something earlier-"

"You did all you could, Uncle." Aerie comforted, walking with him back over to the adventurers.

"I suppose." Quayle sighed, looking down at Kalah's body. "And I must have you four to thank for getting us all out of this mess. I owe you much, friends. Introductions are in order, I should think. I am Quayle, the ringmaster of this circus."

Looking around briefly, Quayle sighed again and said, "Well, what used to be this circus, anyway. I assume you have already met my niece, Aerie?"

"Yes, indeed we have!" Minsc boomed with a grin. "She is a very nice young girl. I think that she would like to meet Boo. Would you be okay with that, Boo?"

"Wait one moment..." Greywulf frowned, a smile creeping on his face, a look of barely suppressed horror growing on Jaheira's as they both made the connection at the same time. "Quayle, you said your name was?"

"Why, yes." the gnome said, peering through his spectacles. "Is something wrong?"

"I do believe, if my memory isn't failing me, that we've met before, near the city of Baldur's Gate." Greywulf grinned. "Almost a year ago, but I'm positive we traveled together for a few days. Do you remember?"

Quayle thought for a moment, then smiled and replied, "Why yes... now that I think about it, you are somewhat familiar. That was near all of the business with the iron shortage and the impending war. I traveled with you for a short time, though your path quickly turned places I was not quite willing to go, as I recall."

"Such a shame." Jaheira forced out, an obviously fake smile plastered on her face. Greywulf couldn't help but snicker just a bit; Jaheira had hated the gnome's presence the entire few days he had traveled with them, more than once he had heard her referring to the gnome as her own personal hell amidst death threats aimed in the illusionist's direction. Granted, Quayle had been quite vocal about making his own opinions known, usually while making some degrading comment about the others' intelligence, but he wasn't quite as bad as Edwin. Besides, Greywulf and Imoen both found him very amusing, especially when it came to tormenting Jaheira. He had never seen her quite so happy as when the gnome had decided(with some considerable persuasion by Minsc, Khalid, and Dynaheir) that the group did not fit his tastes.

Still, the gnome's demeanor was quite different from what he remembered, nary a snide comment having passed from his lips in the nearly two minutes they had been talking; that and the obvious admiration the elven maiden showed for him spoke of at the very least a changed attitude.

"My eternal gratitude to all of you." Quayle bowed. "I fear there is little I can give you for this; though Kalah must have used some magical items to create such illusions. You are welcome to them."

"Thanks... actually, there is one more thing you could do for us, information might benefit us more than gold. Can you tell us anything at all about the Cowled Wizards, such as where they keep their prisoners?"

Quayle raised one eye at the question, obviously surprised. "The Cowled Wizards, did you say? The stuck-up control freaks who think they own this city?"

"Those would be the ones." Greywulf said, smirking slightly. "They have taken a dear friend of mine unjustly and any information you have regarding their prisoners' whereabouts would be greatly appreciated. Imoen, if you remember her."

"Oh yes... the pink haired girl." Quayle mused. "Those meddlers are always messing around into other people's affairs. I have no doubt Imoen is as innocent as you claim, but the Cowled Wizards don't let anyone know where their prisoners are held. I'm sorry."

"Thank you anyway." Greywulf bowed and said, "We're just glad that you two could be reunited... though I imagine you have some rebuilding to do around here. We will take our leave, there is much we still have to do."

"Thank you for all your help; it was... it was good to meet you." Aerie managed, waving slightly at the group as they turned to leave.

Quayle watched her fading smile as the four adventurers stalked away, almost to the exit of the tent... he had been able to see the whole battle from his imprisonment by Kalah. He had watched Aerie with great fear and at the same time intrigue; she had never fought in battle, never engaged in any sort of combat as she had done a few minutes ago. And yet she had, in those few moments he had seen, appeared more alive than in the many years he had spent teaching and caring for her. It was a moment of great pride for him... and long-awaited sadness. Deep down, he had always known this day would come... it was one of the main reasons he had made certain she furthered her training in both clerical and wizardly studies.

He had intended to give up the circus someday, for the two of them to head out on the road... but that dream had faded until it was almost unreachable. He had abandoned the path of adventuring and every year that passed was another year his body grew older, more tired and less willing to bear the strain of returning to such a life. Aerie would never be willing leave his side to go out alone and he was less than thrilled with the idea of her trying to find her place in the world without someone to look out for her... she would have needed his guidance were she to travel. But perhaps... perhaps these four would be her last chance-

"Please, stop!" Quayle's call surprised both Aerie and the four companions about to leave, Greywulf turning as Quayle hurried over to them, Aerie close behind. "I... I have been thinking, and I have come to a conclusion. You four lead a life that I can no longer manage, one that I gave up not long after meeting you. But Aerie..."

Quayle felt his throat tighten as he continued. "Aerie deserves better than the inside of a circus tent for the rest of her life. She has great potential, as both a cleric and a wizard, you saw that much in battle. For me to keep her here with me, looking after a gnome who's only growing older with each day... it wouldn't be fair to you, niece."

"Uncle... w-what do you mean?" Aerie asked, her face splashed with confusion.

"I mean that you should go with Greywulf and his friends... that you should travel with them, should they be willing to have you." Quayle gazed at his surrogate niece, shock registering on her pretty features. "Aerie, you've been a daughter to me and I have tried to be a father to you... but I've taught you everything I can. There's so much more to life than what I can show you, and... and these men and women might just be the way for you to not only discover your place in the world, but to do some good in it as well."

"But... but I-"

"I can't keep you here any longer... and you can't cling to me forever, Aerie. Someday you will have to face your life outside this tent... and I can see no better time and opportunity than with these fine people right now." Quayle smiled weakly as Aerie knelt and embraced him.

"Y-you're the kindest man I've ever met." Aerie whispered, one tear leaving her eye.

"I wasn't always this way, Aerie... you changed me quite a bit, for the better I should hope. I imagine Jaheira would hope so as well, if I remember her reaction to my presence so long ago." Quayle winked at the smirking druid as Aerie straightened up. "Well Greywulf? Would you indulge an old, retired adventurer's request?"

"It's up to Aerie." Greywulf smiled, nodding to Aerie, the elf swallowing visibly. "We travel rather light. Mostly just our weapons and armor, not much in the way of personal belongings. This may not be what you're used to, but the path we tread is not an easy one."

"I...I've always known this day would come; I've been dreading it too. But… you're right. It is time for me to leave." Aerie said to Quayle. "Greywulf, I know I could be of great help if you'll let me come."

Despite a disapproving look from Jaheira, Greywulf nodded and squeezed her shoulder reassuringly, "Aerie, we would welcome you as a permanent addition to our group. Your presence will be greatly appreciated. Quayle, don't worry. Your daughter will be well taken care of."

"Thank you, Greywulf." Quayle said, a sad smile upon his face. "If you'll give us a few moments to gather some items she should bring, to say a few last goodbyes?"

"Of course. Take what time you need." Greywulf nodded as Aerie and Quayle exited to her tent, Yoshimo and Minsc directing one rather dazed looking lady outside, the woman's face blossoming in relief, calling her son's name as she ran outside.

He sighed in a bit of contentment at the final outcome of the whole ordeal, then turned to Yoshimo."So, what did you find on Kalah?"

"A bit of gold, around one hundred pieces, and a few spell scrolls. His dagger had a few enchantments on it too, but nothing powerful enough to summon such illusions."

"Hmm... nothing much we can do about it now that he's dead... if we sell some of this stuff, add that to the total gold we have already, we should have around seven hundred. We're really getting nowhere fast." he sighed.

"I could help out, perhaps add to our coin the best way I know how?" Yoshimo offered, flashing his best smile.

"None of that, Yoshimo. The last thing we need right now is to get the city guard after us."

Yoshimo's face had just dropped in shock of the idea that he could possibly be caught when Aerie came back, a small pack loaded up on her back, her quarterstaff in hand. "Okay, I've got everything I need. I'm ready."

They had just stepped back out into the fading sunlight of the evening when the guard they had run off before approached, tapping Greywulf on the shoulder. "Citizen, I assume you were the group responsible for resolving the situation in there?"

"That is us!" Minsc bellowed proudly. "The team that is Minsc and Boo and Greywulf fights evil wherever we go and we have fought it here, kicking its butt thoroughly! Run free, clowns! Serve food, circus! Juggle ba-"

"That's a yes." Greywulf interjected, stopping Minsc.

Looking at Minsc oddly, the guard turned back to Greywulf and said with a hint of wariness, "As an official guard of Athkatla, I am giving you this reward of five hundred gold pieces for aiding the city. Technically, this was the standard fee paid to the Cowled Wizards for their help in these matters, but since they never showed I'd be more than happy to give it to you instead. I gotta say, none of us expected you to come out again. You were in there for three days."

"Three days? No wonder I'm so tired." Greywulf said with a yawn. "Surprising how time gets messed up when you enter illusionary worlds."

"Yeah well... you all just keep on moving. Now that this mess is over with, we'll have to file reports and probably clean up, so just stay out of trouble." the guard huffed once before leaving them again, Minsc tucking the purse of gold away in his own pack.

"Well, that's another five hundred. We're another one-twentieth there; we'll have twenty thousand in no time. Hell, maybe Irenicus will have died of old age by the time we get to him."

"Irenicus? Who's that? Why do we need-" Aerie asked, confused.

"Twenty thousand gold? To rescue a friend- oh, right, right, you're new here." Greywulf said, nodding as he looked at her. "I forgot to mention a few things. First off, the friend we're trying to rescue is Imoen. Nice girl, but can't cook if her life depended on it. Second, we're hunting an extremely powerful mage named Irenicus, who captured us all in the first place before we escaped from him. Caused the big explosion, all the rubble over there. We're trying to find him and kill him, even though he's in all likelihood many times more powerful than we are. Third, we have to get twenty thousand gold pieces to get the Shadow Thieves' help to find them, and fight the Cowled Wizards who have captured both Imoen and Irenicus. Er… maybe I should have mentioned that before you made a decision to come with us."

Aerie just stared at Greywulf until Yoshimo stepped in, "Don't mind him, Greywulf has the uncanny talent of making the most dire situations seem funny. Still, that is indeed the scope of our quest."

Aerie quickly recovered and responded, "Well, I guess I can help; I don't have as much experience as I'm sure all of you, but I know the Promenade pretty well. There's an inn right over there we can rest at for the night."

"I'm sure you'll do fine... but I agree. Some rest would be fairly welcome right about now. Let's go." Greywulf replied.

They had reached the inn within minutes and rented three rooms, all five companions falling into sleep quickly. Even as the shadows grew longer outside, shadows continued to grow in their own minds and thoughts as well, Greywulf no exception.

X X X X X X X X

Greywulf snapped awake, covered in sweat, his chest heaving. Looking around frantically, he saw not the comforting walls of the inn, but a dark and shadowy realm, covered in the blackness of the void and lit by stars forever out of reach. At his feet lay the bodies of his four companions, each one curled up as though still asleep, but for all Greywulf's efforts they could not be awakened. Standing straight up, Greywulf found himself dressed in his traveling robes, quarterstaff in hand and battle-ready. He looked himself over, trying to make sense of his surroundings... the sound of footsteps approaching jolted him to the ready. Out of the shadows walked a familiar face, one with none of its usual cheer, none of the happiness so often reflected.

"Imoen?" Greywulf asked hesitantly, looking into the somber face of his childhood friend. "Is that you?"

"Greywulf." Imoen spoke, her voice slightly odd. "This is… this is a dream. A dream of…many things. These dreams always mean something… don't they? Follow me."

Greywulf found himself drawn to Imoen and followed her to within view of a bridge crossing a moat. On the bridge stood three men, the mighty wizard Elminster, and the man Jaheira mourned, Khalid. But most haunting was the man between them…

"Gorion?" whispered Greywulf, his head pounding with confusion and hazy memories that distorted his thoughts.

"Do you remember any of them?" asked Imoen. "Gorion… or any of the others at Candlekeep, or the people we once knew? It was so long ago… so many memories fading with his touch. The touch of Irenicus. I tried to keep them, to remember... but it didn't last. It couldn't last. I…I don't remember any of you."

With that, the three figures seemed to stiffen, their features slowly hardening and turning gray until they were all naught but stone statues, cracking and breaking. The statues slowly fell apart, crumbling into dust to open the path. Imoen continued walking, Greywulf inexorably following, unable to stop his movement as he trod over the remains of those he had once known. They continued until the castle of Candlekeep was within view, where Imoen stopped again and began speaking.

"Candlekeep. Gorion. It was so far back. It was… home. They wouldn't take us back now, you know. None of them would, not after Gorion died and they found that you were a Bhaalspawn. That's why we left Baldur's Gate so soon. People feared you, found out you were a Bhaalspawn... in their eyes, you were just as bad as Sarevok. We… we don't have a home."

Imoen turned and kept walking, her words eating at Greywulf's mind, finding himself unable to speak along with lacking the ability to control his movements. The sound of armor shifting together reached his ears as Imoen stopped one more time in the courtyard of the Keep, a fog before them bringing a nameless fear and terror to Greywulf's heart even though he could not see through it. That changed soon enough, an imposing figure in Bhaal-armor striding forward, all too familiar to the sorcerer.

"Do you remember Sarevok?" Imoen asked, gesturing at Greywulf's dead half-brother, the man's glowing yellow eyes still boring down on Greywulf as he stood there, his sword held in both hands. "He seemed so... so important at the time, he did such things, hurt so many people; he had to be stopped. We killed him, stopped him from doing…something, but why? I don't remember… anything."

Sarevok hardened until he had befallen the same fate as Gorion, turning to stone and dust.

Unable to bear the situation any longer, Greywulf turned to Imoen in desperation, only to see her staring at him. "Do you remember me?"

Imoen stopped for a moment to shake her head in sorrow, and said, "Me, Imoen. I can see… I am forgetting you. You... you are forgetting me, whether you know it or not. You will come too late to save me; I can see it. He is coming for me and he awaits you. You… will come too late."

With that, swirls of magic surrounded Imoen, turning her to stone as well.

Suddenly, he found himself able to speak again, shouting Imoen's name, but to no avail. As Greywulf darted to the statue of Imoen in horror, trying with all his might to find some way of dispelling the magic, another figure walked into the light, an arrogant sneer upon his grotesque face.

"Remarkable. She has shown great resilience to the horrors she has endured so far... but she is indeed breaking, as you can see."

Greywulf whirled towards Irenicus in anger, swinging his staff straight at the figure's head, the fury driven strike powerful enough to take any man's head off. The staff whipped straight through Irenicus' head, not affecting him in the least.

"Come now, Greywulf." Irenicus chuckled. "You cannot harm a dream. Try and be sensible."

"Where have you brought me, fiend? Speak!!" Greywulf shouted, seething in anger.

"_Irenicus_ has done nothing, Greywulf." he said pointedly, growling at the sorcerer as the two of them slowly began circling each other, their eyes deadlocked together. "This is your dream... I am but the figure your mind has chosen to speak through. You know that you can never win, don't you? For all the power that you possess, you will always be weaker because you limit yourself to the 'morals' that you live by. Why do you not embrace your past, take the power you are owed, the power I tried to unlock within you!?"

"If you wanted it, then I'm sure I don't." Greywulf said through gritted teeth. "Unlike you, I care for the lives of others, for my friends and loved ones."

"Ha... and while you cling to your pathetic dogma, who are the ones who suffer most? Your friends and your loved ones. You may survive because of your divine blood, but you cannot protect your friends with the power necessary if you do not accept your heritage. Say what you like, but in the end your hands are just as bloodstained as mine. You only have to decide how you will stain your hands... with the blood of your enemies, destroying all who would threaten you and your companions... or with the blood of your friends, whom you were too weak to protect... whom you may as well have killed yourself."

Irenicus glanced at Imoen's stone figure as they stared each other down, then smirked wickedly. "You've already been responsible for two deaths... perhaps three will change your mind."

Irenicus thrust one hand out, a blast of lightning shattering Imoen into hundreds of pieces.

"I'll kill you!!" Greywulf screamed, unleashing an inferno of magical flame upon the dark mage...though as before, the magical flame passed right through the man.

"It is as I said." Irenicus said calmly. "Your friends will suffer because of your lack of power and eventually you will die as well. You have no choice."

"I will not fail them. And I will not become a despicable murderer like you." Greywulf heaved with barely contained rage, trying to steady his shaking hands. "This power you offer, I want none of it."

"Fool." he spat. "You don't know what you speak of. You _will_ accept the gifts offered to you."

A blast of power from Irenicus brought darkness, the screams of his dying friends echoing in his head.


	14. Part 1: Innocence Lost

_Greywulf..._

_Greywulf..._

"Greywulf!!" the shout of Minsc's voice blasted forth through the sorcerer's mind, forcing his mind back from the abyss it had been spiraling into. His eyes flashed open with a jolt, a slight gleam of yellow fading swiftly from his pupils. He looked around to see the faces of Minsc and Yoshimo leaning over him, both obviously concerned while Minsc's iron grip held both of Greywulf's arms to the bed.

"Thank Ilmater, you are awake!" Yoshimo exclaimed, relieved to see Greywulf coherent as Minsc let him go. "We were afraid you would never come out of that state of incoherency."

"What was happening?" Greywulf asked, his mind still throbbing. "I dreamt... but it... it felt so real."

"If indeed it was a dream," Yoshimo replied, "Then it was a nightmare. You were screaming, thrashing about, so much so that Minsc had to restrain you from hurting yourself."

"I…I am fine now. What is the time?" Greywulf stuttered, wiping the sweat from his brow.

"Dawn will break in less than an hour. I should think you need that time to rest; you look like you have been doing more fighting than sleeping this night." Yoshimo commented.

"I will try. It was just that the dream… It was real."

"Perhaps you should tell us what you dreamt?" Minsc offered. "Boo is always a good listener... except when he gets hungry, or has eaten too much. Especially when he has eaten too much."

"That's all I want to know, Minsc." Greywulf said, smiling weakly. "But... no thanks, I might tell you later. For now I would just like to rest; please, excuse me if you would."

Greywulf watched his friends leave the room, then suppressed a shudder at the memory of his dream. So real... he lay down again and attempted to sleep, his breathing slowing as the terrors of the night faded away.

Across the hall, Aerie had awoken as well, rubbing her eyes, feeling her heart slow from its not so surprisingly quickened pace. As much as she did not want to admit it, leaving the circus, leaving Quayle... all of it wore on her and had remained a shadow over her all night long. It was ridiculous really, the circus was within walking distance, as was Quayle... but this was the first time... the first time in years she had not slept under the watchful eye of her Uncle, knowing that he would protect her, keep anything like what had come before from ever happening again... she shook away the threatening fears, sitting up to see the stalwart form of Jaheira, already dressed and armored, sharpening the tip of her spear.

"Jaheira?" Aerie mumbled, focusing on the druid.

"What is it, Aerie?" Jaheira answered flatly, little emotion in her voice.

"Shouldn't you be asleep? I mean... we have a while yet before it's even light."

"I have all the rest I need; if you desire to go back to sleep, suit yourself... you will need the energy for today."

"Oh. Okay." Aerie responded slowly, trying to find the words for this rather imposing figure. Perhaps they had just gotten off on the wrong foot from before; after all, she had attacked them without provocation... "I was just thinking, you know, that maybe if we rested more, we could be better prepared-"

Jaheira shuddered once, whirling to face Aerie, her brow knit in frustration. "Preparation? This is preparation, girl. Preparing for battle, making sure that nothing will take you by surprise, that no one will outsmart or outwit you. That is the only way we stay alive, and it is a lesson I have learned the hard way. You will learn it as well, or you will meet the same fate as…"

Jaheira stopped abruptly and turned her back to Aerie, resuming her sharpening.

"Jaheira? I'm sorry, is there something wrong? Have I done anything to offend you? If I have, I…"

"Please Aerie, leave me alone." Jaheira's voice was tired, more so than Aerie had heard before. All anger was gone from her tone, more of a deep sorrow and weariness. "I trust only those who have earned my respect and faith. Minsc, Greywulf, they have earned it. You and Yoshimo have not. It is that simple."

"Well, I... fine then." Aerie huffed, not understanding and finally growing fed up with Jaheira.

She dressed for battle quickly and stormed out of the room to head downstairs, only stopping once to glare once at the stoic figure of Jaheira. Watching as Aerie left, Jaheira shook her head and muttered, "Foolish girl. She believes this is an adventure, some romantic fantasy life; a time of excitement and wonder rather than hardship and battle. Such thoughts and attitudes will get her killed; I... I will protect her. I will protect her and teach her; I _refuse_ to see one more of us die in this fight. I swear it to you... Khalid."

She angrily brushed away the tears welling in her green eyes and continued her menial task with singleminded determination, the echoing of the stone against spear much louder than it should have been in that room.

Aerie walked down the stairs to the main hall of the inn, finding Minsc and Yoshimo sitting at a table both enjoying a breakfast of cakes, eggs and sausages, Minsc's portion obviously much bigger than Yoshimo's.

"My large friend," Yoshimo voiced with a grin as he twirled one fork in his hand, "I have never seen someone eat so many cakes for breakfast. You must have a stomach the size of an ox."

Minsc grinned back at the thief, unaware of the small bits of food stuck in his teeth that were painfully noticeable as he smiled. "Boo and I must be at top form and have as much energy as possible when fighting the forces of evil!"

"Make that a pair of oxen. If you continue to eat, you will not be able to move, much less fight the forces of evil." Yoshimo laughed, watching Minsc continue to devour the remains on his plate.

"Mind if I sit down here?" Aerie asked hesitantly, approaching as the two men talked.

"No." Yoshimo said, absolutely straightfaced as he shook his head. "You cannot sit here. Only I, the great Yoshimo, thief renowned over all Faerun may adorn this table with my magnificent presence."

"But... but what about him?" Aerie asked as she pointed at Minsc, obviously confused.

"Oh." Yoshimo stopped to consider this for a moment, then shrugged. "Hmm… and Minsc too. Because he amuses me with his eating habits and his hamster."

"Okay… I guess." Aerie said, turning to leave. _Maybe this was all a mistake; as if this day couldn't start any worse..._

"Please, come back." Yoshimo called, laughing. "I am only joking. Sit, join the merriment."

Aerie slowly sat down next to her companions and watched them quietly as they continued their breakfast.

"Are you not hungry?" Yoshimo queried, Aerie doing no ordering or making any attempt to get something to eat.

"No, not really." Aerie sighed, looking around. "I guess I'm just not used to this whole idea of traveling like this. You…you must have seen so many wondrous places so far, so many sights and experiences. All I've ever known is the circus, and… not much before that. I… I just want to help, but I don't know if I can."

"Do not be afraid, Aerie!" Minsc said, wiping his mouth with a napkin. "For all one has to do to be a hero is have the courage to be a force for good, and be ready and willing to kick the butt of evil whenever it shows itself! Remember the saying, little Aerie: 'Give a man a fish and he eats for a day, but give a man a sword and he can chow down on the meaty marrow of evil'!"

Minsc's earnest grin brought a smile and a slight giggle to Aerie's face. Yoshimo chuckling as well. "I don't think I've heard of that one, actually. But I think I can manage the whole fighting bit. You know, this group is... is really kind of odd, if you don't mind my saying so. Not in a bad way, but just different from what I pictured."

"How so?" Minsc asked innocently as he stroked Boo, the hamster squeaking softly every now and then.

"Well, um," Aerie stammered, trying not to laugh, "Er, you all seem so different from each other. You're a ranger with an… an interesting pet, Yoshimo's a thief but still works for good, Greywulf seems to make jokes about everything and he's the party leader. Shouldn't he be, well, a little more serious?"

"Greywulf's jokes are always a welcome occurrence. It keeps the group in better spirits. Boo knows and has told me on many occasions, Greywulf probably tells the jokes as a method of release… a way to relieve stress. Boo also tells me that he makes jokes in battle to distract and annoy the opponents, making them less careful, and therefore easier to put the smack down to! I like that part the best."

"Of course," Yoshimo remarked, reaching out to snag a passing bar patron's dangling coin purse with perfect dexterity, "But it might also be a way of keeping his mind busy, off troubles, worries... maybe even guilt he bears. He is under tremendous pressure."

"Oh, not that much." Greywulf interrupted, the sorcerer appearing somehow unnoticed as he walked over to the table, spinning one chair around to seat himself as he rested his hands and chin on the back of it. "But then again, if I go nuts one night and try to kill everyone, go easy on the face. Roguish charm such as mine should be preserved."

The other three laughed quietly while a mug and plate of food was placed before him, having done his ordering before coming over to join his companions. "So," Greywulf said, beginning to eat. "Been filling the new girl's head with lies and falsehoods already?"

"Only Yoshimo." Aerie glared at the innocent looking thief before turning back to Greywulf. "They were just telling me about some of your group... I'd kinda like to get to know the people I'll be traveling with. I mean, I know you're a sorcerer, but how did you get started in this whole business? Why are you out here, adventuring like this?"

"An understandable question, and not an unexpected one." Greywulf shrugged, pausing for a moment from his breakfast. "But I'm afraid it's a little more difficult then you think. My situation is… complicated."

"Complicated?" Aerie asked.

"That describes it pretty well." Greywulf admitted. "I don't... I don't tell many about my past, and there is a good reason for it. Very few know where I come from and those who do I either trust implicitly..."

"And those you don't?" Yoshimo cut in, taking a growing interest in this conversation.

Greywulf glanced at him for a moment, then sighed. "Those I don't generally try to kill me for it."

Aerie tried to hide the surprise on her face, but Greywulf noticed it right away, smiling weakly. "Don't worry, I see no reason why I won't eventually tell you... just later, after we have traveled together longer. For now, I would ask you to forget about my past. It is as I said… complicated. However, I can tell you more about the more immediate past, if you wish to know."

Greywulf began explaining to Aerie about their recent experiences, ranging from Irenicus, Imoen, escaping from the dungeon, though any mention of his heritage was keenly left out had anyone aside from Minsc taken the time to note it. As Greywulf made a few grand motions and impressions from a certain fight with the mad cleric Bassilus, Yoshimo leaned over and whispered to Minsc, "It occurs to me that I do not know much of Greywulf's past either. Perhaps you could tell me, Minsc?"

"I am sorry Yoshimo, but Boo and I both agree, Greywulf will tell you of himself when he is ready." Minsc shook his head firmly. "It is not our place to speak of what Greywulf would like to keep private. "

Yoshimo nodded and turned back to Aerie and Greywulf just as Greywulf finished the story. She was looking at him with more than a hint of admiration and wonderment, his stories more incredible than she had thought possible. "Wow... I had no idea you had done so much, even just in Athkatla. I'd love to hear some of your other stories in Baldur's Gate, later... if you don't mind! I wouldn't... wouldn't want to bother you-"

"Don't worry, Aerie." Greywulf chuckled, still trying to break her of her self-consciousness around the others. "I'll be glad to tell you anything you want to know. You might even try asking Minsc or Jaheira about some of these things as well, Aerie. They have been with me nearly my entire travels."

"Maybe Minsc, but… but I don't know about Jaheira." Aerie said, frowning as thoughts of the druid came to her mind. "What's wrong with her, Greywulf? I just said a few things to her this morning and she nearly bit my head off. I don't think I did anything to offend-"

Greywulf sighed and said with a forced smile, "Aerie, Jaheira is going through some… difficult times right now, and needs some space. She also needs her friends for support, though she'd rarely admit to it. I wish I could tell you more, but it is not my place to do so."

"She just seems so… well, unfriendly." Aerie spoke reluctantly.

"She can seem a little rough sometimes… ah heck, what am I saying. She's a lot rough all the time." he rolled his eyes with a grin. "Give her a chance, though. She may not seem like the sort, but she has become one of my greatest allies and one of my closest friends over the time we have spent traveling together. It has been almost a year and a half since Imoen and I met Jaheira and Khalid at the Friendly Arm Inn…"

"Who's Khalid?" Aerie asked, interrupting Greywulf's reflections.

Mentally cursing for his slip of the tongue, Greywulf lowered his head, trying to avoid the gaze of the elf. "I'm afraid this is… another subject I had hoped to avoid. I'm afraid you joined us at a time when inner-circle secrets seem to be at a premium... suffice to say that if you truly wish to know, you will have to ask Jaheira herself."

"Ask about what?" a voice issued behind them, all turning to see Jaheira striding towards them with an all too common frown since Khalid's death.

"Nothing. Nothing at all." Greywulf responded, shifting uncomfortably, the look in his eyes unmistakably a warning for Aerie to drop the subject, at least for the moment. "We just finished breakfast. Would you care for something to eat before we head out again?"

"No, thank you. I am fine. Shall we leave then?"

As they left the building and stepped into the morning sun, Greywulf frowned and turned to Aerie, saying, "Aerie, as I recall, when we rescued you in that circus tent, you mentioned that you were an Avariel, a winged elf if my lore serves me right. I fear my knowledge of the Avariel culture is limited to that; if you would feel comfortable enough, I would like to hear about your people."

"If you really want to... even though you will not tell me about yourself..." Aerie said, trying to manage a smile.

Greywulf laughed, and responded, "Okay, perhaps I deserved that. As I said, I will probably tell you some day. Just not today."

"Well, for starters," Aerie began, "There are not many Avariel left; most were killed by the dragons in the first Flowering. A few places still survive though, places where my people live, outside the normal word... isolated.. Faenya-Dail is where I was from. It was a grand city in the sky, where one could fly everywhere… we could fly…" Aerie stiffened slightly, glancing behind her shoulders as though looking for something not in it's place. She tried to resume, but her face was red and she couldn't quite manage the words any longer.

Greywulf noticed immediately, and realization came at the same time. A flurry of curses ran through his mind for so blatantly bringing up a subject he should have seen a mile away would be difficult on her. _An Avariel... a **winged** elf... and you find one who dosen't appear to have wings and ask about her people... great._

Greywulf put his hand on her shoulder and said with a smile, "It's okay... I'm sorry for bringing this up... it's obvious this is difficult."

"No... thank you for trying." Aerie managed, not quite able to look at him directly. "I just... I need some time-"

"All you need." Greywulf confirmed. "You don't have to say anything more. Not until you're ready."

Aerie whispered a thank you and slowed down until she was at the end of the line, Greywulf watching her silently as he exhaled, still stinging from his foolishness.

"So, where are we going, anyway?" Minsc voiced.

"Back to the Copper Coronet." Greywulf answered, glad to speak of something else. "We'll see if this Nalia is back yet. I sure hope so; Hendak may be a much better proprietor but I still don't like that place."

"Who would?" Yoshimo stated wryly.

"Point taken." Greywulf conceded. "Let's get there quickly before the clientele' gets any worse."

"I rather doubt that is possible." the oriental thief murmured as they moved, glancing behind them as he did so often to assure they were not being followed as they entered the Slums district.

For once, the safety measures Yoshimo implemented backfired, he did not see or subsequently manage to sidestep the pair of drunks wandering through the streets that the others had avoided. After slamming into him, the one's eyes flared, waving his fist in the surprised thief's face. "Hey... y' slubbin piece of filth! Get yor stinkin hide ouf my way!"

The dwarven drunk stood beside the man, his hand already wandering down toward the axe he carried at his side. "Step aside... boy, I'll gut'im wher he stanss..."

"Truly, there is no need for violence here." Yoshimo grinned nervously, backing up even as he furtively glanced at the others, stopped and coming back, their hands already drawing weapons in alarm. "Here, let me take you to the Copper Coronet with us; perhaps we can buy the two of you a drink-"

He was cut off by the dwarf's axe, cutting across his body, intending to take him out at the waist. He was just fast enough to dodge, though the hopes of getting through to these belligerent drunks was fairly small now. The human had noticed the alarmed companions of Yoshimo and swung his blade down at Minsc, the attack nicking Minsc's arm as the ranger tried to reach out and stop him with brute force. Bringing his arm back in surprise at the injury, Minsc's eyes narrowed as he instead launched out with his other fist, the handle of his sword clutched in the grip. It smashed into the drunk's face, sending him stumbling backwards even as Yoshimo kept dodging the swings by the dwarf.

"Try not to kill him, Yoshimo... they're just two drunks-" Greywulf called even as the thief glared at him. "Perhaps you would care to find a non-violent solution for this, Greywulf?"

Jaheira sideled up to the dwarf quickly, her spear shaft knocking the back of his head swiftly to end that threat. Yoshimo sighed in relief, nodding to Jaheira in thanks. The two drunks both on the ground now and unmoving, Greywulf motioned for them to keep going, "Best leave before they decide to go for round two."

Just as the group had turned... the human who Minsc had punched groaned softly, his blurred vision seeing the five adventurers walking away. "Don... Don't walk away from me..."

He rose, wiped the blood from his nose and ran forward with a scream, his sword up and ready to come down upon the surprised Aerie as she turned, a split second before the man's sword would cleave her in two...

Her quarterstaff stabbed out, catching the man in the throat. He gagged, stumbled backwards a few moments as his free hand clutched at nothing, Aerie looking on in horror... he fell to the ground, unmoving. Jaheira moved to kneel by the man, checking his vitals... "He's dead. The blow crushed his throat... nothing we could have done."

Greywulf quietly cursed the Cowled Wizards; if it weren't for the ban on magic he could've ended it so quickly with a Sleep spell, there had been no need for anyone to die. Still... Jaheira was right. They hadn't been given a choice, it was the drunk or Aerie. "All right... let's keep moving."

Jaheira walked past Aerie, paused as if desiring to say something, then apparently thought better and kept moving. The others did not seem so bothered, but Aerie's face said otherwise as she followed. "Are you all right Aerie? Not hurt, I hope."

Aerie had not heard Greywulf come to the back of the group with her, the sorcerer watching her in concern. Aerie did not turn to look at him, but murmured just loudly enough for him to hear, "I… I never, that is… I didn't imagine-"

Greywulf put one hand on her shoulder, the girl finally looking up at him. He smiled sadly and said quietly, "You've never killed a man before, have you."

"I...n-no. No, I haven't." Aerie stuttered. "I just… I didn't think it would be like this. I didn't know how I'd feel… I don't like it, Greywulf…"

"Good." Greywulf nodded to the elf, still slightly in shock at her own actions in battle. "Killing is a large part of what we do, but it doesn't mean we have to like it. One of the things I struggle with most is keeping myself from becoming numb to the death I see so often. Growing accustomed to seeing it while keeping the reality of what it is in your mind is a difficult balance to strike, but a necessary one. I hope this doesn't change your mind about traveling with us. Death... it's a large part of what we do. It's not easy sometimes..."

"No… no. I can handle it." Aerie said, her voice growing determined, managing a weak smile. "It'll just take some time to get used to, I guess."

"Aye, it will. I remember the first time I was forced to kill a man." Greywulf said, remembering back. "It was in the fortress of Candlekeep… an assassin surprised me before I had even begun adventuring; I had no idea what to do, how to defend myself. It was more luck than anything, but still… I remember it was one of the most sickening feelings I had ever experienced… but over time, that feeling was replaced by the knowledge that violence is but a tool to be used for the defense of others, and if done in that manner… it doesn't have to be so gruesome as it seems."

Aerie listened, then thanked him for his advice as they entered the Copper Coronet, the raucous crowd noise interrupting any further personal conversation they could have. Looking around, Greywulf motioned to Minsc, Yoshimo and Aerie and said, "You three, see if this Nalia has returned yet. Jaheira and I will go talk to Hendak, see if we can't sell some gear, make a little more gold. We'll need some better equipment if we are to survive much longer."

The five nodded and split up, Greywulf and Jaheira approaching Hendak's usual location, close to Bernard.

"She did well, don't you think?" Greywulf said, glancing at Jaheira with a barely suppressed smile. "Despite the circumstances, she handled both the fight well and the aftermath too with a bit of guidance. In melee combat no less. We've already witnessed her skills in magic, and you know we can never have too many healers in the group."

Jaheira snorted, shaking her head. "One street fight against a pair of drunks does not prove Aerie's worth to me, nor should it to you. You are merely looking for reasons to justify the foolishness of your sentiments."

"Or are you worried that Minsc, Yoshimo and I might just go slack-jawed over the pretty new girl and get ourselves killed in battle for lack of paying attention?" Greywulf laughed, though softly enough to ensure Aerie did not hear any of his comments.

Jaheira arched one eyebrow with a wry smile… then smacked him again with an open hand, nearly bowling him over. "I would kill you myself if I found you in the midst of battle ogling her instead of concentrating on keeping us alive. After all, how could we ever survive without your oh-so-omnipotent magical abilities, hmm?"

Greywulf shook his head with a chuckle, Jaheira's semi-abrasive comments nothing more than the usual routine by now. "Jaheira, your wit is, as always, such a morale booster. If only you and Xan could get together once more. Between his lamenting of anything and everything possible and your continual baiting and prodding of him, I'm surprised he didn't commit suicide on the way out of the Nashkel mines."

Jaheira's snicker was just barely noticeable, though reminiscing as such took her mind out of sync with her body for a moment, stumbling into a table, spilling a few drinks. Jaheira was quickly alert and moving away, Greywulf apologizing to the irate drunks at the table. Jaheira's face was reddened slightly at her unusual accident, surprising to the both of them. Greywulf frowned and asked, "Are you all right, Jaheira? You weren't injured in that last battle, were you?"

She shook her head, "Ehh, I think I still have a stitch in my leg from lying in that cold cell we were in, not to mention the drugs Irenicus dosed me with. I have not recovered fully as of yet, I don't think."

"Well, being captured by a psychotic madman will do that to you." Greywulf shrugged. "If you want we can take a day to rest maybe-"

"No... we cannot afford unnecessary delays." she shook her head vehemently. "Imoen comes first... and afterwards vengeance."

Greywulf smiled, relieved that her spirit was as strong as ever. "Thanks, Jaheira."

She frowned in a bit of confusion. "For what?"

"For not giving up." he replied quietly. "For continuing despite how much we've lost. For making sure that I don't give up, on either Imoen or myself."

"I could do no other." she responded, though her eyes did not meet his while she spoke. "Khalid would not... he would not have had me act as I did before. It was you and Minsc who reminded me of that. I should be thanking you."

"You've done enough... though if you really want to thank me, leave a little bit of Irenicus for me when we catch up to him, hmm? I've a few pains from our capture that I'd like to repay." Greywulf smiled grimly.

"I am not surprised, truth be told." Jaheira admitted. "Irenicus seemed to have a special interest in you. I imagine he will not be the last, and I cannot blame him. I have an interest as well."

A hint of amusement crossed Greywulf's features as Jaheira thought about her words, the druid quickly adding, "As a Harper I mean. I wouldn't want you to think… ahem. Let's get going, shall we?"

Greywulf chuckled and said, "As you wish, Jaheira."

Jaheira merely kept walking, her eyes just steely enough to dissuade any jibes or sideways glances from Greywulf over her poorly worded sentence. They quickly reached Hendak, the former gladiator who was always pleased to see them, "My friends! It is good to see you again. If there is anything I can do for you, please let me know. A drink, some beds, anything."

"No room and board for now, just some equipment to sell you if you're willing." Greywulf grinned, embracing the man once.

"Of course! Anything to help you. By the way, I have some information for you that might prove useful."

As Hendak inspected the items Greywulf and Jaheira had laid on the table, Greywulf asked, "What sort of information?"

"Well," Hendak said as he pulled some gold out of a pouch, still pricing the items as he spoke, "Since you will be pitting yourself against opponents such as the Cowled Wizards, you will need powerful weapons, more powerful than the ones you have, or could buy here."

"I suspect that you have an idea where we could find some, then." Greywulf answered with an arched eyebrow, taking the gold Hendak offered.

"I know of a dwarf who makes his home in the Docks district of Athkatla, by the name of Cromwell. He specializes in forging rare and powerful magical items, both weapons and armor. For a price, of course."

"We'll keep that in mind." Greywulf said. "But speaking of magical weapons, do you have anything we could use that's for sale?"

Hendak smiled and brought Greywulf and Jaheira into a back room, where a number of weapons lay upon boxes, all battle ready. After examining the various weapons, Greywulf gathered a few of the items and brought them to Hendak, who quickly priced them and, after receiving Greywulf's money, significantly lightened the pouch of gold he had. After leaving the room and reentering the main bar area, they quickly were approached by Minsc, Aerie and Jaheira, accompanied by a young girl dressed in the clothes of a commoner, but with the obvious air of a noble.

"Greywulf, Jaheira! We have found Nalia, and have heard her plea for help! I do not believe we can refuse such a request to aid the helpless!"

Greywulf walked over to the girl and bowed slightly, saying, "Greetings, m'lady. I am Greywulf, and these are my friends. I have heard that you are hiring mercenaries, and if the cause is indeed just, we will be glad to lend our blades to your service."

Nalia smiled, "Thank you so much! I am Nalia De'Arnise, daughter of the Lord De'Arnise, ruler of the lands directly east of Athkala. I am indeed in dire straits. I have been searching everywhere amongst these common rabble, but none of them have been willing to help! And after all I've done to help them!"

Greywulf frowned slightly, saying, "Common rabble? You sound as though you believe your wealth makes you a better person than them."

"No, no, that's not it at all." Nalia protested. "Those foppish snobs who hold themselves above everyone else make me positively ill. I sneak out of the castle now and then to help the poor and needy; that's why I'm wearing these old clothes. I like helping others, but I was still born into a noble family."

"I see... I cannot fault you for such motives, and I understand full well the lack of choice in your parentage." Greywulf said with a slight grimace. "So, seeing as you are the daughter of a noble, what kind of quest would require you to hire outsiders? I'm sure you have guards and soldiers at the keep."

"That's just the problem, the soldiers and guards have all been killed! Our keep is under siege by a large group of monsters and they have kept us locked in the keep for several days now. I snuck out to get help, but every time I brought a group willing to help us, they were slaughtered before they could do much good."

"That's not actually very comforting." Yoshimo said, wincing.

"Yes, you might want to work on your sales pitch a bit more." Greywulf said, glancing at Yoshimo.

"I'm sorry, but we desperately need your help. When I was last there, the Keep had not been breached, but that was almost two days ago. My father needs help!"

"Monsters, Keeps, and the boot-stomping of evil? You are speaking the language of Minsc, little Nalia!" he said triumphantly. "The forces of goodness will triumph this day!"

Greywulf shrugged and said, "Well, I guess that settles it. We will help."

"Thank you!" Nalia cried gladly. "Do you need me to take you there? I could join your group, you know, help you guys out? I've been practicing my lock picking and sneaking, and I can cast a few spells too."

Greywulf opened his mouth to speak, then grunted as he felt a sharp jab to the ribs. He glanced behind him to see Jaheira looking away from his general direction, but her eyes were still furtively glancing back at him, the glaring look unmistakable. In truth, Greywulf would not have refused her a chance to help her reclaim her home… but he had a feeling that taking Aerie with them was already pushing Jaheira's limited patience, and adding another young girl without experience would not be beneficial to the group harmony, or to his continued health either. Greywulf sighed and asked, "Have you ever been in battle before, m'lady?"

"Well… no," Nalia admitted, though her face still held a fair amount of defiance. "I know I could fight well if you give me a chance!"

"You have spirit, I will grant you that," Greywulf said, "But spirit alone will not avail you in the battles we fight. I must decline. Here, I have a map of the Amnish region. Mark down where the Keep is and we will meet you there as soon as possible. We still have a few things to take care of around here."

"All right," Nalia said reluctantly, "But please hurry, I don't know how much longer the Keep will hold."

With that, she made a small mark on the map Greywulf held, and then left the building.

"She speaks as though unaware of class distinction, but her manner exudes it. Good then, that you are sending her ahead." Jaheira commented, obviously pleased with Greywulf's decision.

"Yes, well. Before we go, I have a few weapons to hand out. It appears magical weapons are much easier to find here in Amn than in Baldur's Gate. Minsc, this axe is yours. It is called Stonefire, and the enchantment cuts deep with flame. Jaheira, this spear has a few minor enchantments, surpassing your present weapon. And finally, Aerie, I seem to recall you saying that you knew how to use a sling rather well. So, a sling and bullets. A simple weapon, but even the smallest stone can slay the largest of giants."

Each took their respective weapons and then exited, stopping at the exit of the slums district. "As I said to Nalia, we have a few things to take care of before we leave. Yoshimo, the Government district is just north of here, correct?"

"Yes, but why would we go there?" he answered.

"I still want to find out anything we can about this Jierdan Firkraag. Perhaps the scribes or historians can tell us something."

"Yes, but why now?" Jaheira queried. "I have little patience for cities, and would welcome leaving as soon as possible."

"If all goes well at the De'Arnise Keep, we might just head straight to the Windspear Hills and take Firkraag up on his offer. I want to know everything I can before we go... I am still unsettled about his words."

"Why such a hurry? I am sure there are more ways to make coin besides Firkraag's offer." Yoshimo asked.

"Imoen grows farther away each day that passes. Besides," Greywulf said sheepishly, "Those weapons I bought weren't exactly cheap."

"And 'exactly' how much money do we have left now?" Jaheira queried.

"Oh, about enough for room and board for another night."

"Then I suggest we get moving! When darkness falls, evil lurks around every corner! Careful not to step in any." Minsc commented to Aerie as he inspected his new axe.

Despite all they had done in the day so far, the sun was not yet at its peak, and shadows were still long upon the stone streets. Aerie found herself walking alongside Jaheira, the commanding presence of the druid keeping Aerie from saying much, not withstanding their previous conversation. Their walk was silent, but Aerie found herself wanting to say something, anything to clear the air between them. After all, Greywulf had said to give her time; maybe a compliment of some sort might open the druid up a bit. Gathering her courage, Aerie turned to Jaheira and said with a weak smile, "This light… it makes your hair look really pretty, Jaheira."

Jaheira's head snapped to face her, whereupon she said with more than a hint of scorn, "Don't be a fool, it does nothing of the sort."

"But-" Aerie stuttered, her hopes of a friendly conversation rapidly disappearing.

"Put your silly romantic notions aside, Aerie. This isn't some childish fantasy, nor some grand adventure. Anyone of us could die at a moment's notice."

"But… but we can go to the priests, and- and they can raise us from the dead, good as new, can't we?" Aerie responded helplessly, trying not to sound like a complete fool.

"Such resurrections are beyond the power of most priests, and even if they can, more money than we could find is required." Jaheira said, anger building with her. Before Aerie could say any more, Jaheira turned from her and snapped, "And.. and sometimes they don't come back! Sometimes some people, no matter how much you love them and no matter what you try to do, get… they get taken away. You're young, Aerie… you'll figure it out soon enough."

Before anyone could say more, the sights and sound of the clearing of trumpets blasted through the air, signaling the entrance of a group of nobles, escorted with full guard through the grand arch of the Government District. Yoshimo motioned for them to keep moving and found the Government Hall with little fuss. Inside was a flurry of both forced order and necessary hustle. The grand pillars supporting the roof stood firm, while the thrones where each of the city magistrates sat were ornate and covered with intricate designs. Walking down the grand hall, Greywulf stopped them for a second, looking about the area.

He mentally winced as he saw Aerie still looking hurt from Jaheira's comments, but he couldn't fault either of them, really. Khalid's death still weighed heavily on Jaheira, and while the majority of her issues had been dealt with, it seeemed Aerie's naivete would be an easy catalyst for bringing that frustration of Jaheira's back to the surface. Aerie couldn't know how badly Jaheira was hurting inside... but it was doubtful Jaheira would tell Aerie why she acted as such, either. It was probably in the party's best interests to split them up, if only for a small time. He finally faced them and said, "All right. While we're here, we might as well find out everything possible; Firkraag, Imoen, Irenicus, the De'Arnise Keep... all of it. The Cowled Wizards are supposed to be responsible to the government, so there should be some information about them around here. Jaheira, you and Yoshimo check out anything you can about the Wizards, where they go, what they do, anything. Minsc, Aerie and I will see what there is on this Firkraag."

The group split up and as Jaheira and Yoshimo began questioning a man dressed in the robes of a mage, presumably a Cowled Wizard representative. The other three found a monk who led them to a room stacked with old parchments, filled with dust and lit by a few candles. They all immediately began searching through the scrolls, searching for anything involving Lord Firkraag. After almost an hour of searching, Jaheira and Yoshimo came down to join them, and after reporting nothing useful about the Cowled Wizards or their prisoners, they joined the others in searching. Finally, as he was finishing one more stack of parchment, Greywulf came upon a scroll bearing useful information.

Muttering the words loud enough so that all could hear, he read aloud, "_This account is recorded in the year 1342, The Fourth Age of Faerun. I, Lord Garren Windspear, do take these lands in the realm of Amn, as mine own, to govern and reign over, until my last breath. These lands shall forever more be known as the Windspear Hills."_

Skipping ahead, he began reading a new section, "_My lands are not as secure as I thought them to be. Monsters, creatures of shadow and darkness have crept back into the wood. I had thought them all driven out. I will protect my people though. I will send a detachment of guards out tomorrow for monster hunting."_

Greywulf dropped the paper and picked up the next one, and continued the story, "_A strange occurrence happened today. A man by the name of Jierdan Firkraag approached me and offered to purchase these lands from me, to become Lord over himself. He offered but a pittance for the real worth of these hills. These hills are my home; my blood lies in them, my very spirit and lineage. Were I were to even consider selling, he has but insulted me with his offer, insinuating that I could not take care of these people or their homes. I promptly refused and sent him away. He did not take well to this, but promised that before the month was over, I would beg him to take these lands. I do not trust him, but I can do nothing, as he has committed no crime thus far. I shall wait and see if he makes good on his threat."_

Skipping past another few pages, Greywulf continued, "_Something is definitely wrong. Regardless of how many monsters my men hunt down, more seem to creep into these lands every day, while my contingent of soldiers dwindles. Another settlement was attacked last night, killing five and injuring another dozen. The people begin to lose faith in my leadership. If something is not done soon, I fear a revolt will take place. Something else… Deep inside, I wonder about that man, Jierdan Firkraag. He seemed rather… wrong, to me when we met. Could he be behind all this? This all seems to have a hand behind it, guiding these events, putting them outside my control. This does not feel random to me, but more akin to a series of moves in a chess game, putting me into check."_

Greywulf moved to the last paragraph of the parchment and read, "_It is over. I was right about Firkraag. I have recently learned he has been appearing to the people at night, in secret, telling them that he can provide better leadership, and as proof, he brought the heads of fifteen ogres. Fifteen! It is difficult enough to kill one, much less fifteen. I begin to see his trickery and deceit, but too late, I fear. The people are restless tonight. The lights burn bright amongst the villages, and my guards are nowhere to be found. If there is to be a revolt, it will be tonight. I can do nothing. Checkmate."_

Greywulf glanced up at his comrades, the torches of the dank records room tossing half-shadows on his face. "That's the last account recorded here."

"So, Firkraag has a few dirty secrets?" Yoshimo stroked his goatee, standing from where he had been reading scrolls. "If this is true... then the tales of how Firkraag came to power are deceptions; I had been told he came to Lord over the Windspear Hills after the former Lord abdicated without cause."

"Do you think he was lying to us as well? He might have been telling the truth." Aerie offered.

"Doubtful." Jaheira said grimly. "A man's actions show his character... and a bloody beginning to his reign does not bode well for any trust to be placed in him or his offer. I would be extremely cautious if we venture near the Windspear Hills."

"I agree. We will put off his request for a while unless we have no real other alternative." Greywulf stated.

"I have heard of other quests we might undertake, located in the city here." Yoshimo mentioned. "There is talk of strange happenings in the Temple district, and in the Docks, well, something is always happening in the Docks."

"All right. We'll head out for the De'Arnise Keep now, and afterwards we might check out the Temple district like you mentioned. But we have wasted enough time already. The De'Arnise keep is at least a two day march from here. We must hurry."

With that, they all left the building and headed for the city gates, the sun just leaving its peak in the sky.

X X X X X X X

Imoen looked around her cell miserably, watching the Cowled Wizards walk by, peering in now and again to look at her. She had already tried casting unlocking spells, dispel magics, anything to free herself but to no avail. Without her lock picking equipment she could make no use of her thieving skills either. As she sat on the bed provided she thought, _I hope Greywulf and the others get there soon. I can't stand much more of this, constant questioning and magical mind probes. I'm gonna go nuts if I don't get out of here soon. I just hope that Irenicus is getting the same, or preferably worse._

Just as she thought such, she felt another presence in her mind, the dark visage of Irenicus. _Imoen. Imoen. Do not fear, I am coming for you. You will be free from these Cowled fools soon, as I will. What happens after that though, that is another matter. We still have much to discuss. _As the voice left, Imoen shrank back and fell upon her bed, her throat dry and palms sweaty. Never before had Imoen wanted the Cowled Wizards to keep her imprisoned, or feared so much that they had not the power to do so.


	15. Part 1: Lessons Of The Past

"Excusing me, please! You be looking like a good fellow. Can you be helping me?"

Their business in the Government District concluded, the small group of five was ready to follow Nalia's direction back to the De'Arnise Keep; if the siege was as dire as she had made it out to be, they might already be too late. They had not quite reached the city gates when a small man in foreign robes and armor stepped up to them, bowing before Minsc as the ranger turning to look at the speaker.

"I am always willing to help those in need!" Minsc said proudly. "I will give your troubles the one-two boot stomp of goodness!"

The little man waved his hands, trying to settle the excited ranger down. "Oh, no, no, it is being nothing like that. I am great adventurer from Calimshan, great warrior. But I be lost, here, in this odd little city."

Minsc nodded in understanding, "I sometimes feel lost, but Boo tells me where to go. Boo points, I punch! Well, Boo just kind of runs, but I still punch! Yes sir!"

The man seemed unfazed to his credit, but instead clapped his hands together and said, "Oh, that is being most excellent! I am trying to be finding directions out of this strange city. Maybe you ask this Boo point way to Calimshan, yes?"

"Perhaps I should give him the directions..." Yoshimo suggested before Minsc waved him off, "Nonsense! Boo knows everything and is ever so willing to help others."

Still, Minsc hesitated slightly, looking around once before he continued. "You… you are kind to animals, aren't you? Rodents in particular?"

"Eh, to the best of my knowledge, I try." the man said, thinking. "Maybe I hurt a rat once or twice, but they infest the farms of home."

Minsc wiped his head in relief and said, "Boo doesn't like rats either. Something about their tails makes him… edgy, and you don't know creepy until you've seen an edgy hamster! Anyway, go out of the city that way…keep on the road, turn on the road at the big church and you will be out."

The man bowed again joyously before he began to follow Minsc's directions. "Most excellent news! That be one intelligent little Boo you are having!"

"Yes, Boo is friend to all. Such greatness, packed into a small furry bundle of goodness." Minsc said nobly.

"I must be getting one for myself. Okay, thanking you and farewell!" the man called, quickly hurrying through the streets along the directions Minsc had given him.

Aerie glanced at Minsc before leaning over to Yoshimo, the big ranger watching with great satisfaction as the small man disappeared... deeper into the streets of the city, the opposite direction of the gates. "Um, Yoshimo?"

"Yes, Aerie?"

"Didn't Minsc just tell that man the way to get to the, er... docks?"

"Hmm..." Yoshimo thought for a second before Minsc rejoined the group. "No... I think it was more the Temple district. Ahem... ready to go, Minsc?"

"Indeed! Let us go and show why we are heroes!"

"Heroes... and not travel guides." Yoshimo muttered with a smile as they made their way through the crowds of people, passing through the city gates within the hour. Their first few hours of travel were rather quiet and noneventful, the nearby lands fairly devoid of creatures of malice and the monsters that plagued much of the Sword Coast; the Amnish military presence was strong, enough to discourage raiding parties of things like hobgoblins and bandits. Greywulf had just gotten to enjoying the rare moment of peace when the sound of Yoshimo clearing his throat nearby got his attention, the oriental thief drawing close with a curious grin. "What is it, Yoshimo?"

"Greywulf, it occurs to me that you have not enlightened me about your past as of yet. I understand your desire to keep certain things secret, but surely I have earned your trust by now."

"Any particular reason for the sudden interest?" Greywulf asked, one eyebrow arched.

"Aerie raised my curiosity, and I simply like to know about those I travel with. If you wish, I will tell you of my own past first."

"No, it's all right. Between you and Aerie I suppose I won't have any rest until I've come clean about every little secret I've got." Greywulf gave a sigh and a mock glare. "No getting around it; Aerie, come here for a second if you would."

Aerie quickened her pace to reach Greywulf and Yoshimo, questioning on her face. "So... you two want to know where I come from; who I am."

"Not if you're uncomfortable with it, I mean-" Aerie offered.

"No, if we are to be friends and companions who entrust each other with their lives, we should not keep such secrets such as this. Where to begin… I was raised in the fortress of Candlekeep, under the tutelage and instruction of my foster father Gorion. He was a powerful wizard, and trained me in the magical arts. Imoen was my best friend growing up, kind of like the sister I never had. Gorion raised her as well, though who her parents were, I know not and neither does she."

Interrupting him, Yoshimo asked, "What happened to force such a life of adventuring upon you then? Surely not by choice. Any one of us could die at a moment's notice, and your life seemed rather quiet, inside a fortress of monks, wizards and soldiers."

"Yes," Aerie added, "I came adventuring with you because I want to not only experience the world, but do some good in it as well. But why did you do it?"

Smiling bitterly, Greywulf said, "I did not choose the adventuring life so much as it was forced upon me. Shortly after I turned twenty-one, Gorion began acting peculiar, more cautious and rather, well, paranoid. He seemed worried that something was coming, something that he could not stop. His fears were confirmed when I was attacked inside Candlekeep on two separate occasions by bounty hunters. My magic skills combined with the timely intervention by the guard of the Keep saved my life, but it was clear Candlekeep was no longer safe for me. After a few days he told me we were leaving Candlekeep and heading out on the road. We packed to leave and we set out for the Friendly Arm Inn. We had not made more than two miles journey from Candlekeep when we were beset by a group of monsters: orcs, ogres, and gnolls. But leading them… he was the greatest monster of all."

"What was it? A beholder? A dragon?" Aerie asked.

"No, just a man." Greywulf said softly, the memory of Sarevok emerging from the darkened forest behind and into the windy, rain drenched clearing echoing in his mind. "A man whose name was Sarevok, my half-brother, though I knew it not for many months, not until we stopped him. He ordered Gorion to turn me over to him; this had no part of Gorion, just me. Gorion refused. He told me to run and I did. I ran into a nearby wood, but stopped about a hundred yards away to watch what was happening. The monsters had no chance to give chase, Gorion's spells were powerful and slew them all... all but Sarevok."

Greywulf stopped briefly with the memory, and then continued.

"My father was a powerful wizard and his spells were numerous. He blasted Sarevok with spell after spell... but the energy he had expended upon Sarevok's monsters had taken a toll. His magic was strong, but Sarevok... his blade proved stronger that day."

"I'm sorry, Greywulf. I didn't mean to bring up painful memories like this." Aerie apologized.

"Not at all. After that, I ran again until I collapsed, Sarevok's wounds apparently too numerous for him to give chase. I was found a few hours later by Imoen, who had snuck out of Candlekeep and had been following Gorion and I until his death, when she fled as well, trying to find me. We welcomed each other's company, seeing as neither of us had any adventuring experience, and we made our way to the Friendly Arm Inn, where we met Jaheira and Khalid. Soon after, Minsc and Dynaheir joined with us, and that is how our group was formed."

"But why was your brother chasing you? And what happened to him?" Yoshimo queried.

"That's mostly what our adventures were about, after our group came together. We searched everywhere we could, trying to discover who Sarevok was and what he wanted with me. He had placed a bounty on my head of considerable worth, making the job even more difficult. We followed a trail of schemes, plots, and clues into the city of Baldur's Gate, where Sarevok's intentions became clearer. He planned to start a war between Baldur's Gate and Amn, by fostering mistrust and stirring up hatred between the two cities. The tainted iron from Nashkel, the bandit attacks on the roads between cities, all of it was his doing."

"I see. But to what purpose? And what did you have to do with all of this?" Yoshimo asked.

"Well," Greywulf continued with a deep breath, "He believed that all the murder, bloodshed, and death that would be brought with such a war, he could resurrect the power of our dead father and use it for himself. While I lived, I was a threat to his claim over the power."

"Who was your father?" Aerie asked, a slight glimmer of hesitation in her voice.

"Heh, you wouldn't believe me if I told you." Greywulf chuckled.

"Try me." Yoshimo challenged with a grin.

"All right. Our father was Bhaal, the dead Lord of Murder. Sarevok and I are Bhaalspawn, progeny of the dead god. According to the ancient prophecies, we were born for one purpose, to resurrect our father."

"You said that you were a Bhaalspawn, and there are prophecies about them. Does this mean there are others, like you and Sarevok out there?" Yoshimo asked.

"I suppose so, although I don't know for certain. Why the sudden interest in Bhaal?" Greywulf asked, Yoshimo's continual prodding growing just a bit much for the sorcerer.

"No reason. But thank you anyway. I will think about this." Yoshimo said rather cryptically, slipping back to his regular position in line.

Aerie did not say anything for a few moments after Yoshimo had left and soon Greywulf glanced down at her, wondering just how she would take this particular news. She hadn't spoken since he had mentioned his lineage, and he had rather expected at the very least a sentence or two. Finally he took the initiative and spoke. "Aerie? Are you all right? Kind of a shocker, I know. You should have seen me when I found out, heh."

Aerie looked up at his face and despite Greywulf's worries, her expression wasn't one of fear, but almost curiosity. "Oh, I'm sorry. I didn't mean to offend you by not speaking, I just… I'd heard stories about the Time of Troubles, and… and the Bhaalspawn who came from it. They were always portrayed as monsters, miniature versions of their father, consumed with nothing more than death and destruction."

"I'm sorry to have disappointed you."

"You're so… different, from what I had expected." Aerie said, choosing her words carefully. "You're caring, and… and you show mercy, and concern for your friends. I thought I would be frightened to death if I was ever face to face with a Bhaalspawn… but you're just so human."

"Half-elf."

"What?" Aerie said, confused briefly.

"I'm not human… I'm a half-elf. Just for clarification." Greywulf said in mock seriousness.

"You know what I meant!" Aerie said with a giggle. "Just… know that I don't think you're weird, or a freak, or anything like that. You're a good friend, and I'm glad to know you. Thanks for trusting me enough to tell me your secret. I won't tell... I promise."

Greywulf smiled and gave her a quick nod as they kept moving, quickening their pace once more.

They continued their march towards the De'Arnise lands, passing through numerous canyons, woodlands, and plains, in both night and day, until Greywulf, noticing the weariness in both himself and the party called for encampment. The tents were set up, and sleep fell upon all of the travelers quickly.

X X X X X X X X

A sharp pain in his head, a throbbing sensation exploded in Greywulf's mind, jolting him awake. The comforting material of the tent that should have been above him was gone, and the familiar starlit night sky was not visible either. He picked himself up in wary confusion, quickly taking in his new surroundings. He was in a grand hall, a pillared room surrounded by designs of unknown languages and patterns, a table so flat and rectangular before him it looked as though made for sacrificial purposes. All around him were stone figures, commoners from the looks of it, bearing the faces of ordinary, everyday peasants. At his feet lay the bodies of his companions, once again unconscious, unable to be stirred. The situation was almost identical in feel and aura to that of his first dream, he could not find another explanation. If there had been any previous doubt left, it was erased as a voice called to him fro the previously unoccupied spot behind the table.

"Greetings, child of Bhaal. How good of you to join me."

He whirled to face the unseen speaker, Irenicus standing there with arms folded, the same grotesque smile on his face that had been there in Greywulf's previous dream.

Finding himself unable to speak, Greywulf listened as the dream Irenicus began speaking. "Once again, you have felt the calling of your power and you still refuse to take what is yours. I am here to educate you. Let us begin the lesson."

He walked over to one of the stone statues, a middle-aged, plain looking woman, and began speaking again. "What is strength, Greywulf? What gives you the power to do the things you do? Magic? Skill? All of these contribute, but they are not what truly give you strength."

Irenicus ran one hand over the cheek of the stone statue, then glared back at Greywulf. "Life. Life… is strength. This is not to be contested, it is natural. You live, and you affect your world."

A flash of light ignited with a spell, the woman becoming flesh and blood once again.

"Take this woman, if you will." Irenicus said, "A nobody, a complete cipher in the grand scheme of things, completely powerless when compared to your own deeds... and yet she still has strength of a sort. She lost her husband to war, her family to plague, but she struggled on, she persevered. She has built a home for herself, her children are safe and well-fed, and her name is respected. She has lived as she thought she should. Look what her strength, meager though it is considered, has accomplished."

Irenicus appeared to study her for a brief second, then smirked. "And now, she is dead."

She disintegrated before Greywulf's horrified eyes, Irenicus brushing the remnants of her dust off him nonchalantly.

"She lived, child of Bhaal, but she had no real power, no lasting impact. Her children will mourn her, she will be buried, her land divided, and her family will move on. She will be forgotten in a matter of years."

He then walked up to Greywulf and pointed his finger at the man. "How will you be remembered? Will you be forgotten in history as well, swept away in the annals of Faerun? Or will you seize your destiny, your birthright and make an impact upon the world as you know it?"

Finding himself able to speak once more, Greywulf snapped, "I told you before, fiend, I want nothing of this tainted power within me; I swear I will fight it to its end or mine."

"Believe what you wish, godchild. But remember that your choices affect so many others besides yourself. Another reminder, perhaps?"

A stone Imoen appeared beside Irenicus, Greywulf's eyes widening as he heard the incantations fall from Irenicus' mouth, leaping forward, his fingertips a hair's breadth from Imoen... before she exploded as well, driving Greywulf back to consciousness with a muffled shout of his own. The tent was once more his surroundings; Minsc's snores still ruffled the tent with him. His heart slowly calmed its beating as Greywulf wiped the sweat from his face, his hands trembling slightly. He tussled around for a moment, finding his waterskin to take a few drinks, finally pulling himelf up to step out into the night air. He took a seat by the smoldering campfire, bringing a few scrolls to study with him, anything to take his mind off the dream. One in particular caught his eye; the parchment he had recovered from Irenicus' dungeon. He looked it over and read its message once more, continuing his attempts at deciphering the ancient Elvish texts. He had no sooner finished one word when he heard noises, the sounds of muffled cries and shouts, coming from Jaheira and Aerie's tent. He quickly slipped in, finding Aerie still asleep but Jaheira tossing back and forth amongst her blankets, sounds of horror coming from her lips.

"Mmphh….Ehhhh…Erghh.. Ah!! No!" Jaheira screamed, sitting straight up, looking around frantically as her chest heaved with breath. "What…?"

Greywulf quickly and quietly stepped over to her and put his hands on her shoulders, trying to calm her.

"Greywulf?" Jaheira muttered, looking at the face of the half-elven man. "What is going on?"

"I heard you thrashing in your sleep, Jaheira. Here, let's get out of this tent, get you calmed down before Aerie wakes up too."

The two of them went out to the campfire and sat down, Jaheira still trembling slightly. "Nightmares? Relax, there is nothing wrong." Greywulf said, attempting to comfort her.

"No…no, there is something very wrong." Jaheira answered softly. "I…I have been having nightmares, and when I wake, it is still there."

Jaheira looked into the night sky, her eyes glistening. "Khalid…I thought I was stronger than this."

"There is no weakness in honest sorrow, Jaheira." Greywulf said, giving her a cup of water.

Looking back at Greywulf with a hint of surprise, she replied slowly, " 'Only in succumbing to depression over what cannot be changed.' The writings of Alaundo the prophet? I learned such proverbs likewise as a child. We have more in common than I thought."

Greywulf nodded and as he looked at her, she smiled weakly. "Thank you for listening to my ridiculous cries and rants. You are a good friend, especially in these times... but we should be resting now, including you. What are you doing up? Surely my nightmares were not loud enough to wake you, if Aerie was not roused."

"Actually," Greywulf admitted, "You're not the only one with nightmares lately."

"Care to talk about them?" Jaheira offered.

"Twice now, I've... I've dreamt about both Imoen and Irenicus. Irenicus keeps urging me to accept the power within me, whatever that is. He wants me to accept the evil inside; when I refuse, Imoen dies."

"Could it be that Irenicus is sending a message to you through magic, attempting to corrupt you?"

"But how could he? The Cowled Wizards would surely find out and put a stop to it. Is that my destiny, Jaheira? To be the death of all those close to me, used against me until I either sacrifice them or me?"

"No." she said vehemently. "Do not give up hope, Greywulf. We will find Imoen. You just need some rest... some sleep would do both of us some good."

"I couldn't if I tried, not right now anyway. This will be more than enough to keep my attention." he sighed, gesturing to his scrolls.

"What is it you are studying?"

"The scroll detailing the staffs of the Five that I found in Irenicus' dungeon. I haven't been able to decipher much besides what I already read to you. From what I've read though, there are two more sections of language which I can't read; I've never seen anything like them before. It says there are two keys; which I assume are two other scrolls, ways to decipher the rest of the inscriptions."

"Does it give their location?"

"No such luck. Perhaps in some Elvish ruins, an ancient city, I don't know. How Irenicus got his hands on one of the sections is another mystery. Theoretically, if I could get all three sections and summon one of the staffs to myself, it would be a tremendous aid to our travels. The legends say that the power of the staffs not only allows a mage to channel his own magical energy through it, greatly decreasing the power required to cast a spell, but it adds to the energy of a spell as well. The ancient Elvish sorcerers used powerful long swords in conjunction with their staffs... though I've never heard of a wizard using a sword before."

"Perhaps with their staffs, they no longer had to concentrate so much on their spell casting and could spend more time and energy on the field of close combat as well." Jaheira considered.

"Possibly. I always meant to learn how to use a sword properly, you know... just in case."

Jaheira nodded and said, "I imagine Minsc or Yoshimo might prove a better teacher than myself in the ways of a sword. I have always preferred the use of a spear or quarterstaff myself, as you well know."

Greywulf nodded, remembering some of the training Jaheira had given him in staff fighting, then looked back at the night sky and said in his best Jaheira-esque impression, "Look at this. Spending time we could be getting rested for tomorrow with childish fantasies about magical staffs and ancient wizards. We should get some rest."

Jaheira glared lightly as she stood, "I agree... though there is one last matter I think we should discuss."

"Oh?" Greywulf arched one eyebrow, standing to meet Jaheira eye level.

"Minsc and I... we heard what you told Aerie and Yoshimo earlier today." she paused for a moment, as though considering her words. "About your past, your... heritage."

Greywulf shrugged, grunting once as he wrapped his cloak around him a little tighter. "I see. And why tell me? I presume you disapprove of my decision?"

She snorted, "It is hardly necessary for you to get my permission for every choice you decide to make any longer, Greywulf."

"Of course." he said, a faint smirk visible on his face. "That's why you felt it necessary to make your feelings known concerning Nalia earlier today."

"That was different... I see no reason the whole group should not have a say on who travels with whom." Jaheira countered. "You seemed willing enough to put it to a vote with Aerie."

"Jaheira, we could bandy veiled taunts and half-accusations all night long, but I'd rather get some rest, as well as end on a good note between us tonight." he sighed, glancing over at the crackling embers of the fire. "What did you want to tell me?"

"You were right." Jaheira folded her arms. "To begin with, I mean. I did not approve of your choice, though Minsc did not see the harm. Both Minsc and I agreed though... we trust you, if nothing else. If you feel Aerie and Yoshimo are deserving of your confidence, then I will back you."

"That's all?" Greywulf asked. "No lectures? No dire warnings about the consequences of my folly?"

"Would you care for one? I did not think so. Just know that you have my support, and my trust... and I too would rather we end this night well. Good night, Greywulf."

Greywulf watched her for a moment with a wry smile as she turned on her heel, stalking back to her tent. As both of them fell asleep, there was a peace in their minds neither had felt in some time.

_Author's Post Script: Kind of a short chapter, especially with the whole history lesson concerning the BG1 events, but I thought it was kind of necessary, just to establish the past. As always, Reading and Reviewing is most appreciated. Hope you enjoyed; next chapter coming as soon as I can get it finished!_


	16. Part 1: Five Man Siege

As the sun rose to and past its height, Greywulf and his companions stopped to take a quick meal; they had traveled nearly six hours straight and were close, but not nearly close enough to the Keep. Neither Greywulf nor Jaheira had been plagued with further nightmares, though neither had spoken about it since the night either. Their road was swift, most of the terrain fairly easy going for the five of them, a welcome change from some of the mountain roads they had walked previously. Even as they broke for their period of rest, Greywulf seated himself next to Aerie, the young elf struggling for breath as she gratefully unshouldered her small pack, setting it down beside her as she wiped the sweat from her face.

"Feeling all right?" Greywulf asked as he pulled a few rations from his pack, tossing some to her. She caught them with a tiny smile, nodding her head. "Don't worry about me, Greywulf, I can keep up just fine... though I guess I am a bit out of shape."

"Out of shape?" Greywulf echoed, laughing. "Aerie... my old inkeep at Candlekeep, Winthrop; he was out of shape. You... you're fine. Trust me on this."

Aerie blushed deeply, shifting her robes a bit while she sat. "T-thank you. Do... do you have time for a few more of your stories? Will we be resting here long enough for that?"

"Enough for one or two." Greywulf said with a frown. "Let's see... hmm. There was this one time with a particular gnome... I think his name was Tiax..."

Minsc chewed his own food thoughtfully alongside Yoshimo as he watched Aerie listen intently to Greywulf a dozen yards away. Yoshimo glanced over at Minsc, his gaze switching between the ranger and the sorcerer. "Is there something on your mind, Minsc?"

"What?" Minsc turned back to Yoshimo. "What did you say, Yoshimo?"

"I asked you if something was on your mind." the thief grinned. "The way you have been staring at our new companion and Greywulf would burn a hole through them if your eyes were capable of such."

"If only it were so!" Minsc laughed. "If Minsc could beat evil just by looking at it, oh what a force Minsc and Boo could become! The stare of Minsc is second to none! Although I would have to use my sword often as well; it would get sad if I didn't."

"Undoubtedly. But what of my earlier question?"

"I was thinking of Aerie." Minsc said, mulling the elf over in his head. "She is a witch, like Dynaheir was. It is good for us to have a witch, yes indeed... but perhaps she needs a protector?"

"A protector? Like what you were to Dynaheir?" Yoshimo rubbed his chin thoughtfully. "I am not sure that would be quite so necessary, Minsc. She has all of us as her watchers."

"Yes... but she is afraid when we fight, Boo sees it. Her Quayle was a protector, though not quite as big as Minsc! She has not seen so many things and fought so many battles as we have..."

"And her confidence is definitely not on par with Dynaheir's." Jaheira's voice cut in as she slipped up from behind them, her eyes also fixed on the two sitting off by themselves, Greywulf doing his best impression of the power-mad gnome Tiax, waving a stick around crazily. Jaheira smiled in satisfaction as though knowing exactly what Minsc was thinking. "I would not doubt for a moment she could use some extra protection, Minsc. If you truly wish, why not ask her?"

She snugged her own pack and gear up again, her meal finished as she turned away, only stopping briefly to toss behind her, "I am going to stand sentry at the top of this rise. We should be leaving soon if we are to reach the Keep by the end of the day."

"I will join you." Yoshimo said, grabbing his bow and sprinting to catch up with Jaheira, leaving Minsc alone as he watched Aerie, his mind still turning...

"You're kidding, right?" Aerie laughed, Greywulf shaking his head. "He actually said that?"

"He did." Greywulf chuckled. "Of course, that was about the time Tiax took his leave from our group... after all, when Cyric calls you to be the Lord of the Sewer custodians... well, it takes away from your adventuring time. Not that we were sad, actually, to see him go."

"You... you always know how to make me laugh." Aerie smiled, sitting back a bit in relaxation, the sun still high enough to warm the hillside. "I'd tell you some of my adventuring stories, but I think you're in them all."

"If you like... I'm still interested in hearing about the Avariel." Greywulf said slowly, trying to make his request as gentle as possible. "Only when you feel ready though; don't feel like you have to."

"No, no... I do want to tell you." Aerie nodded, thinking as she brought back memories she had stashed away for many years. "As I said before, my own people live high in the mountains to the far south in Faenya-Dail. It is… was… a grand and majestic place. My memory is dim, but whenever the thought of it crosses my mind, my eyes still blur with tears."

Aerie smiled, thinking of her kin. "Our… our homes were open places of marble pillars and sunlit vistas from which you could watch the entire mountain range below. There was no place you could not spread your wings… we cherished the wind and the rains… we breathed in life, Greywulf, and lived in peace with each other. There were distinct societies among us, as I remember. There were… great aerial warriors who defended us, possessing glass weapons that shimmered and radiated in the sunlight… gleaming with power and putting awe into all those who saw them wielded."

"I only saw them used once, when a group of sky drakes came across the city and attacked. The way our warriors soared across the sky as the great battle horns of silver blew, their white wings billowing as they swung their glass blades, cutting through the air like beams of crystal sunlight… I shall never forget it for as long as I live. Wizards, those who shaped the cities above and sustained our sanctuaries... clerics who worshiped day and night, ever seeking the will of Aerdrie Faenya. My own class pursued art and knowledge, building the great structures and halls, filling them with glorious wonders of marble and jasper and emerald and diamond; we created perfectly shaped prisms set to catch the first rays of sunlight as it came over the horizon, throwing the light into colors so it would dance over the floors and walls in the morning hours…it was… it… I am sorry, Greywulf. I can speak of it no longer… I think of my lost home and it wrenches my heart…"

She turned away, quickly picking up her own pack and stepping away from Greywulf, wiping her eyes as she stalked up the hill towards the others. He followed close behind and within minutes, they were on the move again.

X X X X X X X

"Ooo! Squirrels, Boo! I know I saw them! Quick, throw nuts!"

"Minsc, could you please maintain a little grace while in nature's presence? Not only are we but a few miles from the Keep, well within range of any scouting parties... but jumping up and down as you are is completely undignified." sighed Jaheira. "Sometimes I simply do not know how you came by your title of ranger."

"Do you wish me dour and sour like most others?" Minsc asked, looking slightly miffed. "No, I say not! Besides, the enemies we face should know we are coming and tremble in fear at the wrath of Minsc and Boo. That is the way of things. As for my jumping, the animals run and play without care, and I would too…if such a thing would not squish Boo flat."

Jaheira pursed her lips and said in her very well used lecturing voice, "But your duties are serious things, Minsc. Do you realize that?"

Minsc nodded eagerly, "I am very serious! Boo would not let me shirk my duties! I would not want to shirk anything! No sir, no shirking!"

Jaheira chuckled and said, "Admirable Minsc, but you use that word like you don't know what it means."

"Er… well…no…" Minsc conceded, "But it sounds sharp and painful and I always reserve such things for freaks that might steal those squirrels' nuts!"

Jaheira sighed, seemingly satisfied with Minsc's childlike conviction. She smiled briefly and replied, "Good job, Minsc. You keep it up."

"As entertaining as this has been, Jaheira has a point. We should be able to see the Keep from this next rise..." Greywulf muttered as they climbed to the top, revealing a vast landscape before them, grassy plains dotted with trees and fields of beauty. Situated in the center of the fairly flat area was a castle, the De'Arnise Keep finally revealed. Something was definitely amiss though... its banners were torn down, no longer flying proudly in the afternoon air. Crude banners of bloodied cloth and paint hung from the poles, far too heavy to flap in all but the strongest wind. A few hundred yards from the Keep stood a small encampment, encircled by wooden palisades and barricades, the De'Arnise banner flying there instead.

"What now?" Jaheira glanced at Greywulf, staring down at the encampment grimly. "If the invaders have breached the Keep it will be very difficult to unseat them... the five of us are not exactly equipped to siege a castle."

"Our best bet will be to make for the encampment and pray we are not spotted by any hostile creatures on the way. I hold very little hope that the castle has stood unbreached for this long."

They quickly and quietly approached the encampment, making their way down the mountain in the straightest paths possible. They had not yet reached halfway down when a loud snort and growl erupted from a small grove of trees to their right. The group turned just in time to see a small threesome of snake-like yuan-ti slither out into the open, rearing up as they drew long swords, swinging as they came. Minsc charging forward with Stonefire, the axe blade slicing under a sword parry and into the creature's belly. Jaheira was pushed back by one creature but quickly counterattacked, managing to distance herself from the creature enough to make full use of her spear. Greywulf and Aerie did not hesitate in their attacks, Aerie providing minor protection with her priest spells while Greywulf blasted one yuan-ti with a hail of acid arrows, striking the creature unerringly.

Even as the yuan-ti fell, a large pounding noise became audible, growing increasingly louder over the sounds of combat... a large, gray cave troll burst out of the trees and swing a massive claw forward, knocking Minsc into Yoshimo to send them both flying. Aerie's attempt at a spell was disrupted by an attack from the last remaining yuan-ti, the creature's sword swing narrowly missing her hand. She stumbled back, dodging as best she could. Jaheira turned from the troll to slay the yuan-ti attacking Aerie, but paid for it dearly. Just as she pulled her spear from the chest of the yuan-ti, she was slammed against a large rock by the troll, knocking her weapon away as well as her consciousness. Greywulf turned and hurriedly began casting as the troll charged him, the troll's fist slamming down upon... nothing. Greywulf vanished from sight along with the rest of the members of his party. The troll looked around confusedly, never seeing the five weary adventurers materialize about 40 feet away, covered from sight by a few boulders and trees. Greywulf crawled over to the body of Jaheira and began shaking her gently, trying to revive her. Minsc and Yoshimo were both kneeling next to the two while Aerie watched the troll from behind a bush, peering at the confused beast worriedly.

"Come on Jaheira. Wake up. We need you right now."

Jaheira's eyes began fluttering as she finally regained consciousness.

Greywulf hushed her quickly and pointed at the troll barely visible from where they were. "What happened back there?" Minsc asked. "Boo thought that our friend Greywulf was about to become a splat between the troll's fingers."

"A group teleportation spell. Luckily it put us downwind of the troll, so he hasn't smelled us yet. I guess we know what type of monsters are attacking the Keep now; though if Nalia had let us know we'd be fighting trolls, I'd have bought some fire or acid arrows before we left Athkatla. Jaheira, can you stand? We've got to get moving; you know how tough cave trolls are to kill."

Jaheira nodded and got up, searching for her spear. Yoshimo handed it to her, saying, "I managed to grab this before we were transported by Greywulf's spell."

"Um... I think the wind changed." Aerie said nervously.

"Why would you say that?" Minsc asked. "What does the wind do for Minsc and Boo?"

Aerie had not time to answer as the troll's roar echoed alongside the thundering of its massive footsteps, crashing down upon them once more.

Everyone rolled aside quickly, trying to surround the troll on all sides. While Jaheira and Minsc attacked the large brute with their weapons, darting back and forth within the troll's rather impressive attack range, Yoshimo launched arrow after arrow into the troll's thick hide. Aerie launched bullets from her sling, scoring hits in many areas, though their tiny blows did little to affect the mighty creature. Greywulf abandoned his offensive magics in exchange for casting protection spells on his fellow fighters; it proved to be just in time as a massive fist slammed into Minsc, bounced back by the glowing shield protecting him. Minsc and Jaheira took full advantage and attacked with all their might, the blows of the troll slowly wearing the beast down as they dug large gashes in the troll's skin. Still... with each blow, the blue magic surrounding the two warriors seemed to grow weaker, Greywulf's face gleaming with sweat as he gritted his teeth, shaking to maintain the magics... a loud sound like shattering glass echoed through the clearing, leaving Minsc and Jaheira vulnerable as the magic shield dissipated, Greywulf clutching his arm as though struck.

The troll's arm was a blur as it swept up a nearby boulder, finishing the motion right into Minsc to send him flying backward, incapacitating the already wounded ranger. The troll turned to Jaheira, raising the boulder high with a roar as it prepared to smash her... the roar turned to a gurgle as a stone from Aerie's sling slammed into the back of it's throat. Jaheira stumbled back warily as the troll staggered for a few seconds... then fell, the sheer volume of wounds it had endured along with the final strike enough to overcome the great beast. Jaheira raced over to Minsc and took hold of Stonefire, walked back and buried the axe into the troll's chest, the fire ensuring that it would never return.

The two healers wasted no time in moving to Minsc and beginning their spells, Greywulf and Yoshimo keeping watch in case of any further incursions while Minsc healed. Soon Minsc awoke and despite a few sore bones and a cracked rib or two, Minsc announced that he and Boo were both fine and would continue to stick their fingers (or hamster paws) into the eyes of evil.

"All right... we need get down to that encampment as quickly as possible before another patrol of monsters finds us. Yuan-ti and trolls; I just hope that we've seen the last of the cave variant."

The group continued down the mountain, finally reaching level ground just as dusk began to set in. They crept toward the encampment, guided by the torches they could see burning in the darkness. As they went, Greywulf squinted into the dark before quickly turning to stop the rest of the party.

"What is it?" Aerie asked, trying to see what had given Greywulf pause.

"There is another group of creatures moving toward the De'Arnise encampment. It looks like a few trolls with one or two yuan-ti. We have to stop them."

Minsc nodded and began to stand, no doubt a battle cry on the way, but Jaheira quickly pulled him back down. "What do you suggest? We could indeed charge them directly, but stealth might prove more useful here."

"I agree. I can cast a spell that will mask us from just about everything, but it'll only last a few seconds... make your shots count."

For a moment there was nothing but soft footfalls and slithering as the small group of monsters crept toward the De'Arnise encampment... Yoshimo flashed into existence as he pulled his katana across one of the yuan-ti's throats. Another yuan-ti roared as Jaheira materialized behind it, her spear thrust through the back of the snake's neck. Aerie appeared as her spell activated, a bright flash of light blinding the remaining monsters. Greywulf's spell caught one troll unaware and blind, his spell of fire immolating it permanently. At last Minsc appeared with a loud cry, Stonefire slashing through the remaining trolls chest, sending it stumbling back but not completely dead...

Two arrows whizzed into the beast's chest, their tips flaming as they struck. It was too much for the troll to bear and it finally joined its companions on the ground. The battle weary group turned to look at the source of the arrows and saw two men dressed in the armor of the De'Arnise guard approaching, both with long bows and quivers. "Halt! You are obviously no troll or snake and we thank you for the assistance. They probably would have killed a couple of us before we could repel them if you hadn't alerted us to the attack."

"The voice of justice will always shout down the squeaks of evil!" Minsc announced, obviously proud of his war cry.

"Yes well," one of the guards said rather hesitantly, "You must be the adventurers Lady Nalia said were coming. Come with us."

They led them into the encampment, enclosed by a makeshift wall of wood, a meager defense against the monsters lurking outside. As they entered, they saw many weary looking soldiers both standing and sitting, resting upon blankets and cots. A few mutterings were heard as they passed through, but no one said anything openly. Many were wounded and some looked on death's door, but the air of determined fight was still visible; these men and women were not done yet. They were soon brought into a tent where the captain of the guard stood along with a very relieved Nalia De'Arnise.

"I'm so glad you're here!" Nalia exclaimed, running to the adventurers. "I was worried that you might have gotten lost, or worse."

"I'm sorry about the time of our arrival; we were…delayed. Nevertheless, we are here; I believe you owe us some information. You never said anything about trolls when you recruited us." Greywulf said, a stern tone creeping into his voice at the end.

Nalia sighed, though she did not lose any of the strength in her bearing, "I'm sorry, but I felt it was necessary. Everyone else I asked that I told about the trolls refused. You…you aren't going to leave now, are you?"

"No, we won't leave. But we're going to need the whole story now, along with any information about the enemy. I assume that by your present location the castle has been overrun?"

"Yes, about a day and a half ago," the heavily armored man said, stepping forward. "I am Captain Arat. I was in charge of the defense of the Keep... though I have failed the Lord De'Arnise in this. We had been able to hold the beasts off, keeping them from breaching the outer gates. On the thirteenth day of the siege, they appeared in the midst of the castle, spreading out quickly and killing many. A few men said they saw large creatures with them, umber hulks by the look of it, burrowing in for the trolls. We were taken completely by surprise and had to retreat out of the Keep. The majority of force sieging us from outside must have joined the assault inward, there was relatively little resistance left out here. Many men did not make the escape... Lord De'Arnise was one of them."

"He could still be alive!" argued Nalia angrily.

"I know how much you love him, but the odds are slim." Arat said, lines of fatigue creasing his proud features. "He was probably searching for his magical flail. He kept in stored in three separate pieces in the Keep, probably to keep it safe from thieves. I saw him use it in battle once, long ago... he was a force to be reckoned with, to be sure."

"If he did manage to put the flail together, he could still be in there, fighting, waiting for us to come and help him!" Nalia protested once more. "I will not allow us to sit here any longer, doing nothing. If our own people cannot rescue him, then these men and women will!"

Greywulf glanced over at Jaheira. _She's strong willed, that's for sure._

"Don't worry, we'll try and find him when we move in." Greywulf nodded. "How do you intend for us to gain entrance? A frontal assault would be futile, I should think."

"There's a secret entrance that leads into the castle by route through the stables. It's only a few dozen yards from here, on the side of the rocks by the Keep. You can sneak in from there and take the trolls by surprise." Arat responded. "You needn't worry about payment either; we will give you five hundred gold now, and another fifteen hundred once our coffers are available to us again. Lord De'Arnise also kept several caches of weapons about the Keep in case of invasion, though we never got the chance to find a few of them. Feel free to keep them, I will mark their location on this map of the Keep."

"There aren't any more cave trolls, I trust?" Yoshimo asked, looking slightly concerned as he nursed a swollen bruise from that battle.

"I thought I saw a pair of them shutting the outer gates as we ran. If they're still there, your best bet would be to avoid them until you can face them one at a time." Arat almost flinched at the thought

"Only two?" Greywulf asked cautiously.

"Yes, I would've seen if there were any more."

"Then there is only one now." Greywulf said, almost sighing in relief. "We killed one that was on patrol with a group of yuan-ti before we reached the encampment."

"You five killed a cave troll?" Arat asked, looking them over as though trying to decide whether they could have accomplished such a deed. "Perhaps if what you say is true then maybe you may be able to defeat the creatures inside. Perhaps if you could make your way to the gate winch... if you could open the front gates we might be able to support you for a few minutes at least. It won't be much, but it's all we can offer."

Greywulf merely smiled. "Don't worry about it. Trust us, the whole Keep saving thing, that's what we do. The troll slaying... Minsc just does that for fun."

X X X X X X X

Minsc grunted as he pulled Stonefire from the chest of a troll, only one of the several lying dead in the room the trolls had been taken unaware in. The battle was the fourth they had fought since entering the Keep halls, each one over quickly, leaving the warriors breathless but relatively unharmed. Still, the fatigue from their past battles and the prospect of so many more was daunting, and everyone was beginning to feel it. "We have been lucky so far, surprise on our side." Yoshimo pointed out even as they rested. "I think if we are to succeed we will have to do what the good captain suggested."

"You're right." Greywulf said. "The outer courtyard shouldn't be too hard too find, but I imagine it will be the most heavily guarded. We'll try to sneak up to the gate winch, but it could be difficult."

"Couldn't you just cast another invisibility spell like last time?" asked Aerie.

"Maybe with a few hours rest... which we don't have." Greywulf shook his head. "Still, according to the map Arat gave us we're close to the outer courtyard. Assuming we don't encounter another troll patrol we should get there relatively quickly."

They moved into the dining hall, its once lavish and beautiful décor ripped and trashed by the monsters. A loud roar sounded before they had taken seven steps into the room, emanating from a troll on the balcony up above them. An arrow from Yoshimo narrowly missed the troll as it leapt down, accompanied by three more of its kin. Two doors swung open from the side as well, revealing yuan-ti and a few other trolls as well. The horde barreled into the company; the first few were blocked off by Minsc and Jaheira but it soon developed into a tangled mess of dodging and counterattacking, a struggle to survive and little more.

"There are too many!" shouted Yoshimo as his katana sliced into a yuan-ti.

Greywulf did not respond, but it was clear the trolls had finally caught wind of their intrusion and prepared for them here. He braced himself to raise another magic shield, barely holding up under the swords and fists of the creatures before him. He looked at Aerie desperately, glancing back at the creatures on the other side of his shielding. She hurriedly blasted flame across the floor before them, cutting off the majority of the monsters. The wall of flame in the room gave them room to dispatch the few creatures on their side and then keep moving, snarls and hisses behind them.

"Come on! The magic will not last much longer." Greywulf commanded as they dashed out of the hall, moving through the corridors, his companions close behind. A loud crash sounded behind them, the sound of many feet and snakelike hissing slowly rising in the back of their hearing.

"The gate is not far from here. Hurry!" He pushed them on only to stop as Minsc stood firmly in the corridor, facing the direction they had come from.

"Minsc and Boo will stem the flow of evil while you open the gates." he growled, drawing the Sword of Chaos as he strapped Stonefire to his back again. Before Greywulf could protest, Misnc glared at him, his eyes narrowing. "Do not argue with Minsc!!"

"I will stand with you, my large friend." Yoshimo said as he drew his bow out along with the fire arrows Arat had lent them.

"Stay with them and add what protection you can." Jaheira told Aerie. "You must keep them safe until we have accomplished our goal."

The mage and druid raced to the courtyard and reached its open space, just beginning to hear the sounds of combat behind them.

As they looked about, the darkness of night slowly giving way to the early morn, Jaheira pointed at a flight of stairs going up to the walls and said, "Look! The stair to the gates!" The two ran to the stair and began climbing, as a group of particularly large yuan-ti slithered across the courtyard toward them at blinding speed. Greywulf's spells managed to kill one of the group before they reached him, dodging aside to leap up the stairs with Jaheira further above him. A potion from his robes at the next platform summoned a whirlwind of fire, blocking the yuan-ti in one last delaying tactic.

"Behold! The gate winch is near!" Greywulf shouted, pointing at the wheel above the gate not one hundred yards away. "Open the gate, I will buy you as much time as I can!"

Jaheira shut her mouth on the protest coming from her lips, knowing it would be naught but a waste of time, though the worry for her friend's safety still pushed at her as she sprinted up the stairs toward the winch, only glancing behind once to see multiple images of Greywulf flitting about, dueling with the yuan-ti further while the doors below crashed open with the hordes Minsc, Yoshimo and Aerie had tried to hold off... they apparently had failed.

One more troll had come from the other side and blocked her passage at the end of the walkway. She dodged one attack and then another, blocking with the shaft of her spear and spinning to make a blind lunge backwards. The spear caught the troll in its stomach, stunning the beast long enough for Jaheira to get by the dazed creature. It began to snarl once again before she was halfway to the winch however, and she feared she would have to fight the beast again... a magic arrow of fire suddenly flew through the air, downing the troll for good. She did not have to look to see Greywulf's hand at work but instead kept moving, finally reaching the wheel and turning it with all her might, the doors below creaking open slowly.

For a moment nothing happened... and then she heard it; one prolonged horn blast, the call of the De'Arnise guard into battle.

With Arat at lead, the mass of soldiers rushed in the gate, wielding swords and bows to combat the surprised creatures amassed in the courtyard. A shout of courage and magic sounded as a worn Greywulf fought back the monsters on the stair, Jaheira joining him quickly as they brought low any creature too cowardly to face the wrath of Arat and his men.

With no place left to retreat to except the Keep, the surviving monsters tried to flee the way they had come... until the portal crashed open, revealing a battered Yoshimo and enraged Minsc, Aerie behind them as they launched an attack from there as well. Pressed from three sides, the trolls and yuan-ti were quickly overcome, nowhere left to retreat. Even as the last few were dispatched, Greywulf sank against the wall in relief, the adrenaline that numbed all the fatigue and pain slowly fading away. "You have done well. By our count, more than half of the trolls have been destroyed in this battle, and the majority of the yuan-ti."

Greywulf craned his head to see Arat approaching alongside the rest of his companions, Yoshimo offering one hand to pull Greywulf up, the sorcerer leaning on his staff heavily as Arat continued. "I fear that I cannot send my men in to accompany you through the rest of the Keep... we are still few in numbers, and many are wounded or dead after this battle; we have done all we can. We will set up a base within this courtyard, so if you truly need to retreat, we will defend this area, but no further. The rest of retaking the Keep will be up to you."

The captain and his soldiers filed back out to their encampment to bring their tents and constructs to set up while the five adventurers took that moment to rest, Jaheira and Aerie performing the healing that definitely needed to be done.

"What happened back there?" Jaheira asked Minsc while she cast her spells upon his numerous wounds.

"We fought bravely and Boo could not keep track of the number of beasts we slew, but the majority of creatures ignored our righteous fury and kept going, pursuing you two." Minsc grunted, obviously irritated that the battle had slipped past them. "We killed those who remained to fight us and came to aid you; that is our tale."

"I don't suppose you saw the last cave troll while you were fighting?" Greywulf asked.

"No, but we did fight one of the umber hulks they spoke of." Aerie voiced. "It was stronger than I had expected-"

"I'm not surprised, and you should not have been either. Those creatures survive in the Underdark; weakness is not brooked easily there, nor here for that matter." Jaheira glared for a moment, before her gaze softened. "Still... a fine job, Aerie."

"What now?" Yoshimo scavenged a few stray arrows from the ground, restocking his quiver.

"With any luck, the trolls will have retreated to the lower levels of the Keep. With a few Clairvoyance spells..."

Greywulf began his incantations and after a few minutes he turned back to his friends, "I was right. The trolls have abandoned the upper levels. That not only gives us some breathing room, but also gives us the time to find some of those weapon stashes on this map."

With that, the five moved into the castle once again, and after moving through its demolished halls, they reached a wall that Greywulf stopped at. Feeling around for a lever or opening mechanism, Greywulf eventually stopped and cast a spell, opening the hidden door by magic. As the wall moved away, they entered a dark and dusty room with three chests at the end of the hall. Behind the chests were six statues, each one of a large golem.

"Should we worry about those things?" Aerie asked.

"Why?" Yoshimo asked with a grin as he approached the chests. "No harm ever came from a statue."

X X X X X X X

"Are you all right?" Jaheira asked, helping Greywulf to his feet, scattered pieces of several types of golems littering the ground all about.

"Yes, but thank you." Greywulf said unconvincingly.

"Liar." Jaheira said with a frown as she examined the side of Greywulf's head, a large gash bleeding from where a golem had struck him.

Her healing spells drained, Jaheira took a band of cloth from a small pack of healing supplies on her belt. With a quick but gentle wrap, Jaheira tied up the wound and steadied Greywulf, still recovering the energy he had expended in the short but fierce battle.

All in all, it took the good part of a hour to settle all major injuries each party member hurt in some fashion after the battle.

"Yoshimo," Aerie said with a grimace, her side bandaged heavily after a blow to the ribs that had almost killed her, "Please be more careful."

"Sorry about that." Yoshimo apologized. "I had full confidence that we could defeat any trap thrown at us, no matter how difficult-"

"Yoshimo, stuff it." Jaheira replied curtly, her irritation more than evident.

Yoshimo opened his mouth as though to answer with some sort of obviously tacky apology-come-on, but with another look at Jaheira's face, he decided against it.

Still, their battle had not been without rewards; weapons of great power had indeed been locked away, along with a particularly acidic flail head. A second axe, Frostreaver, now sat on Minsc's back with Stonefire. A long elven dagger sat in Jaheira's belt at easy reach, and both Yoshimo and Greywulf recovered stronger weapons as well.

Their path was a quick one from there, the trapdoor leading down nearby that particular room. Glancing at the map once more, they descended the stairs... only to make good use of their new weapons. A horde of umber hulks charged up the stair, chittering and rumbling as they came.

Before the beasts even reached them, two had fallen to Yoshimo's accuracy and another fell as soon as Jaheira's spear could reach it. Just as the remaining umber hulks prepared to strike, Yoshimo dropped flat upon the stairs to open up a space for Minsc, leaping over the prone Yoshimo into the umber hulks as he swung furiously with his axes. Magic missiles and Flame arrows spat furiously into the beasts, dropping their strength and numbers. Not ceasing to rest on their retreat, the five kept moving, descending further and further, killing any too slow to escape... until they finally reached bottom.

The dungeon hall loomed before them, lit dimly by a few candles and torches. Trying to see their way through the darkness, Aerie conjured a flare, illuminating the whole area. Before them was a large statue of a great lord, defaced by the trolls. At its base stood one large troll, quite a bit fiercer and larger than the others. Beside it stood something they had really hoped to avoid... the second cave troll.

"Have I mentioned how much I hate trolls?" Greywulf whispered to Jaheira as they moved up cautiously.

At their feet lay a crumpled body, his armor and clothing torn and ragged, but still evidence of his stature as the Lord De'Arnise. He made no movement... if he was alive, they could not see it. "Weak manlings! TorGal smell you, see you! We crush all!"

"Why are you beasts here?" Jaheira spat. "What do you gain from invading in open view of all?"

"Hah! You must think TorGal stupid! You should have left with other guards for money! Deal with richer, stronger one bring good money, good help!"

"What?" Greywulf recoiled. "Deal?! What have you trolls done! Who are you-"

"No more words! TorGal smash you all!"

Even as the cave troll roared, swinging his club as it prepared to charge, Greywulf risked a glance at his friends; it had been hard enough to kill one when they had been at full strength; here, wounded... it would be almost impossible. Unless... Greywulf began backpedaling slowly, dropping his quarterstaff to use both hands in his magics and incantations. The air around him began swirl and billow, the torches upon the stone walls beginning to darken and fade.

As the gusts of wind grew even stronger, everyone including the infuriated cave troll, turned to look at the elven sorcerer, his full power unleashed. Cracks of thunder began sounding all about, until the maelstrom seemed to culminate in one giant bolt of lightning, crackling past the cave troll. The other four party members looked desperately at Greywulf, wondering just how he could have missed the great beast... a second later the sound of stone and rock splitting echoed through the chamber. Behind the troll, the statue that TorGal stood in front of that towered over the room had been hit by Greywulf's magic, splitting at its base. The cave troll did not notice but instead charged forward... only to be smashed underneath the giant statue, killed along with TorGal as Yoshimo launched two flame arrows, one into each crushed troll.

The dark wind and dust around Greywulf seemed to subside as the half-elf knelt down and picked up his quarterstaff, leaning upon the weapon as he stood up, obviously tired... though he could not help but turn to Yoshimo with a smug grin. " 'No harm ever came from a statue'... indeed."

"I stand corrected, Greywulf." the thief chuckled.

"Greywulf! That was incredible, what did you do?" Aerie asked in a combination of excitement and awe.

Greywulf smiled weakly and said, "To be honest, the whole wind, darkness, thunder thing... that was just a few cantrip theatrics to keep the troll's attention on me. It's amazing what you can do with a simple lightning bolt spell... if you hold it for a few minutes before releasing and pump as much magic in it as possible."

"Isn't that dangerous?" Aerie asked, her eyes wide.

"Oh hush girl. Greywulf is indeed tired and doesn't need to be bothered by your irksome questions right now." Jaheira cut in, ending the conversation.

Aerie looked at Jaheira with a small flash of irritance and muttered, "I just wanted to talk to him, but I guess you're the only one allowed to do that."

Jaheira turned to Aerie, her eyes flashing with familiar anger, "Just what do you mean by that?"

Greywulf rolled his eyes in exasperation and said, "Look, both of you... we just killed a cave troll and saved the De'Arnise Keep. I don't know about you two, but I'm tired. **Really** tired. Let's go make sure Nalia's father is all right and we can settle this later."

Jaheira took a deep breath and said with forced calm, "You are right... such squabbles can wait until later. Let us go."

Yoshimo was already at the man's body, checking his vital signs. He was ashen and unmoving to the eye, though a flail with two heads attached was lying on the ground a few yards off. As the group waited, he glanced up and said softly, "He's dead... his body has been tortured terribly; he gave out not long ago, perhaps even this day."

"Then we are too late. We have failed Nalia." Minsc said quietly.


	17. Part 1: The Seduction of Trust

_Author's Note: All right... once more, all chapters previous and including this have been scoured thoroughly and edited so that all the typos and little errors I keep missing are corrected. 1000 retroactive points to everybody who has reviewed, and an extra 20 super points to those who've found my little mistakes and so graciously point them out to me. It can only get better from here on out because of you all... so enjoy!_

The dawn broke in the De'Arnise lands, a tinge of red filtering through the normally clear skies. Nalia and Captain Arat both waited nervously within the Keep's courtyard, awaiting the return of the five adventurers who had yet to come forth. Every now and then Arat would glance over at Nalia, ensuring himself of her well-being, both physically and emotionally. She had been very close to her father, and not knowing his fate was a terrible toll put upon her young shoulders. True, she was stronger than many would give her credit, probably because of her time 'slumming', as her Aunt Delcia put it so condescendingly. In his opinion, she was doing more good than most of the noble families did with all of their money and supposed charity, though he could never say so to the Lord De'Arnise and certainly not to Lady Delcia; t'was not his place. Granted, he wished she had more protection when she was out on her own, but the magic and thieving skills she had studied were more than adequate; he had no doubt she would not be an easy target in a fight.

Still, he moved a bit closer to the girl, alert for any hostile motion to come through the courtyard towards Nalia or himself. She noticed and managed a worried smile for him, the newly risen sun lengthening their shadows over the courtyard as they continued to keep watch for their rescuers. The creak of the large wooden doors leading in and out of the Keep sounded as they swung open, four battered and weary figures struggling out. Arat and Nalia ran to meet them halfway, their eyes wide in concern yet relieved to see their safe return.

"You have survived!" Nalia exclaimed. "We heard the sounds of battle continue into the night... it is a relief to see you return."

"Is the Keep secure?" the captain asked, looking their wounds over with concern.

"Yes, it is done. The other cave troll was killed along with all the other trolls, yuan-ti, and umber hulks. The Keep is yours once again, Captain." Greywulf said, trying to keep his voice steady.

"And… and what of my father?" Nalia asked hesitantly. "Is he-"

Greywulf's head dropped, turning slightly from her... one more figure came from the door behind them; Minsc approached, the body of the Lord De'Arnise cradled in his arms.

"I'm so sorry." Aerie whispered as Nalia's eyes glassed over, unable to find the words to speak as Minsc laid the body at her feet, stepping back in sorrow.

"Forgive us... we were too late for him." Greywulf said with a heavy heart. "I know it is little consolation... but he did not go quietly, you were right... he probably died fighting. We found this near his body."

Greywulf held out the magical flail they had found, the third head reforged by the adventurers before they left the Keep. "Many trolls looked to have fallen with this weapon... it was only partially completed when we found it. Perhaps had it been whole he could have held out longer..."

"No, it... it is all right." Nalia managed, her voice cracking as she managed to tear her gaze from her father's corpse. "The Flail of Ages is a mighty weapon... but Father always said it had a bloody past... he used to say it would probably be his death too someday. I'm sorry, please, take what you have earned."

Arat handed them another sack of gold, Minsc tucking it away with a nod of gratitude. "What will you do now?"

"The only thing we can do... rebuild." Arat sighed. "It will take some adjusting, now that Lord De'Arnise is gone... but Nalia will be more than adequate as the new ruler of the lands. If it please you milady, I would remain and serve with you as I did your father."

"I wouldn't allow you to leave, Captain." Nalia smiled weakly, allowing the older man to embrace her once. "I... I don't suppose you all would be willing to stay and help us rebuild for a few days? We could use your help."

"If it were possible I would not refuse, but I fear we have pressing affairs of our own; a dear friend of ours is imprisoned and must be rescued. We wish you all the best... though I would like a word with you, milady... alone if you please." Greywulf cleared his throat.

"Alone? I... anything you say to me can well be heard by Captain Arat." Nalia frowned as the adventurers stalked away from the rest of the guard, Arat following only at Nalia's insistence. "What is it?"

Greywulf glanced at the guard captain, then said in a low voice, "Nalia... before we killed the troll leader, he said some things... disturbing things. Concerning the origin of this attack."

"What are you saying?" she frowned in confusion.

"He's saying that the trolls did not attack on their own initiative." Jaheira finished. "The trolls did not come here on their own... they were hired. How do you think they came with the aid of yuan-ti and umber hulks? All of them were paid to work together, to attack your Keep... their strategies were far too subtle and well planned to be random acts of violence."

"Paid?! How- impossible!" Nalia cried in disbelief. "Why would-"

"Your father, as beloved as he was, still had enemies." Arat interrupted gravely. "None I can think of would have the audacity to perform an act of this scale and treachery... but it is not inconceivable."

"There's more... your guards? Many were bought off according to the trolls; I have no reason to doubt it." Greywulf added.

"That explains much." Arat sighed. "I had noticed how few guards and soldiers came out with us when we fled the Keep... I assumed many had been caught inside like the Lord De'Arnise or had fallen in battle before hand. But if they were able to go out the same way the umber hulks burrowed in..."

"Then you never would have seen them leave. I tell you now, someone very wealthy and very powerful has targeted your Keep." Greywulf said darkly. "You may have repelled this invasion... but it's not over yet."

"Whoever it is... they will see justice for what they've done." Nalia said angrily, glancing back at her father. "They killed my father.. and I will ensure they pay for it. Captain, make sure our defenses are rebuilt as soon as possible. And have as many of your men investigate this matter quickly; I want to know who did this."

"Yes, milady." Arat bowed and stalked back towards the Keep itself, carrying the Lord's body with him.

"Like we said... we must be leaving." Greywulf told her as she turned back to him. "I wish we could help you investigate this further, but we can only wish you the best of luck along with our concerns and prayers. Be on your guard; I fear that the beginning of your reign, Lady Nalia, will be a most violent and dangerous one."

X X X X X X X

The road leading back to Athkatla had proven much more wearying after their numerous battles and fights at the De'Arnise Keep, and they had made little more than half their previous day's progress in crossing the same land before sunset, the whole of the group agreeing that an early night would be more than welcome. Camp was set, and a few minutes in front of the fire before bed held a certain appeal as four of their number watched and warmed themselves, the fifth already taking her rest.

"Do you think she's all right?" Greywulf asked nobody in particular, glancing over at the tent Aerie was currently resting in. "This was the first large scale battle she's been in; she seemed well enough on the way up here, but still..."

"She will be fine... she must learn to be, anyway." Jaheira responded. "We don't have the time necessary to induct her gracefully into this life... she will have to make the hard choices and stand the pressures of this life as they come."

"Perhaps, but it might not hurt to have someone check on her." Yoshimo shrugged. "I could-"

"No, I will talk to her." Jaheira shook her head, standing from her position beside Minsc. "You three should get ready for bed... we've endured enough this day without prolonging the night more than necessary."

She was gone quickly, though the three men did not move right away. Greywulf glanced at them and asked quietly, "What do you think about the Keep? We did what we were hired to do... but I'd bet every gold piece we own that their Keep isn't safe yet."

"I agree... Minsc does not have a good feeling about this." the ranger frowned. "Something is not yet right, and Boo hates leaving evil villains unvanquished. "

"It might be a necessary evil this time, dear ranger." Yoshimo pointed out. "I know your heart desires to see this through, but if we are to raise the money for Imoen's rescue we should be finding new work, rather than seeking out something so ethereal as this."

"Maybe..." Greywulf glanced over at the tent with Aerie and Jaheira, their voices loud enough to be audible though the conversation was not quite clear. Still, it did not exactly sound like the most friendly of words between the two... he was certain that a hint of that standard Jaheira lecturing tone was wafting out from the tent. Greywulf pulled himself up in irritation, preparing to go see what exactly was happening. "Oh hell... I _told _her to work on her bedside manner..."

Without warning, a voice hissed from out of the darkness behind them. "You are Greywulf, correct?"

Immediately alert, the three men brought their weapons to the ready, peering out toward the voice... a tall, powerfully built woman stepped out into the light of the campfire. She was dressed in a black hooded cloak out of which her long black hair spilled, concealing most of her face beneath the darkness. A black garment was wrapped around her body, stopping just below her lower waist, allowing almost total freedom of movement. She walked... almost stalked, really, closer to the group, her body glistening in the firelight to give a strange, unearthly tone to her skin.

"Is there something we can help you with? If there is anything Yoshimo, Master Thief, can do for you, I will be happy to oblige." Yoshimo said, putting as much charm into his voice as he could muster.

"My words are for your leader." she said, her eyes flashing with what could be construed as disgust. "Greywulf, is it? I have a... proposition of sorts for you. My mistress has heard of your plight, and offers something you may well be interested in. Will you hear me?"

"You have taken the trouble of finding us, I see no harm in at least hearing you out, though I am interested in what you claim to know of me." Greywulf said with a shrug, though the grip he held on his quarterstaff was not lessened. "Please... warm yourself by the fire if you wish."

"Very well... though I prefer the cold. We know much of your situation... all of you." she purred, drawing close to the sorcerer. "You have taken an offer from a group you know nothing about and are depending entirely upon the goodwill of the Shadow Thieves to rescue your Imoen. Does that sound familiar?"

"You do know much." he cocked one eyebrow. "Just who are you?"

She bowed low and said, "Excuse my lack of manners... I am Valen, and at the very least you can know that I work for a guild you can trust, more so than your Shadow Thieves. I also know that you have not yet paid the Thieves the money they desire and so are not required to work with them."

"Indeed... though knowing that I'm being followed and spied on doesn't endear me very well; I told the Shadow Thieves the same." Greywulf replied coolly.

"It may be well worth it. Our guild offers you the same bargain, finding Imoen and helping you combat the Cowled Wizards'... though our cost is not nearly as high as the Thieves. We will only require 15000; still expensive, but you know that combating the Cowled Wizards will be no easy task. Our guild will not only help you find Imoen, but we will reward you with several magical items, reimbursement for some of the money."

She leaned forward, her face inches from his. "And maybe, if you like, some other bonuses…"

She trailed off as she rested her cold hand on him, running her long black nails across his chest, a flurry of shivers running down his spine. Before he could react, she kissed him upon the lips, biting his bottom lip as she let go, drawing a thin trickle of blood. He put one hand to his bleeding lip as she drew away, staring into Greywulf's eyes, the two black orbs drawing Greywulf in, sucking his consciousness into her void…

She moved off into the darkness, seemingly merging with the night. She tossed back behind her, "Think about it. If you decide to work with us, come to the Graveyard district in Athkatla at night, whenever you have decided. We will be waiting."

With that, she was gone, the only trace of her ever having been there the blood that ran down his lip. Greywulf wiped his lip once more with a deep breath, before turning back to the others. "Well, that was interesting."

"Indeed." Jaheira's cold tone came as she ducked out of the tent along with Aerie; apparently the altercation between Valen and Greywulf had been more than enough to draw the two from any disagreements they may have been having. "It would seem this guild Yoshimo told us of has taken notice of our actions... I sense we play a greater role here than either side would have us believe."

"Perhaps... perhaps this is not a bad idea; we would save much coin and achieve the same goal, it seems. Although... it would be certain to make enemies of the Shadow Thieves." Yoshimo said, still glancing at where Valen had left.

"I disagree." Jaheira said sharply. "There was something… unnatural about her, unworldly. Everything about her screamed against Nature. Did you see how pale she was, dead-like?"

"She was extremely cold; I could feel no sign of warmth in her when she kissed me." Greywulf mused quietly.

"I-I've never felt like that around someone before." Aerie shivered. "She felt... felt wrong, Greywulf. I don't know how else to describe it."

"Boo is usually very good around strangers, but this woman, she gave Boo the willies. A hamster's instinct is never wrong."

"All this discussion is well and good, but we're all tired and it's a long journey back to Athkatla." Greywulf cut them off, waving his hand before glancing out in the dark once more. "We'll make any important decisions in the morning. As for tomorrow, we can't be carrying this bag of gold around with us all the time, especially if we're heading for 20000. We'll need a magical sack of gold, like the one we had before we were captured by Irenicus."

"What's that?" Aerie asked.

"It's a sack that contains a limitless intradimensional space, specifically tuned to gold coins and the like. Kind of like a Bag of Holding, but just for gold. It's fairly common for adventurers, but I need a few ingredients yet. We'll purchase them in Athkatla and try to find more work. We've a long ways to go yet; let's get some rest."

They were all asleep quickly... all except Greywulf, whose thoughts kept flickering back to the strange woman until he fell asleep from exhaustion, the taste of her lips and his blood still echoing in his head.

X X X X X X X

Greywulf awoke to the sunrise, his head groggy and limbs sore. He felt as though he had not rested at all, the only memory of sleep coming with the dreams he had of Valen. Nevertheless, he dragged himself to his feet and looked around, the ever vigilant Jaheira already up and watching the camp.

"You know, you could try relaxing for a while." he said to her, slowly approaching.

"We were taken by surprise once. I do not intend to let it happen again." Jaheira said, giving him a quick once-over. "But what about you... you look terrible. Did you not sleep?"

"I slept, but not well. I couldn't seem to get that woman from last night out of my head; I don't know why."

"Is it so hard to figure out?" Jaheira asked wryly, turning to watch the open fields once again.

"Well, I mean besides that. Last night, I couldn't stop thinking about her, but now I don't have a problem."

"Perhaps a weak version of a Domination spell?"

"A Domination spell? No... I doubt that. Either way, it's gone now; no need to worry, I should think." Greywulf said, cutting off the conversation abruptly.

After the two had stood there for another minute or so, letting the rising sun warm them, Jaheira found herself watching Greywulf surreptitiously. She had not said as much, but her suspicions had been proven nothing if not correct by what Greywulf had said concerning Valen. He seemed somewhat curt with her, as though unwilling to discuss the issue. As soon as the conversation last night had seemed firmly opposed to her, he had cut it off and basically been unwilling to hear much more of it. She had little doubt that it was indeed some form of a Domination spell cast upon him; if his mind was unclear, she would have to be assuring that their course did not waver. Time would tell, she supposed. If and when they met up with her again, Greywulf's behavior would be clarified. He seemed to notice her glances, turning and looking at her rather questioningly. She quickly changed her train of logic and asked, "A copper for your thoughts… you look rather pensive this morn. Doubts about your current path, perhaps?"

Greywulf thought for a second, and replied, "That's one way to put it, I suppose; it seems like I can't even blink without someone popping up with a dire warning using the word 'destiny' in it a dozen times."

"What, has Elminster appeared to you again while we were not looking?" she asked.

"Heh... no, but that man does get around far too often. It's just... I have so many decisions to make, so much rests on what I do... and I feel like I don't have a choice in most of it."

"Is that your feeling?" Jaheira asked, slightly surprised. "I was taught that we all had choice, and you are usually one of the greatest proponents of the idea of manifesting your own destiny. Still... the great cycle likely did not count on divine interference. You must be feeling pressures I do not."

"More than I'd like. So many things pulling me back and forth... and knowing that Imoen's fate might rest on my decisions makes it that much harder."

"Ah, I understand." Jaheira nodded. "Most of us would tend towards equilibrium. It would require effort to pull in one direction or another. But you are pulled from the start, with balance being the difficult path. It is the same with nature when civilization intrudes."

Greywulf was silent for a moment, then queried, "And what has been the solution there?"

"Solution?" Jaheira asked.

"There has to come a time when things end, for better or worse."

"True, but who knows when such an end will come about. We work for balance in case the final count is taken today. Live each as the last, just in case it is." she recited, her voice growing quiet for a moment as she sighed, turning to him with a sad smile, " 'The present will pass you by if you live in the past. Neither should you wait too long for the future to find you.' Who said this? It was… Khalid. He did not dwell on things, and wished that I would not either. I have tried to take his advice, both in the past, and present, but I..."

"What?" Greywulf asked, her hesitation unusual.

"Nothing. It is nothing. We should rouse the others and begin traveling."

Greywulf nodded and began to turn, pausing only long enough to hear Jaheira say to him, "Still, these talks always make me feel…better. Thank you."

The remaining party members arose quickly and camp was broken down and readied for travel within the hour. A small breakfast and an expected late dinner in Athkatla got them moving, their night of sleep providing a much needed burst of energy for their path. They made good time and reaching visual range of the city before the day was half over, Minsc at lead with Greywulf to find the quickest paths by his skills as a ranger. Even as the ranger watched carefully for any signs of enemies as he led them, he glanced at the man beside him and said, "Eh... Greywulf?"

"Find something? No sign of any orcs or the like, right?"

"No, nothing like that... but Minsc wonders if you have talked to Aerie this morning."

"No, not yet." he frowned. "Why do you ask?"

"Minsc heard our new friend and Jaheira talking last night... they were either discussing new ways to beat down villains, or having a not-so-friendly talk. As much as everyone loves to come up with new ways to smackdown the bad guys..."

"You're leaning more toward the not-so-friendly talk." Greywulf finished, Minsc shrugging. "I suppose it wouldn't hurt; though why don't you talk to her, Minsc? She seems to get along with you quite well."

"I am trying to think of something to ask her, Greywulf." Minsc shook his head. "I have not yet decided how... I must consult Boo a while longer yet."

"If you say so." the sorcerer shrugged as he lagged behind a bit, calling for a quick break from their travels. The others were fine with it and had quickly spread for a few minutes breather, Greywulf making his way over to Aerie once more. Her face brightened at his approach, the two of them sitting together on the fairly comfortable plains.

"Is there something you wanted?" Aerie asked.

"Just checking up on you. Making sure you're doing all right." he shrugged. "Last night was a bit odd... you went to bed fairly quickly, and Jaheira checked in on you for a bit. I don't suppose you two had a nice little heart-to-heart with warm feelings and mutual respect?"

Aerie looked up at him as though to assure herself he was joking, not even bothering to answer him.

"Anything you want to talk to me about?" he prodded gently.

"No... well, not about last night anyway. B-but if you want, I'd... I'd like to tell you about before... about my wings."

Greywulf felt himself freeze just a bit, knowing just how delicate a subject this would be. "It's not something I want to push you on Aerie, if you don't-"

"No..." she managed, "You trusted me to tell about your past... I want to trust you enough to do the same."

She began before he could say any more. "I... I had a good childhood, everything was amazing. Soaring above the sky with outstretched wings, seeing everything from so high up…"

"It was more than beautiful... I'm not sure how to describe it. My parents loved me, I had my whole life ahead; everything went well until one day... I was soaring close to the earth, watching the humans below, even though my mother had warned me so often of getting too close to the lower races. I saw a young human boy running hard, as though fleeing something. Looking behind, he had a number of men chasing him, all with weapons drawn. I flew down and tried to help the child... but he was as scared of me as the men chasing him, and when I tried to pick him up and fly, he hit me. I was taken by surprise and tumbled to the ground... he struggled from my grasp and ran away, but by that time the men had caught up with me. They captured me and put me… put me in a cell. It was then I found out that they were slavers, and the boy was a runaway slave. He escaped, but I... I was a much greater prize to them."

"I'm sorry." Greywulf offered. "You did what you felt was right... but what happened to your wings?"

Aerie began to choke up slightly, her eyes beginning to tear.

"I'm sorry Aerie, please forgive me."

"No, I need to tell you the rest. I must deal with this eventually." Aerie said through tears. "When I was first enslaved, I was kept in a small cage and put on display. I had barely enough room to stand, much less spread my wings. I… I tried to warn my captor, I pleaded to him… but my wings withered and became bloody and diseased. I was delirious for days, about to die if something wasn't done. Finally, he was forced to… to… saw them off. It was… it was so painful and horrid! I-I've felt like a great part of me has been missing ever since, like I am incomplete. I do not feel beautiful or worth anything, Greywulf. Not anymore…"

"It's all right. You're among friends now." Greywulf comforted.

Trying to regain her composure, Aerie wiped her eyes, took a deep breath and continued, "It was a few months afterwards that a company of adventurers, including Uncle Quayle, fought the slavers and rescued me. Quayle took me to raise me and has been my guardian since then. I never could find my real parents... just as well. I'm not really one of them anymore."

"We will be your family, Aerie, as long as you will have us." Greywulf said, taking her by the shoulders gently. "As long as you are with us, you'll be safe; we will not let anything happen to you. Our first priority is always to protect everyone with us... we will not fail to save you if you're in trouble or anyone else here."

Aerie looked at Greywulf and said, "What about Khalid then, and Dynaheir?"

Greywulf stiffened slightly, letting go of Aerie. He said somewhat hesitantly, "So Jaheira told you then. I am not surprised that Minsc let Dynaheir's fate be known, but I am that Jaheira would tell you of Khalid."

"Jaheira told me nothing, but she did mention him again last night, in the tent." Aerie said. "Just the way everyone was so reluctant to speak his name, and since Jaheira seemed especially touchy about it…"

"Aerie, I can see that since you are not going to ask Jaheira and that you will figure it out on your own... I should be the one to tell you." Greywulf said quietly, taking her hands. "But I beg you, please be discreet with this information."

"I will."

"All right. Khalid is… was, Jaheira's husband. They were married before we met them, and very much in love... though they were not as obvious about it as others might have been. When we were attacked by Irenicus' forces and captured, Khalid was killed. All Jaheira knew was that we found his body, tortured and experimented on in the dungeon we escaped from. It really tore her up inside for the first few days... I'm surprised she's doing as well as she is now, to be honest."

"That's horrible! I didn't know." Aerie said sorrowfully.

"I never told Jaheira this... I felt it would be too hard for her to hear, but maybe I should." Greywulf mused quietly. "It might give her some sense of closure."

"What are you talking about?" Aerie asked.

"The night we were taken, when we were fighting for our lives; I lost consciousness, but awakened for a few seconds... just a few. The group had already been hit by a paralyzation spell so moving was out of the question... but I could see. And in that moment, I saw Khalid. Not down, not dead, not even paralyzed... but fighting. The spell was powerful, but Khalid's inner strength, his will to keep fighting and defend Jaheira... no magic could touch him that day."

"I saw him kill so many assassins, dropping any who dared come near Jaheira's body, a drive in his actions I had never seen before. But eventually some assassins hung back... they drew bows while others kept his attention by the sword. One arrow managed to pierce his armor around the shoulder; his sword arm fell limp, the weapon useless. Even without, Khalid did what he could to defend us, tackling and punching with his shield... but it was a doomed effort. Another arrow hit him in the chest before he finally died... never once did he give up."

There was silence, and Greywulf looked up at Aerie, only to see her turned away from him, her face filled with worry, hesitation and embarrassment. Greywulf frowned in confusion, but a chill ran down his spine when he turned to see Jaheira standing behind him, a look of barely contained raw emotion on her face.

"Greywulf, I would speak with you for a moment. _Alone_." Jaheira said, her voice trembling as she tried to keep herself under control.

Greywulf nodded and walked with her to a small hill, away from the rest of the group, the druid finally whirling as she unloaded her fury upon him.

"Who do you think you are!! What gave you this right?!" Jaheira demanded, her eyes flashing as she shouted at Greywulf. "What gave you the right to keep this from me, to deny me the last few memories of my husband's life? How dare you make this kind of judgment!!"

"Jaheira, please understand; I know-"

"No!! You do not understand anything!" she cut him off, fists clenched at her side. "These past few weeks I have spent torturing myself, thinking that if I could have escaped sooner, fought harder, been more ready, somehow I could have saved him. And you, whom I called friend and confidant, kept the last moments of my Khalid from me. Why?!"

"Jaheira, we are friends, and I would never intentionally do something to hurt you." Greywulf pleaded, trying to calm the woman.

"Friends?" she said incredulously. "Friends treat each other as equals! Friends do not keep secrets like this from each other! And friends certainly do not betray each others confidence to young girls like Aerie whom we barely know, telling her things that mean the world to me!"

Greywulf took Jaheira by the shoulders and tried to hold her still as she struggled, her shouts slowly turning to tears. "Jaheira... forgive me. I just didn't think you were ready to know. Not so soon afterward..."

Her fist lashed out unexpectedly, slamming into the side of his face and knocking him to the ground.

"Damn you, Greywulf…"

Greywulf slowly climbed to his feet and embraced Jaheira, holding her silently as she cried. Together, the sorcerer and the druid shared a moment of pain and comfort; memories of the man who was friend to one and husband to the other echoing in their mind.


	18. Part 1: Old Enemies And New Friends

"I am sorry, Greywulf; you did not deserve that." Jaheira said, her head bowed as she walked with him, a slight bruise on his cheek where she had punched him the day earlier. Despite the high and low emotional turmoil of the previous day, they had made it to Athkatla before nightfall and rested at the Crooked Crane Inn at the city gates, unwilling to travel all the way back to the Copper Coronet. Still, the night's rest had done everybody some good; all was at peace, if a relatively uneasy one.

"You're right... I really didn't deserve that." Greywulf said to Jaheira with a slight air of mischief in his voice as the two walked down the stairs of the inn toward the bar room, the rest of the group already waiting for the two to arrive.

He was rewarded with a quick slug to the arm, Jaheira looking slightly irritated but not really angry.

"Okay, maybe I deserved that."

"Yes, you did."

"Jaheira... I was wrong; keeping Khalid's last moments from you... it wasn't my decision to make. I just didn't want to hurt you... you've already gone through so much; I just felt you needed some time. But as you said... that's no excuse. I'm sorry."

"You did what you felt was best for me... though it hurt not knowing even more." she said quietly. "I thank you for your apology... but I will need some time to think."

"I understand. I will respect your wishes." He bowed slightly, heading toward the rest of the group who were gathered around one table.

"I see you two have finally decided to join us." Yoshimo remarked as he finished downing a mug of ale. "I was half tempted to pick-pocket four separate gentlemen while we were waiting."

"How are you feeling?" Aerie inquired, not really making a distinction about who she was directing the question towards.

"Fine, thank you." Jaheira said as she sat down next to Minsc.

"So, where are we to go next?" Minsc said through a mouthful of food. "Minsc and Boo's appetite for food may be stopped momentarily, but the appetite for adventure and vengeance against the killers and kidnappers will never die!"

"I think we should head to the Temple district next." Greywulf remarked. "There are a few holy items I need to complete the Bag of Gold I was going to make; if the rumors I heard from the barkeep last night are any good, we might even find some work. The church of Helm has been sending out its Watchknights recently, supposedly searching for mercenaries."

"Most unusual." Yoshimo said with a frown. "Watchknights of Helm are very reluctant to accept others into their affairs. This must be something serious for them to hire outsiders."

"I agree. Helm is a strict god; I would not expect him to entrust the work of the church to others." Jaheira murmured.

"Then we'll head to the Temple district as soon as we finish up here. If this works out, we could be one step closer to finding Imoen."

The five adventurers left the inn and headed through the city towards the Temple District, and made good time with Yoshimo leading them. They rounded another corner, passing a few particularly tall buildings on either side...

A crashing of shattered glass and splintering wood echoed high above them at a second story window, the debris raining down towards them. Minsc hurriedly swung his own body over Aerie and Yoshimo, Greywulf throwing up his cloak to block himself and Jaheira from the falling glass. The shards and splinters were not the only thing falling though; a body came tumbling out as well, slamming to the ground with a thud, barely moving after the impact. Greywulf lowered his cloak and quickly moved to the fallen man's side along with Aerie and Jaheira, Yoshimo already watching the window he had fallen from with an arrow drawn to his bow.

"What happened?" Aerie asked.

"Wild guess: this guy wasn't exactly popular with the folk up there in that building." Greywulf replied hurriedly, noting the man's weak pulse and condition.

"Hey!! Get away from that man!" A number of men had turned the corner from around the other side of the building, most likely coming from within. They approached with swords drawn, pointing at the downed man. "He's our business, so get out of here if you know what's good for you!"

"I presume you're out to get him some medical help, then?" Jaheira remarked as she deftly stepped between the man's body and the approaching ones. "He certainly needs it; though my guess is that the blood on your clothes and weapons isn't actually yours... but this man's. Am I correct?"

"You were warned! Get them-" he was cut off by the arrow Yoshimo had already loosed, Minsc rushing forward with both axes to strike a second of the surprised assailants down. Either by luck on the adventurers' part or a distinct lack of preparedness on the attackers' they fell quickly and without casualty to the party. Even as the last of them tried to flee, an arrow from Yoshimo brought him down before he could escape; Aerie and Jaheira were already back at the downed man as Yoshimo shouldered his bow again.

"How's he doing?" Greywulf asked, walking over to them.

"He's still alive, but barely." Aerie muttered. "My spells aren't working, I-"

"He's been poisoned; see the discoloration of his wounds?" Jaheira pointed out to Aerie. "Even so... my poison neutralization spells have not worked either. Whoever those men were did a powerful job on keeping him in such a condition."

"Get... get me to Rylock." his voice abruptly rasped out, managing through cracked and bruised lips. "He... he can help..."

"Where?" Greywulf asked quickly, the man already rapidly falling back into unconsciousness.

"Orange building... south... south-west Docks…"

"Do you know where he was speaking of?" Greywulf asked Yoshimo as Minsc knelt and picked the man up.

"I know the area well... and I do have a faint recollection of the building he might be talking about. It is well guarded at most times... it must be home to someone or something important."

"Aerie, you and Jaheira try to keep the man alive as long as possible as we go... Yoshimo, lead on."

They tore through the Slums and streets of Athkatla as fast as they could manage, civilians and peasants looking strangely at them as they went, but no one accosted them or stopped their progress. The faint sounds of Aerie and Jaheira trying different spells from the rear of the group could be heard faintly, before Aerie called out, "The spells aren't doing any good... the poison has spread through his whole body!"

"Aerie's right." Jaheira nodded grimly. "He won't last much longer and I dare not cast any stronger spells for fear of the Cowled Wizards detecting us."

"Fear not, we have just reached the Docks." Yoshimo reassured, the sounds of horns and gulls already greeting them as they passed through the outskirts. In other circumstances it would have been quite the interesting sight, the numerous sailors, taverns and drunkards; still, their urgent errand gave them no time for sightseeing. Yoshimo's expert guidance brought them to the far end of the Docks, the large, drab orange building that took up the furthest portion of the docks easily spotted. A man was standing outside, a medium build with sandy hair and studded leather armor. A green cloak was wrapped around his shoulders, probably a ready comfort in the damp, chilly air of the Docks. He was looking around with what seemed like a carefree, relaxed attitude, though his posture was nothing if not ready for action. Their beeline path for him took less than a second to catch his attention; his eyes narrowing in shock as he spotted the figure cradled in Minsc's grip.

"You are Rylock?" Greywulf asked breathlessly as they approached him.

"Yes... I am he. You have found Renfeld! What has happened to him; who has done this?" he exclaimed, glancing up at the group in a combination of wariness and gratitude.

"To tell you the truth, we didn't really let them live long enough to find out." Greywulf answered as Minsc handed Renfeld over, barely conscious as Rylock supported him. "We saved his life... but we think he's been poisoned. He stayed awake long enough to tell us to bring him here; he said you could help."

"Indeed I can." Rylock nodded, already helping the man back towards the door of the building. "No time can be spared though... please excuse me. Come back in a day or two and I will give you something for your troubles."

As soon as the men were inside, the door slammed shut along with the distinct sound of a lock clicking.

"Friendly sort." Yoshimo remarked.

"Maybe, but we did just save that man's life; that and a promised reward of what I assume is gold, I'd say we've done our good deed for the day." Greywulf said.

"Even so, the gold is adding up quickly." the thief noted. "I would suggest you complete the spell for the Bag of Gold soon."

"Once we get to the Temple District. We're done here."

The group left the building, but before they had even left visual range of the construct, a man dressed in a brightly colored mage's robe approached them with an unusual trot, calling out imperiously.

"You! Yes, you with the unbearable odor. I require your assistance, and require it right away."

"Are you talking to us?" Greywulf said, frowning.

The man sighed, though he frowned for moment, his expression abruptly changing to curiosity as his voice took on a high-pitched, squeal like tone. "Hmm... there is indeed a most pontiferous odor about you. You don't perchance let the rabbits in your sleeping bag, do you? Ah well, yes! I am talking to you. I have a job for you and I will reward you handsomely for it... if the rabbits don't get you first."

Even without seeing the man's face clearly, Greywulf had a sneaking suspicion who this wizard was... by the tightness across Jaheira's face, she had probably guessed as well. As expected, the oddly shaped tattoos lining his eyes and mouth along with the wild-eyed insane grin of the Zhentarim wizard was unmistakable. "Xzar... I should have known you'd pop up again."

"Really? Am I becoming so predictable? And why do you speak to me like such an old friend? I do not seem to remember an oaf such as yourself. I would have remembered a face such as yours and the smell that accompanied it. Monty would know if he were still here."

"Perhaps you do not remember the last time we met." Jaheira snarled, tightening the grip on her spear.

"I remember you well enough, Harper wench." he snarled angrily, before his expression abruptly changed to a curious confusion. "But not you. Hmm."

"Right. The same insane wizard." Greywulf said, folding his arms testily. "Of course you really should remember us, considering we killed you and Montaron right after you tried to betray us to Sarevok in Baldur's Gate. Which brings us to the question; why are you still alive, and why shouldn't we kill you again?"

Xzar sniffed, "Obviously someone of more wisdom than you saw the potential Monty and I had and paid to resurrect us with magic. But this is all beside the point."

"Yes, it is." Jaheira said, stepping up with a scowl. "What is it you want from us? And where is your skulking halfling thief of a friend?"

"That's it!" he said brightly. "I knew I got out of bed for a reason. You see that building over there, the one you delivered the sickly man to? You were probably too daft to realize it, but it is the local base of operations for the Harpers. I require you to infiltrate them for me. You are not members... though the heartless mongrel you travel with might object. If you don't mind, I'd just as soon satisfy my bloodlust and kill her now. Will that be okay?"

"You are not a nice man." Minsc rumbled with a frown, stepping up to pick Xzar off the ground by the front of his robes. "Apologize to Jaheira and leave her alone, or Minsc will be forced to beat some sense into you."

"Oh fine... spoilsport." Xzar pouted as Minsc slowly lowered him, the madman bowing to Jaheira in an overexaggerated motion. "I'm so sorry you're a heartless Harper mongrel. Anyhow, Monty was recently caught when attempting to get a closer look inside the Harpers' base..."

"You mean he was caught pilfering the inside." Yoshimo said with a bemused look.

"Yes, well, if Montaron is still alive, I wish to have him back. Get moving."

"And why, precisely, should we help you?" Jaheira demanded, her patience rapidly disappearing. "It sounds as though Montaron got exactly what he deserved."

"You bore me with your convictions and morals." Xzar yawned. "Do this for me and I will pay you a sum of 1000 gold coins, a fortune for simpletons like yourself. Do we have a deal?"

The promise of so much coin ran itself through his mind for a moment; Greywulf opened his mouth as though to speak immediately... then glanced over at Jaheira, obviously deferring to her judgment on the matter. "Jaheira... you know I wouldn't work with him if we had another choice... but we need money. So it's your call. You know what this might entail... and we won't do this if you have a problem with it."

Jaheira glared at Xzar's childish attempt at making doe-eyes to look innocent before sighing and responding. "It is a lot of money, true. And perhaps my status as a Harper may grant us some measure of leverage in making any bargains or appeals for Montaron. Very well... though I only do this for Imoen's sake. I still doubt they will approve of us trying to release one of their captives."

"You've got a deal, Xzar... but you'd better come through with the money."

Xzar smiled and said, "Of course! I'm saddened that you think you can't trust me, though. After all we've been through... I'm just a poor little girl looking for my Monty... boo-hoo. Well, you'd best be going. As an added bonus, I have sources in the Cowled Wizards through whom I may be able to find out information about your Imoen. I advise you to hurry, as with your incompetence you will need all the time you can get."

He left with a titter of mad laughter, Greywulf rolling his eyes in disgust as the mage left. "You traveled with him for a while?"

He sighed before answering Aerie, "Xzar and Montaron were some of the first people Imoen and I found after Gorion died... they offered to join us. We didn't know what we were doing... and yes, he was just as insane before. He can fight well enough if the occasion arises... don't underestimate him."

They turned back to the building, hope renewed at rescuing Imoen sooner, despite the source. Still, after they reached the building no one answered the door when knocked upon, and there was no sign of Rylock or any other Harper guard they might speak with.

"What now?" Aerie asked, peering to see any possible entrances or openings besides the front door.

"I could get us in." Yoshimo said with a grin as his hands wandered down toward the thieving tools on his belt.

"No, we don't need to get in trouble with the Harpers for supposed stealing." Greywulf noted. "We'll come back later, but right now we still need to get to the Temple district and buy some of the spell ingredients I need. Jaheira, you and Yoshimo wait here. If anything comes up with the Harpers, you two should be able to take care of it... but be careful. Aerie, Minsc, you two come with me and we'll buy those ingredients at the Temple shops. We'll also check out the Temple of Helm and see if there's work to be found. We'll meet back here by nightfall."

Jaheira and Yoshimo nodded and walked to a point where they could observe the Harper Hold relatively unnoticed as the other three left the Docks and headed to the Temple District, their monetary goal finally beginning to come into focus.

X X X X X X X

The Master of the Cowled Wizards' on Spellhold, the very man who had overseen and passed judgment upon Irenicus and Imoen, walked in the halls of their headquarters, his mind calculating and contemplating the affairs over which he had authority. It had been over a week since the two involved in the Waukeen's Promenade disturbance had been sentenced... and so far, all had been quiet on the island. He did not venture there personally very often, nor would he truly wish to. Wanev was a good enough 'director,' for what took place on that cursed island. In all honesty, there were not very many places or things he feared, he was one of the greatest of the Cowled Wizards' ranks. But Spellhold was a place of darkness and madness, where even he placed a healthy respect.

Still... there was no cause for him to worry, nor had there been for some time now. He rarely ventured to the island except for extreme circumstances. It was just that ever since capturing that one mage... Irenicus. He had shown no fear when facing their numbers, and after hearing the account of the battle, his surrender had hardly seemed necessary. He had been utterly unafraid of him when he had sentenced him, and even now his words still tugged at the back of his mind. He shook it away angrily, continuing his walk down the halls...

"Sir! We've... we've just received word from Spellhold!"

He whirled angrily, spying two younger Cowled Wizards' approaching, breathless as they approached. "What are you talking about? What's going on!"

"The new prisoner... our members there report he's escaped! They've requested help, soon!"

The man's blood chilled at the thought... he forced himself to calm down. It was just one man, worn from escaping the magical cells... against an island full of Cowled Wizards. He scowled and said, "You two, with me. We transport to Spellhold now."

Their dimension doors opened as he attuned them all to the island and within brief minutes they found themselves in the halls of the feared asylum... amidst devastation. Crumbled pillars and destroyed furniture lay everywhere, along with bodies of Cowled Wizards who had been slaughtered mercilessly. Large stacks of debris were set aflame, ashes and dust thickening the air. His heart nearly jumped from his chest at the sight but he pushed it away and growled, "Come on... we must find him before he-"

"Finds you?"

The indifferent tone of Irenicus echoed through the room as the mage stepped out from behind a half-collapsed pillar, a crackle of electricity surging over one of his clenched fists. The Master gaped at him for a split second before beginning to raise his hands and shout his spells... too late. Irenicus flashed one palm outward with a sneer, orange light blazing to blind all three of them. As the Master tried to shield his eyes, he could barely hear Irenicus shouting over the roar of magic power. "I cannot be caged!"

The sound of something ripping through a man's body burned into his hearing, the thud of dead weight falling to the ground coming immediately after. He tried to cast a dispel on himself, fighting the swell of panic that threatened to overwhelm him-

"I cannot be controlled!"

He heard the sound of flesh hardening and knew immediately the fate that had befallen his other underling who had come. His vision returned just in time to see Irenicus standing before a stone statue of a terrified Cowled Wizard, his fist reared back.

"Understand this as you die, ever pathetic, ever fools... that I cannot, will not be stopped." Irenicus hissed as he glared at him... before smashing his fist into the statue with all the fury of a madman, obliterating it into hundreds of pieces. He took a step toward the man, walking slowly and steadily at the Master, a vindictive fire in his gruesome gaze.

The lone Cowled Wizard left spat the words to a spell, sending an arcing chain of lightning along the ground towards Irenicus, but the mage deflected it with a wave of his hand as he continued his approach. He hurriedly tried another spell, this time a standard fireball... but Irenicus walked out of the smoking remains of the hall, unscathed once more. He screeched in disbelief and fear as Irenicus drew so close, finally managing a blast of magic missiles... Irenicus closed his eyes as they hit him, the edges of his mouth curling upward. "Magic Missiles? Please."

The mage's hands shot out like lightning, grasping the wrists of the Cowled Wizard, clenching tighter as he forced him to his knees, the sounds of his wrists popping while he fell. Even as he struggled, Irenicus' hands burst into flame, scorching the man amidst screams of terror and pain. Finally he could bear no more and cried out. "Mercy... please!"

Irenicus looked down at the man, his hands burnt and useless... then chuckled, bending down to his face. "Very well. I will spare your life."

Irenicus took a few steps back before beginning a swirl of magical incantations and arcane gestures, the Cowled Wizard on his knees slowly beginning to realize just what spell he was completing... but by the time he had figured it out, there was nothing he could have done about it. As Irenicus neared the end of his magics, a cage of solid magic and energy encased the man, sweeping him up as the ritual finished. He could only reach one hand feebly through the bars and cry out. "But... you said-"

"I'd let you live? And so I shall." Irenicus spat, looking in disgust at the man as he finished his magics. "You are familiar with the spell Imprisonment... you most certainly will not die. You will live for eternity under the earth, forever dying of hunger and thirst but never dying, spending the countless millennia in your prison but never aging, unable to do anything... but grow mad with the solitude and torment. Indeed you shall live... but perhaps you prefer death now."

The Master gave out one final cry... and then he was gone. Irenicus watched the spot he had been in for a moment, the memory of his arrogance at the sentencing... he turned toward the hall leading to the cells with a creeping smile as he called out lightly, a mocking tone in his voice. "Imoen..."

X X X X X X X

"Yoshimo, you do not need to look at me every time I drop my head. I am fine." Jaheira sighed as the two of them continued their surveillance of the Harper Hold. Greywulf and the others had been gone nearly five hours, and the sun was already beginning to sink in the skies above. Yoshimo's patience was not quite as hardened as Jaheira's; to make up for it he had been fidgeting something fierce as of late, usually looking towards Jaheira every time she made any movement at all.

"If that is so, then I am glad." Yoshimo said with his customary grin. "If you should want for anything, I will be eager to please."

"Of that I am sure," Jaheira replied with a roll of the eyes. "But I will keep my thoughts to myself on this matter."

Yoshimo looked at Jaheira's expression and said with a bit of thoughtfulness taking the place of the usual jesting tone in his voice, "Ah, memories of the fallen are the sweetest, are they not? You miss your husband and think of him often, to bring you comfort."

"I suppose that is true, though as of late there has been little comfort to get." she sighed. The altercation she and Greywulf had on the way here, despite only involving the two of them, was fairly easily overheard and thus everyone in the party knew just what had been said and happened. If Yoshimo wished to talk seriously for a moment... she was too emotionally drained to act defensive and secretive. "Perhaps... perhaps now that I know how Khalid died, I might finally be able to get some closure to this event. I do not wish to dwell on this for the rest of my life."

"Nor should you." Yoshimo encouraged. "You are still young and have much of your life ahead of you, even more so with your elven heritage. Though the death of Khalid is indeed a sad event in your life, it is still that: a single event. When compared to all the memories you have of his life and the love you two shared, his death should be overshadowed by the joy you two experienced together."

Jaheira looked down and smiled slightly, before turning her gaze to Yoshimo again. "You are right. Khalid's death is but a minute portion of the life we lived. To cover his life up with his death would be a dishonor. You show wisdom, Yoshimo... admittedly, more than I had given you credit for."

"I am full of surprises." Yoshimo said with a small laugh. "In fact, since it is just you and me here, I could show you more of the surprises I contain, seeing as how you are such a beautiful woman, and I-"

Jaheira cut him off, not quite so drained that she could not see where this was leading... another tacky come-on. "Quit while you're ahead."

"Right. I think I'll just watch the Harper Hold now." Yoshimo said, hushing himself and turning back to his surveillance, sneaking small looks at Jaheira when he thought she was not looking.

Jaheira kept watching, though her thoughts poured over what she and Yoshimo had said. _Khalid… You know how much I loved you. I will never forget what you meant to me. But I cannot…will not spend the rest of my life in regret. It is not what I, nor you, would want for me. I must begin to move on, if I am to survive._

"What if Greywulf and the others do not make it back before nightfall?" Yoshimo voiced as he scanned the area. "What then?"

"Greywulf will come. He has never failed me, nor the team before." she replied, a new sense of determination and strength in her eyes. "If not, then we go to find him. You have not been on a team very often, have you?"

"No, I suppose not, at least until recently. I am used to depending on nobody but myself and have trouble relying upon others to fight my battles for me." he admitted.

"True, it is not an easy thing to deal with at first." Jaheira nodded. "For many weeks after Khalid and I joined Greywulf and Imoen, I did not take to following orders well, as any of the team would concur. I did not think Greywulf capable of making the tough decisions necessary to lead the group. But as time passed, Greywulf proved himself to be capable of the job. I trust him now, perhaps more than ever. Still, sometimes I…"

Jaheira cut herself off abruptly, realizing she had said more than intended. Yoshimo noticed immediately, "Still what?"

"Nothing. I am sorry, I meant nothing more than I said. Please excuse me; I am still somewhat tired."

Yoshimo nodded and turned back to his surveillance, while Jaheira, somewhat shaken did the same. _I...I almost let it slip. I must keep my thoughts more under control, or next time I will slip in Greywulf's presence. I say that I trust Greywulf, and I insist everyone else should do the same, but am I trying to convince them of that, or convince myself? No. No, I must keep faith in Greywulf. I must remember who he is, and who he has shown himself to be, not… what he could become. Child of Bhaal or not, he is a friend and I must believe in him. He has helped me too much for me to turn my trust away now, when he might need it most. But no matter how hard I try, I cannot help but wonder: the prophecies centered around the Bhaalspawn, the tidings of blood and death, are they about him? The rage, the anger and power he summoned when fighting Sarevok, it was… frightening. He is the most powerful man I have ever met, can he resist the evil within him? I wish I could know for certain._

Shaking her head to clear the thoughts of Greywulf from her, she returned her focus on the Harper Hold, yet unable to rid herself of the nagging doubts in the back of her mind.

X X X X X X X

"Minsc... may I ask you something?"

Minsc looked down at Aerie, smiling broadly at her. "Of course.. what is it you want to know? Is there some villain you want me to-"

"No, I just..." Aerie considered her words carefully as the three of them neared the Temple District. "I just was wondering why you seem so... well, protective. Of me, I mean. I-It's not that I don't appreciate it Minsc... I really do. But you just seem so concerned with staying close to me..."

"Why would you say that?" Minsc asked innocently, before abruptly turning to growl at a passing drunk who was just beginning to stagger towards Aerie, quickly sending him off the other way.

"Exactly." Aerie laughed lightly, looking at Minsc in friendly confusion. "I know I'm not very experienced, but you shouldn't feel like you have to protect me all the time if you don't want to."

Minsc squirmed a bit, an odd sight for the big ranger. Still... he had been trying to find the right time to ask, and this was the best opportunity he had found so far. "Well, I... Dynaheir... she was my witch, and I... I was supposed to protect her. I failed in this... my dajemma is lost and I will not be able to prove myself to the Berserker Lodge of home. But... but perhaps if I could protect a new witch... if I prove myself by protecting another witch, I may regain my honor. You... you are a fine witch... and I must protect one... would you allow Boo and I to complete our dajemma with you?"

"I- me?" Aerie said, taken aback, not expecting this in the least.

"See, Minsc and Boo are sworn to protect a witch on our dajemma, and so we are nothing without a witch. So we wonder... would you be our witch? We would take you as ours to protect, and you would travel with us to the end of our dajemma."

Aerie smiled with pleasant surprise, thinking of what he had asked her, such a new member of the group and the trust he placed in her for this. She thought for a moment of the ranger before her, realizing just what she would be accepting. Not just his unconditional protection, but being his mental guide… no small task. Still, he looked at her with such earnestness and willingness... she finally said with as much solemnity as she could muster, "Yes Minsc, if you will be my guardian, I will be your witch. Dynaheir's death will not go unavenged."

Minsc's eyes lit up as he unsheathed his sword and raised it as he looked to the sky. "My sword, my soul, my hamster… all of these I pledge to use to protect…Aerie, my new witch."

Before Aerie could say anything, Minsc bellowed with all his might, "HEAR THAT, EVIL? MINSC AND BOO HAVE A NEW WITCH! WOE IS YOU!"

Aerie blushed with embarrassment as Greywulf rolled his eyes with a smile and said, "All right, while I'm extremely happy for both of you, we need to get to the Temple of Helm before the night falls. We still have to meet up with Yoshimo and Jaheira back at the Harper Hold, remember?"

The two nodded and followed Greywulf as he led them through the arch leading into the Temple district, finally coming into sight of the splendor of all the different Temples devoted to various gods, covered with different symbols of their deities.

"I've never seen so many beautiful structures before." Aerie said in wonder, gazing at the buildings.

"We're looking for the Temple of Helm," Greywulf began, "The symbol is a-"

Aerie cut him off and said, "That one over there!"

Greywulf looked at where Aerie was pointed, to find in surprise that it was indeed the Temple they were searching for. The Temple of Helm stood tall above most of the others, the Hand of Helm glistening in the evening light.

"Good eye." Greywulf complimented as they headed over to the temple, passing the various clerics and peasants who roamed the streets. They reached it without incident, entering... only to find two Watchknights of Helm blocking their path, eyeing them with an oddly expectant look. "You three... come with us. Helm has seen your arrival and knows why you have come."

"Whoa there... you knew we were coming?" Greywulf asked cautiously.

"Of course." one said as he turned, heading back into the depths of the Temple, expecting them to follow. "Helm sees all... know this as you serve."

The other knight seemed to wait for them to move, slowly following behind the three as they entered the majestic Temple. Silver and gold adorned the walls, patterned in symbols reflecting the character and avatars of Helm. A large hand was situated in the midst of the room, holding a globe. In the midst was a large eye engraved in marble. The eye was also on the floor, and in the pillar bases and tops. Attached to the hand in the middle was a large stone seat, where the High Watcher stood.

Unlike the other Watchknights, this man was not only broader in figure, but his armor was much more impressive. An eye was engraved on the breastplate of the armor and on the shield as well. The sword was radiant in the blade and hilt, a large pommel jewel embedded in the sword. The helm he wore was adorned with two large wings coming from both sides, the color silver and emblazoned with small jewels. Next to him stood two other Watchknights, similar to the ones scattered about the temple along with the clerics of Helm.

"Greetings... child of the gods. We have awaited your arrival." he said, stepping forward to meet them face on. "I am Sir Oisig, High Watcher of Helm; you are Greywulf, Aerie, and Minsc."

"How do you know of us?" Minsc frowned, Greywulf's mind asking the very same question; though more importantly why they had taken the time to find out not only the identity of the party but his heritage as well.

"We know of you because the all-seeing Helm has chosen you. He revealed you... the son of a god, as the chosen one. Your parentage gives you the mark of one who can understand this task, and who will see its necessity. The fact that you came of your own free will is only further proof of this truth. You came in search of gold, correct? By doing the will of Helm you may indeed find what you seek."

"Chosen to do what?" Greywulf said hesitantly. "You'll forgive me, but you have us at something of a disadvantage... no divine insight on our part, you know."

Sir Oisig smiled wryly, leading them over to a panel of crystals that were inlaid within the wall of one side of the Temple, a masterpiece of artwork. "How much do you know of Helm, Greywulf?"

"I know he is the guardian god... the watcher over the earthly and divine realms." Greywulf mused.

"And the only god Ao allowed to remain divine during the cataclysms of the Time of Troubles. Much devastation and chaos was wrought from those days... gods died, gods were created, entire pantheons rose and fell." he replied, running one gauntleted hand over the crystals. "Still, the days of new gods rising in the Realms is over for the most part... but not unheard of."

"What are you talking about? What does this have to do with us?" Aerie asked in confusion.

"Behold!" Oisig declared as the crystals before him flashed, visions swirling within, forming shapes of familiarity... the streets of the Temple District, a crowd of people gathered around one man, flowing robes draped off his arms and back, a long band of cloth wrapped around his head and covering his eyes.

The figure raised his hands and shouted,_ "Listen to me, brothers and sisters! Heed my words. We have been chosen as the recipients of a most holy miracle, one that should neither be dismissed nor ignored! I, Gaal... I, who have been stripped of my eyes most mercifully, have been shown the truth that has eluded the sighted! The gods that you worship are false gods, icons that serve to increase the wealth of churches and heathens! Listen to them not!"_

_"Blasphemy!" _a priest of Lathander could be seen pushing past the crowds to face the prophet. _"The Morninglord has always shown his providence and light through the lands... his presence among us is unquestionable!"_

_"Is it, priest? I ask all of you to question, for a moment, if what the priest says is true. Yes, his false god grants him power to fuel his 'divine' spells, much as any wizard might possess. I say that the churches lie to you! They claim their gods are present when they do nothing other than require your coin to fill their pockets!"_

The clamor of much of the crowd began rising... apparently the prophet had been speaking far longer than Greywulf had seen. Shouts of agreements and disagreements roared back and forth, even as Gaal and the priest of Lathander, joined by a Watchknight of Helm continued to debate furiously.

_"This is a desecration of the heavens you speak of!" _

_"Perhaps, knight... I say that there is still hope in abandoning your foolish idols and embracing the one true god! The Unseeing Eye, he whose power has given me a second sight, shows me the truth and light of divine protection and succor!"_

_"I have heard enough of your heresy! You disavow Helm's power; feel his justice for your blasphemy!"_

The Watchknight moved forward, unsheathing his blade... Gaal shouted words of his own, light flashing all about as the Helmite was driven back. Even as the flash cleared, Gaal was gone along well as a majority of the crowd, all those who had supported Gaal's words.

The crystals clouded once again, Oisig turning back to them with grim determination on his face. "You have seen the message that fool in the streets perpetuates. This cannot be allowed to continue; if anything he says is true, it would only disrupt the delicate balance of power in the heavens. Should he be lying, not only is his blasphemy deserving of death, but it corrupts the faithful and harms those who have been led astray. You have been chosen by Helm to investigate this matter."

"And you think he's lying... as incredible as his claims are, you did point out that gods can still be created and reborn in this age." Greywulf reminded. "If we do take this job for you... what evidence do we have to support us? Pitting ourselves against a real faith would be folly."

"You yourself said Helm was the guardian of the divine as well as the earthly," Oisig replied, "The emergence of a new deity could not go unnoticed by the Great Guard. Here is what we offer: for your service in this matter, we will aid you in yours; a payment I think you will find most satisfactory in your own search for coin."

Greywulf almost asked what the payment would be... then decided against it. Trust was a fickle thing these days and the Helmites were keepers of their word if nothing else. Showing a disbelief in their honesty would not be very conducive to friendly working terms. "Tell us what would you have us do, and I will decide."

"He of the Unsleeping Eyes must know of this cult... the blindness they promote is abhorrent to Helm. We ask you to investigate and identify what is happening. The Vigilant One informs that the cult is underground and close, but we cannot see past the sewers. You must infiltrate, as friend or conqueror. You must suffer the filth of the sewers to find the filth of the cult. They are not hiding amidst the pipes, so there must be a passage leading further away." Oisig intoned.

"A logical move, one which I believe we can make on your behalf. We accept." Greywulf said. "Still... I fear we have many things we must attend to first. Our companions await us in the Docks, and it could be many days before we begin the investigation."

Oisig looked at Greywulf with a stony gaze and said, "Fear not. You have been chosen by Helm, and he is patient. Whether now or later, it shall be done. A paladin, servant of Torm and ally of Helm, is preparing to set out to investigate these events as well and aid you in your task; Sir Keldorn Firecam is his name. He will head there first to investigate, though we will ensure he remains until you are ready; Helm will tell us when you are prepared. For now, do what you must. May the Great Guard give light to all wrongs against you."

They left Oisig's presence and found an acolyte to purchase the ingredients they required as well as some healing potions before leaving. Greywulf waited until they were a distance away from the Temple before speaking to his companions. "What do you think? I am in agreement with the Helmites in this matter... if the vision was true, then this would change the entire nature of the divine pantheon. It must at the very least be investigated. Besides... the reward would be more than helpful."

"I think we're taking on too much as it is." Aerie remarked. "We're aiding Xzar, we still need to complete the Bag of Gold, pick up Jaheira and Yoshimo, and meet the other group in the Graveyard if you still want to. I say we wait on this matter until we have done everything else."

"But we will manage." Minsc nodded firmly. "More quests mean more butt-kicking and Minsc polished his sword last night. Let the blind man come! Minsc stands ready."

"Maybe, but I tend to agree with Aerie." Greywulf said after a moment of deliberation. "We'll go find the others first, see what we can do about the Harper Hold and we'll see from there. I don't trust Valen and her companions... but their offer is cheaper and money is hard to come by. We'll see when we get there."

Even as they continued their journey back to the Docks, Greywulf turned to Aerie and asked, "By the way, how did you know the symbol of Helm so easily? You seemed to be quite knowledgeable on the symbols in the Temple district."

Aerie blushed and said, "Oh... one of the things Quayle introduced me to as his daughter was the pantheon of surface gods. Since I knew very little of the Avariel gods, I took a different god for my own that Quayle taught me of. I follow Baervan Wildwanderer."

"The gnomish god of the woods." Greywulf mused. "Quayle's subtle influence, perhaps?"

"He is a very respectable deity... I have never been abandoned by him in my need." Aerie defended. "He has protected me since I began following him."

"I meant no offense." Greywulf pacified. "I was just surprised, that's all."

"What about you, Minsc?" Aerie asked. "Is there a deity you follow?"

"No... I have always found that such a thing would require too much time and effort. Boo has always been sufficient to guide me in my path, to tell me right from wrong. Though... I think if there was ever a god of butt-kicking, I might be persuaded. Maybe."


	19. Part 1: Temptations

_"Ha... good. Very good... though your attacks are still too slow."_

_The Kara-Turan teenage girl fumed with irritation as the older boy dodged her hasty swing with the white wax staff, his twin wooden sparring swords flashing out easily to deflect the attack. He could be so annoying when sparring with her, especially when he knew he was winning... her black hair whirled as she spun, trying an attack from the opposite direction; this time the boy was forced to dodge aside, rolling away from her attack. Seeing an opportunity with him on the ground, his arms and swords on the other side of her, she darted towards him while raising the staff high to strike..._

_"Oooff!" the wind inside her lungs was exhaled forcibly as she felt his foot strike her stomach, flashing out far faster than she would have imagined. She staggered away, hoping to gain her bearings and breath before- too late. _

_He had already leapt to his feet and charged, one blade slashing down at her from high, the girl barely fast enough to block with the main part of her staff... and not nearly fast enough to counter the other wooden sword as it slapped against her torso, a deadly blow had it been a real blade._

_"I win again, sister... though it took me a whole minute and twenty seconds longer this time." he grinned, wiping his own hair from his sweaty face as he lowered his wooden swords. She dropped the staff as the two of them walked towards the other end of the yard, a cool breeze bringing relief to their tired bodies. "You should learn not raise your weapon high enough to leave your torso unguarded; but still, if I am not careful, you will overtake me soon."_

_"You know I prefer the sword to the staff." she glared, taking a drink from the pitcher of water layed out on a table there near the house where they trained. "If our weapons were reversed-"_

_"Ah, but they were not, were they?" he tsked, giving the grin that infuriated her even while so many Kara-Turan girls swooned over it. "You must learn to make do with what tools you have on hand. If all you have is a mop handle while your opponent wields a katana... it should make no difference if you truly seek the path of the warrior."_

_"You are one to talk of the warrior's path." she growled, still short of breath from the blow he had given her to the solar plexus. "You who chooses to be a common thie-"_

_"I am no thief!" he snapped, voice rising in tone abruptly. "I am not dishonoring our family!"_

_"A manhunter then, if the other term displeases you so." she said, still stubborn in tone, but perhaps with a little softer expression. "You still have not explained to me why you have not trained as a warrior. You fight well enough-"_

_"And ruin this face in endless fights and scraps?" he chuckled, his burst of irritation fading quickly, unable to stay angry with her of all people for very long. "Truly, I do not wish to brawl and battle all my days. The path of excitement and adventure beckons this man, the thrill of the hunt... though his plans took quite an upset when his younger sister decided not to folow him on such quests for coin and danger. I never could convince you when you had made your mind up about something."_

_"No, and you never will." she said with a challenge in her voice. "Now pick up that staff and hand me those swords... let us see how you fare a second time."_

_The young man shook his head and grinned, tossing her both wooden weapons as he picked up the staff with ease. "Ready, then, sister?"_

_"Prepare to lose, Yoshimo."_

Yoshimo's eyes flashed open with a start, realizing in a split second that he had dozed off while standing guard with Jaheira. Their watch was now in the eighth hour and unless something had changed while he had been sleeping, there was still no sign of the rest of the party. He sighed, running one hand over his face in a vain attempt to drive the fatigue and weariness from his mind. Bad enough that he allowed himself to let his guard down in such a place as this, he would have to dream about her again. He had thought those dreams were ended... mostly, anyway. Why would he have returned to such nighttime visions, especially in the company of these particular men and women-

The sudden feel of metal clutched in his left hand brought his attention down to see what he held. He opened it slowly, slowly nodding in realization. A small golden locket lay open there, the pictures inside staring back up at him with their unchanging faces, unaware of any treachery, any malice... truly, he envied them at times.

"I see you have awoken from your nap."

He almost flinched but kept it mostly under control, his only movement a quick closing of the locket as he deftly tucked it away. "Jaheira... surely you know I was not asleep; I was merely-"

"Resting your eyes?" she snorted. "Please. No excuse is better than a poor one."

He sighed, then glanced around at the foggy, darkened docks again. "How long was I-"

"Sleeping? No more than fifteen minutes or so." she shrugged. "I did not see the harm in you taking a rest for a little while. I would have awoken you soon enough if you had not done it yourself. At least you do not snore like Minsc."

"Ah yes... I have heard his nighttime noises." he grinned. "At times I wondered if it was an earthquake striking our inn."

"You seemed somewhat restless while you slept..." Jaheira noted as she continued her vigil. "You continued grabbing at your tunic until you pulled something out. What was it?"

"Nothing... just a trinket; something to remind me of home." Yoshimo coughed, glancing sideways at Jaheira to see if there was any hint of confrontation in her face. He quickly moved on, "The others have not arrived yet... do you think they are all right?"

"I cannot say... I honestly expected them to have returned by now." she said grimly. "Still, one would think that between the three of them they would have no problems in finding their way back."

"Minsc is an impressive force to be sure, but the streets of Athkatla are not as friendly as they once were, especially as of late. Perhaps we should-"

"Oy! Where's the rest of you?"

They whirled with weapons ready at the unexpected intrusion, only to see the small figure of a child standing behind them, squinting in the dim light.

"Brus? What are you doing here?" Jaheira questioned, recognizing the child as she lowered her spear.

"I was s'posed to deliver a message about the offer from the Shadow Thieves. Where's that Greywulf?"

"He is preoccupied right now and will return. Tell me your message and I will inform him." she said easily.

"Fine by me." Brus shrugged. "So long as Uncle Gaelan pays me. He told me to tell you that he knows you've been approached by the other guild... before you decide anything, come see him at his house in the slums."

"Did he mention specifics?" Yoshimo asked with a frown.

"No... not to me anyway. I'm just the messenger... he'll be waiting whenever you wanna go. Be seeing ya; I've got some gold to collect!" Brus ran off again, disappearing back into the streets.

"What do you think?" Jaheira asked Yoshimo.

"Aside from embarassment at letting a child approach without me noticing? Hmm... it's obvious that the Shadow Thieves are watching us, I doubt they will let us take the other side of this conflict without retribution. Still... if we are willing to risk their wrath, 5,000 gold is a big difference; besides, eh… Valen was quite a bit more attractive than Mr. Bayle."

Jaheira snorted and said, "Yoshimo, I must have been hearing things earlier... it could not possibly have been you to whom I attributed wisdom."

Before Yoshimo could come up with a quick retort, the sound of a man's scream echoed through the docks, just loud enough for them to catch it. Neither of them said anything or hesitated; they both immediately took off in the direction of the cries, spear and katanas drawn and ready. Even as they kept moving, the sounds of battle began to grow more distinct... until they abruptly died out. Another few minutes passed in silence except for the sound of their rapid footfalls. Finally the sight of three figures shadowed in darkness, a number of bodies littered about them on the ground, came into view through the fog before them. Weapons were almost raised again as Yoshimo and Jaheira approached... but all relaxed as the identities of both groups became apparent, the whole party finally reunited.

"Good evening, all." Greywulf said, leaning heavily on his quarterstaff. "I trust you two didn't miss us too much?"

"Not at all... we were just getting comfortable when we had to come and rescue you." Yoshimo replied evenly.

"No words express how much I wanted you to return. " Jaheira said with a look of half-mock, half-real relief. "What happened here?"

"The business in the Temple district took a bit longer than we had anticipated... but we do have another job lined up, one that should pay fairly well. As far as this particular mess... well, a few punks decided our gear looked expensive enough to try and steal."

"A few?" Yoshimo raised one eyebrow as he glanced down at the bodies.

"Okay... twelve. After the first six or so fell, the others decided to run for it." he shrugged. "Either way, I'm glad you two had a good time without us. The Bag of Gold has been completed and all our funds are currently inside. Anything to report about the Harper Hold?"

"Not much." Jaheira admitted. "No easy methods of entry nor any structural weaknesses. No one came in, no one came out. Still, if this is like most Holds then Rylock or someone else will emerge tomorrow as a more visible guard and watcher."

"Don't forget the message from Brus." Yoshimo noted.

"Brus? Another contact from Gaelan Bayle, I presume?" Greywulf said.

"Exactly. He wishes to speak with us before we contact the other guild... should we even decide to do so." Jaheira explained. "No details were given, but I would rather take their offer than the other guild. Still, do as you see fit."

"Right... since we've had no real luck here, we'll head to Bayle's and see what he has to say. Some sleep afterwards and we'll try the Harper Hold again in the morning. Everybody ready?" Greywulf said as he adjusted the weight of his pack.

"Greywulf... your arm." Yoshimo frowned, gesturing to a stain of red on his robe. "Were you injured in this battle?"

"Not really... the wound I got fighting the slavers in the Coronet got knocked a little; it just got a bit strained and reopened, that's all." he shrugged.

"Then perhaps I should redress it." Jaheira began to reach for the cleaning and medical supplies she kept on her belt for quick access, but Greywulf coughed slightly, "No, it's fine... Aerie already took care of it."

Jaheira's hands stopped for a moment, looking up at the elf with only a hint of dubiousness. "Are you certain? I would not want-"

"He said it was fine." Aerie cut in, her tone resolute... though a hint of a smile could be visible on the Avariel's face in the low lighting. "I'm a healer too, Jaheira... and Greywulf's arm is bandaged well enough. Don't bother."

There was silence for a few moments between the two of them. "Of course not. Let's get moving then."

The left the docks as quietly as they had entered, slipping back into the darkness of the alleys of Athkatla. The slums were not far, and they had reached Gaelan Bayle's house within the hour. Attached to the door was a note, _G and company,_ c_ome on in. -GB._

They entered to find Gaelan sitting in the same chair he had been in the last time they had come, a smile on his face as the five filed in.

"Why look who it is!" he exclaimed. "The merry band of adventurers, come to see ol' Gaelan again. I see you've added a pretty young lass as well; Aerie is it? A right pleasure to be meeting you. Gaelan Bayle, at your service."

"How do you know me?" Aerie asked, the thief across from her grinning as he stood up.

"It's my job, ye might say, to keep track of the comings and goings of your little group. Not to worry though, we have your best intentions in mind."

"I'm sure." Greywulf remarked dryly. "Now, what is it you called us here for?"

"Right to the point, eh? Coo! No messing around here. To put it bluntly, word gets around pretty quick; we know about little encounter with the other guild... and their offer to enlist you as members. Now, you've got the freedom to do whatever you wish to be sure, but taking their offer would be… unwise, as it were."

"Is that a threat?" Jaheira asked stonily.

"Nobody threatens Minsc and Boo, not without a butt kicking for goodness!" Minsc bellowed, raising his axes.

"Now just settle down." Gaelan said, trying to defuse the situation. "I'm just saying that I'm sure you have suspicions of your own about the other guild, and well, I doubt you'd find their sort appealing. As for their counteroffer of 15000 gold, we're prepared to drop our price to that same sum as well. We want to keep relations between our two parties as smooth and friendly as possible."

"So, are we now the target of some human bidding war?" Yoshimo raised one eyebrow. "Because if that is the case, you should know that I am worth at least 10000 by myself."

"Hah! Always the kidder, Yoshimo. Still, that is our price. Think it over; if need be, go to the meeting they have invited you to. I'm sure when all is said and done, you'll make the right choice."

"We will think on this." Greywulf said, motioning the others to leave.

Just before they had exited, Gaelan called out, "Oh, and Yoshimo!"

"Yes?"

"A'fore I forget, the Bloodscalp has a message for you. Now I don't have a problem with you myself, but he don't take kindly to independent operators in Athkatla. If you want to avoid trouble for you and your new kin here, I highly suggest you go and see him."

Yoshimo's eyes widened slightly at this, his face was a tad bit paler as he replied, "Of course… I will take it into consideration."

They left and headed for the Copper Coronet, Aerie turning to a still shaken Yoshimo. "Who was Gaelan talking about? Bloodscalp? Why would you be afraid of him?"

"If you knew Renal Bloodscalp as I did... you might understand something of my situation." Yoshimo exhaled. "He is the closest thing to a lieutenant of the Shadow Thieves in this area... by no means the leader, but if a second in command was to be nominated, he would be close. Apparently some of the deeds I performed around here before meeting all of you have... er, garnered his attention."

"Will he try to kill you if you don't meet him?" Greywulf asked, concern on his face. "We can make a detour tomorrow if necessary."

"I don't think I'm in any real danger while traveling with you, but he could get testy if I don't show." the bounty hunter admitted. "Things could get… messy. But it is your decision; Yoshimo will follow."

"Your compassion for others is admirable, but we can't do everything we come across." Jaheira said, a hint of warning in her tone.

"Trust me, I know." Greywulf said with a sigh, indicating he had gotten the message. "But we still have to take care of what we've agreed to. The best thing right now souds like a good night's sleep at the Coronet. Hendak will be pleased to see us no doubt. We'll decide how to sort this out in the morning. We may have to split up to get all this done properly."

_Xzar and the Harpers, Renal Bloodscalp, the guild meeting, the Temple of Helm, Firkraag if we decide to risk it... what in the world have I gotten us into? _his thoughts were still a jumble when they finally reached the Coronet, the doors slamming shut behind them.

X X X X X X X

Jon Irenicus strode down the halls of Spellhold, looking around in satisfaction at the new order he had brought to the asylum. The cells, once holding merely mages and political prisoners, now held dozens of others, Shadow Thieves and a few surviving Cowled Wizards. As he walked the paths, stepping over the bodies of dead Wizards, the ones he had slain days ago yet left to rot, he came to the last cell on a row, Imoen lying inside. He studied her for a moment, his mind calculating and spinning on how to best break her for the process to come... He could decide later. He was a patient man if nothing else... and besides, if his source was true, Greywulf was nowhere near reaching him yet.

He kept moving and reached the room that had once been the primary torture and interrogation chamber, still mostly the same but slightly converted for his own needs. A dozen orcs around him continued their work, lifting and moving different containers and large magical equipment around, setting up the apparatus he had once had in his dungeon in Waukeen's Promenade. He had never used it there... he had not been given the chance to. Here, however... with any luck, it would see use in a matter of days. Breaking him from his grim yet satisfying thoughts, the sound of a shattering tube echoed in his ears, the wizard turning to see an orc frozen above the remains of the glass he had dropped, all the orcs around muttering nervously as they backed away from the unlucky beast. The orc looked up at Irenicus in fear, just in time to see the disgusted wizard rain lightning upon him, leaving only a charred skeleton.

"You should not kill the work force so quickly." a voice hissed to Irenicus from the shadows behind him, Irenicus not moving a muscle at the interruption. One of the few emotions he could still feel was a bit of pride on not allowing her to make him flinch when she did that. "You know how long it takes to completely dominate a strong, healthy being."

"Orcs are expendable, mere fodder for our purposes." he intoned, the other orcs already moving quickly to achieve their purposes for fear of meeting the same fate as the other orc. "I doubt it would take one of your skill to capture twice the number here in a matter of days."

"Perhaps, but I still hate to see hard work go to waste."

"You're just excited, that's all." Irenicus said with a sneer... not because he was unhappy, but it was just one of the few expressions he could still manage. "Don't worry, Imoen will be ready soon, and the orcs have almost completed the machine. You will have what you desire."

"I had better." the dark figure bit out... before her tone went curious. "You have not paid much attention to her so far, I fail to see how she will be ready soon at this rate."

"Greywulf is... growing stronger. More resistant to my influences... I doubt I can corrupt him from afar as I had hoped." Irenicus admitted. "Perhaps one more attempt tonight and then I shall begin work upon Imoen."

"Why once more, if you know it will fail?"

"Because, dear sister..." Irenicus said darkly, "Tonight will be something... special."

X X X X X X X

A flash of darkness, erupting through his sleep and tearing him from any rest, Greywulf's eyes opened with a start... his body already standing, quarterstaff in hand. A dark room of shadows surrounded, supported by pillars of pure obsidian and enclosed by walls of giant stone, runes of ancient tongues that were unreadable carved into the walls and pillars. Before him sat Irenicus upon a chair of stone, though his figure was indistinct, a blurry vision that was shadowy and moving, unable to be focused upon.

Greywulf took two steps forward and snarled as he brought his weapon down upon the shade, once again passing right through it. The figure of Irenicus raised one eyebrow, "Really, Greywulf... one would think you would have learned by now that your attempts at harming me are futile."

"I remember, but it just makes me feel better." Greywulf spat.

Irenicus stood up and asked, "Why? Why do you continue to fight against what you are, what you were born to be? The power of your blood resonates within you, begging to be unleashed against your foes. You are powerful, true. But there are so many others, creatures beyond your comprehension which can easily best you. These creatures are insignificant compared to your might, but you would fall to them because of a misguided sense of morality? Let your friends and companions die as well?"

"Find a new tune, Irenicus." Greywulf shook his head. "I'm through listening to your lies. Words and nothing more."

"Words." Irenicus shrugged. "Perhaps it is time I _show_ you the truth, then. Look upon the face of your friend, Imoen. She has been under quite a toll since her capture, yet you, you who claim the right and moral path... see what you have failed to save her from."

As he spoke, a window of light shined through, revealing the cell Imoen was in. Images flashed across his vision... Greywulf's eyes opened wide in horror as the visions continued, the despair and sickness he felt rising in his stomach gradually turning to unbridled fury and rage."Imoen!" he screamed, tears flowing down his face. "Liar! I swear I'll kill you!"

Greywulf leapt at Irenicus in a blind rage, passing right through him. Irenicus turned to face him as he picked himself up, shaking his head. "Why would I lie when the truth is just that much more painful? I had no idea joints could bend that way..."

The sorcerer stood before Irenicus, shaking in fury. "Enough of this! Get out of my head... get out now!!"

"Do you truly think you can evict me by force?" he sneered. "Too weak... too weak to force me away, too weak to save her... and if I can affect you in this way, what makes you believe I cannot touch your companions as well?"

The quarterstaff swung out once again... but this time... this time the sound of it cracking against flesh and bone echoed as Irenicus tumbled back, completely taken by surprise as the weapon struck him, his form solid now. He rolled away, struggling to one knee. "Impossible! Unless... ha. Congratulations, Greywulf. You have taken the first step in releasing the power of your blood."

Greywulf barely heard the wizard; all he could see was Imoen's pain, her suffering... he swung down again, striking Irenicus a second time-

Irenicus flew back, skidding across the cold floor of the Spellhold asylum, hitting the wall to stop his motion. He grunted once, shaking his head as he looked down at his chest, two long bruises and welts present from where he had been struck. He had not truly thought it possible, that Greywulf would allow himself to use the taint in such a manner, enough so to break the contact he had maintained. It was almost enough to give him pause, to maybe continue his attempts at corruption... but no. Imoen was here and he had already taken the first step in breaking her will... as Greywulf had seen. The sorcerer would no more be troubled by Irenicus in dreams of the wizards' making, but knowing just how far the concern he had for his friends could push him... Irenicus allowed himself a tight smile as he climbed to his feet, preparing to continue Imoen's conditioning.

X X X X X X X

The sorcerer flew from room to room, checking each one of his companions in a frantic blur, ensuring that they were not each one enduring some torture or manifestation of Irenicus... Yoshimo and Minsc were fine, Aerie was asleep... Jaheira's bed was empty. He gripped his staff tightly as he quickly descended to the main bar, his heart thudding in a panic as he whirled around, looking for his companion-

"Greywulf? What are you-"

He spun over to Jaheira, sitting at the bar with a frown creasing her brow. "Jaheira! Are you all right?!"

"Of course I'm all right, what is-"

"Did you have any dreams? Any at all?"

"Greywulf, calm down!" Jaheira recoiled, grabbing him by the shoulders as she looked into his frantic gaze. "What is the matter with you! Sit!"

Greywulf slowly acquiesced, his chest still rising and falling heavily. "Now, what are you doing up like this? You will wake the whole inn with your shouts."

He shook his head lightly, trying to clear his thoughts. "Irenicus... another dream. He came to me and..."

"And tried to corrupt you again, yes?" she finished, placing one hand on his back as she tried to calm him. "What happened this time? What changed, made you so afraid?"

He could not face her directly to begin with, he tried... finally he turned, looking into her eyes. "I forced him out, Jaheira. I got rid of him. With the taint."

"You did- you used it?" she said cautiously.

"I did... and he had to leave. I got rid of him just like that." he said, his voice slowly deepening as he spoke. "He couldn't touch me, Jaheira... nobody could have. And if I use it now, just for a while... we can get to Imoen. No more dealing with the Shadow Thieves, no more waiting, we can save her! Now, if we choose to!"

"Calm down... this power you're talking about, you remember what it did to Sarevok, what it drove him to!" she warned, her eyes taking a steely gaze.

"But I'm not him!" he growled, pushing her hands away. "I'm not Sarevok!! I could avenge Dynaheir and Khalid without risk to you or anyone else!! Irenicus would be dust under me, no force could oppose me-"

"Except your friends." Jaheira interrupted coldly.

"What?"

"Greywulf, you have fought long and hard against your father's taint... and I would take no pleasure in this. But if you accept the power that your taint offers, I swear I will do everything in my power to bring you down. Imoen would do the same."

"You don't know that! You weren't there!! You didn't see..."

Greywulf trailed off, his rage slowly giving way to a deep sorrow, his eyes squeezed shut as he bent over, trembling. "Greywulf... what happened? Why this change; what did you see?"

"I… I saw Imoen, in my dream." he managed, his voice cracking as he spoke. "She was beaten within an inch of death... I can still see the blood on his hands…"

"We all are concerned about Imoen, Greywulf." Jaheira said, swallowing the sickening feeling his words brought to her. "But this concern for life, this compassion you have for others... it is what separates you from Irenicus. If you take this power... you may gain Imoen's life, but at the cost of your own soul. You would become the very thing you… we fight."

They sat together in silence for a few minutes, neither one of them moving or speaking. Finally his head craned up, red-eyed and weary, and he nodded. "You're right... forgive me. I lost sight-"

"You are mortal, that's all." she shook her head. "Now try and get some rest; we have much to do tomorrow."

She watched him as he stalked up the stairs back towards his room, leaving her alone at the bar once again. As soon as he was out of sight, she exhaled wearily, shivering once. It was a haunting reminder of just how close he was to faltering... how thin a line he walked. His compassion was his greatest strength and at the same time his greatest weakness. The worst part was... Irenicus knew it.

She finished the cup of water she had been nursing, trying to calm her thoughts and bring herself back to a calm balance... though that was harder and harder to achieve these days. Khalid's memory still weighed heavily... strange that Greywulf should ask whether she had dreamed... she had indeed, a dream of Khalid once more. This time though... it had not been so bad. Khalid had been walking across from her, visible yet unreachable, but he had been smiling. Content, almost... as she and Greywulf, just the two of them, walked together in silence.

Aerie did not help matters any either... she had not missed that smug little grin she had tossed her way that night. As if she really cared about who bandaged a wounded teammate, so long as it was done well. She made a mental note to check Greywulf's wound herself before they headed out tomorrow, standing up as she glanced where Greywulf had just left. He had been such a comfort to her since Khalid's death... by Silvanus, she'd be damned if he fell to the taint while she was with him.

X X X X X X X

Greywulf sat in his room for an hour, silence permeating everything as time slowly passed, the struggle within him raging as it finally reached a flash point... he stood up and said aloud, "No. I will not take the easy road. There is a better way and I will find it. Hear me, Irenicus... you have failed."

An almost audible voice echoed in his head, _"We shall see, Bhaalspawn. We shall see."_


	20. Part 1: Old Friends And New Enemies

_Author's Note: Hey, since it's that day on which I'm typing this(but probably not posting, having trouble with the document manager at my home computer), Happy Thanksgiving to everyone out there who's been kind enough to read and especially review! My very best to all of you; God bless._

Minsc blinked his eyes twice, sitting straight up from the bed on which he had slept the night through. He glanced down towards the end of the bed where his feet hung off, his impressive height just a bit much for the beds provided them. Still, he had been comfortable enough before falling asleep, not taking more than a few moments to drift off. Strangely, most of the time his roommates complained of noises that kept them awake. He had never heard them though; once or twice he had volunteered to stay up and make certain it was no monster or villain, but sure enough, everything was quiet.

He stifled a yawn as he climbed to his feet, stretching his neck as he shuffled over to his armor and weaponry, noting that Yoshimo was apparently already up and downstairs. He shrugged as he pulled on the splint mail he was accustomed to wearing, his mind wandering over to how his new witch was faring. He grinned once as he thought of it, only to be interrupted as a squeak echoed from the table he stood beside, Boo resting comfortably there.

"Oh, good morning Boo. Did you sleep well?" Minsc asked, eyeing the hamster.

"Me too. Hmm? I was just thinking about Aerie, actually. She is quite a good witch, yes? Thanks to her, we shall still be able to complete our dajemma! After we avenge Dynaheir, of course."

"What?" Minsc nodded as he tightened the straps that held his axes to his back, listening as Boo made a few more noises. "Yes, Aerie is pretty. Why?"

Boo snuffled over into Minsc's palm as the ranger snugged the Sword of Chaos tighter to his side, placing Boo into the belt pouch where he could stick his head out and watch their battles. "Yes, I'm sure Greywulf has noticed she is pretty. Again, Boo, I am not so sure I understand your meaning... but then again, your wisdom can be overwhelming at times."

The hamster tossed out another squeak, an almost exasperated sounding one, really. "Ohhh..." Minsc grinned at the little rodent. "You are right, Boo. As her guardian, we should make certain she chooses wisely. I agree, he would be a fine choice for Aerie... though a warrior would be better. Preferably one with his own hamster or ice weasel."

Another series of squeaks as Minsc strode towards the door downstairs, Minsc frowning as he left. "What, Boo? Her? And our wizard friend Greywulf? Greywulf and Ja- no, I think you must have eaten too many berries last night before bed..."

X X X X X X X

"So, what is it to be?" Yoshimo asked, the five companions seated around the bar as they talked over their plans for the days ahead. "Are we to stay together and do what we can as fast as we can, or do we split up and cover more ground?"

"There is too much that must be done and not enough time. As much as I dislike the idea, we must split up, at least for the moment." Greywulf said after a long period of consideration. "However... I do wish to finish this business with Xzar and Montaron together, and if at all possible I think we should go to the Graveyard district tonight and hear what this other guild is offering. We would be foolish not to at least check it out."

"And after that?" Aerie asked, fidgeting nervously.

"We'll break into two groups. One pair will go with Yoshimo and find out what Renal Bloodscalp wants; the other will head to the Temple district and take care of the problems there. As far as who goes with who-"

"Minsc will not leave Aerie." the ranger said firmly. "We go together."

"I would be more than happy to travel with Jaheira, if the lady-" Yoshimo began.

"I will travel with Greywulf." Jaheira cut off the thief with a glare that brooked no argument. "Is that acceptable, Yoshimo?"

"Er... yes, of course. Aerie, Minsc? I assume you two will travel with me, then?" Yoshimo coughed, then turned to the ranger and elf with a grin.

"If this is all okay with Greywulf, I guess." Aerie said, glancing at him.

"Sounds fine to me." Greywulf nodded. "Jaheira and I will go to the Temple of Helm together; if what Oisig said was true we'll have some backup so we won't be by ourselves. Once we're done with our quests, we'll meet back up at the Copper Coronet in say... a week's time. Also, if everyone could give me a personal item; nothing big, but something that contains a trace of your essence, I might be able to tune a clairvoyance spell to each of you specifically. Just a failsafe in case of trouble."

"That will have to do, I suppose." conceded Jaheira.

Each gave Greywulf something small; a lock of hair from Aerie, a small ornate dagger from Yoshimo, a druidic pendant from Jaheira, and a medallion signifying Minsc's status as a ranger.

They wasted no time in heading back to the Harper Hold, only stopping briefly to talk to Hendak, informing him of their future plans. Even as they headed out the door of the inn, Aerie watched Greywulf with a bit of disappointment... and worry, in her heart. It wasn't that she didn't trust Minsc and Yoshimo to watch out for her... she just felt better around Greywulf. He was always so understanding and friendly with her... it was almost like he could make her forget the absence of her wings, something that had plagued her ever since the incident, even with Quayle around she had been haunted by it... and yet he somehow made her forget.

Not like Jaheira... she tried not to think about the druid, but she could feel her face flushing with irritation. She hadn't even bothered to ask who Greywulf thought should travel with who, she just automatically paired herself with him... that and she had not trusted Aerie's skills enough to leave his arm alone. She had gone to him to ask if she could check the wrapping this morning... only to find Jaheira had already done so. Was she really asking for all that much, just a little respect and faith in her skills... and maybe a little time alone with Greywulf?

"Are you okay, Aerie?"

Minsc's concerned voice caught her unawares; she hurriedly looked up at him, managing a quick smile. "Oh... of course I am. Just fine, Minsc."

"Do not worry, Aerie. For it is not just Minsc, Aerie and Yoshimo who go together... we have Boo as well."

His good-natured smile brought a bit of relief to her mind as they continued on their way, the Docks reached without incident. As Jaheira had suspected, Rylock was once more outside, looking nonchalant even as he guarded the building. They approached him, Greywulf stepping forward with a smile. "Greetings. I believe we have met."

Rylock looked at Greywulf questioningly, but his eyes soon lit up, "Oh yes... the ones who brought Renfeld back safely. Thanks once again... here is the afore mentioned reward."

He handed Greywulf a small sack of gold, the sorcerer nodding gratefully as Minsc tucked it away. "Actually, we were hoping we might come in and see how the fellow is faring. Would you mind if we take a peek inside?"

Rylock stiffened slightly, his eyes abruptly furtive as he looked them all over. "Ah... sorry. I'm afraid he's still quite ill and can't see anybody. It's rather a private building; unless you've been specifically invited-"

Jaheira cut him off easily, "Come now, are these games really necessary? I am one of your kin after all, a Harper through and through."

Rylock quickly shushed her, "Jaheira! Keep it down; we can't have the whole city knowing of our presence here! Yes, we knew you as a Harper, but your friends are not."

"Is my word not enough to vouch for them?" Jaheira frowned. "We just need to take a look inside, that's all."

"I'm afraid not. Even if I desired to, I do not have the authority to allow any of you-"

"But I do." the sound of the door behind him opening was heard, an older man with a gray mustache and beard stepping out, garbed in loose fitting robes, though they undoubtedly concealed some form of protection and armor underneath. "Jaheira... it's been a while."

"Berinvar." she nodded in his direction. "I was not aware you had been transferred to the Amnish section of our organization."

"A recent move." he shrugged. "Though I'm not surprised you were unaware; it has been months since you last reported in to a Hold. Far too long, really."

"You know that my duties as a Harper-" she countered, though Berinvar waved her off. "Despite what you may think, your duties as a Harper are quite important, as is keeping us informed. Still, perhaps we can solve this disagreement to both our benefit. We will allow Jaheira entrance to complete a long-overdue report while the rest of you perform a small task for us. When you have completed it, you may join Jaheira inside. That is all I offer."

Jaheira glanced back at the others, then said warily. "Fine... be careful, all of you."

She walked in with Berinvar even as Rylock turned back to the four remaining party members, explaining the details of their latest task.

X X X X X X X

"Berinvar, you know I respect you... I have long held you in high regard, even when our ideas did not mesh. Why do you insist on patronizing me like this?" Jaheira said, the exasperation in her voice unchecked.

"It's not patronizing, Jaheira... it's just a simple report." Berinvar sighed as the two of them walked through the surprisingly ornate and elaborate hall that encompassed much of the first story of the Harper Hold. "You've done it dozens of times, why was this particular one so difficult?"

"Because I know that you of all people, loathe the bureaucracy and paperwork that comes with the job." she countered deftly. "And yet you insisted on going through each step of my travels outside the last check-in like some bean-counting clerk or lawyer."

The older man shook his head even as he tried to avoid her accusatory stare. "Look Jaheira... admittedly, you have been gone for a long time, an in-depth report was not unwarranted by any stretch of the imagination... but you're right. I trust you, you know this. The regional leader of this branch is very... methodical. Everything is done step by step, and as soon as we got news you were in this area, we were ordered to gather all the information you had to report as soon as you came here."

"Who is the leader here? Why has he not come to brief me himself if he is so obsessed with discovering all the details I have to offer?" she frowned.

He did not answer immediately, almost as though he feared to speak the name around her. Finally, he turned to her and said, "Galvarey... he's been nominated as the regional leader. Now Jaheira, I know you-"

"You're kidding." she growled. "Galvarey?! That fool who... of course. Naturally, why else would this building be so ornate, so flashy when secrecy is the usual word. Only he would be so idiotic as to waste money and time on sprucing up a building which should be ready for dis-assembly in a matter of hours!"

"He's done good work, Jaheira... as much as you may dislike him and his methods, he's proven himself to the Council." he lectured. "They gave him this position, and I might remind you, the authority that goes with it."

"I will respect his authority if I see him, and at no other time." she growled. "He is no Herald at least. I can only thank Silvanus he is not here now so I do not have to look upon his face."

"Jaheira... never mind. I see you have lost none of the fire you possessed when last we talked." he said, managing a smile on his craggy features. "It truly has been a pleasure to see you again though. I... I was sorry to hear about Khalid. He was a good man."

"Thank you." Jaheira said quietly, glancing back down the hall to where the entrance was. "So... what manner of task did you sic my companions upon? Nothing too dangerous I hope."

"Not at all." he shrugged. "There was a laboratory of magic that needed to be destroyed; the man who runs it is creating foul beasts to sell in Athkatla's black market. They should not be overlong. You will be able to continue your search for the Zhentarim's companion soon enough."

Jaheira's eyes flashed as she whirled to face him. "How did you-"

"It's our business to know these things." he said, his voice taking on a hard tone. "Did you think we would not spy your conversation with the mad wizard? It was fairly obvious to discern your true purpose in coming here."

"Then why tell me this?" she asked cautiously. "What do you want from us if not to stop our release of Montaron?"

"We know why you're doing this... you need the money for your rescue attempt." Berinvar's expression softened. "I know you're loyal to your friends, Jaheira... you wouldn't be doing this if you weren't. And I respect it. Still, I can't just hand the halfling over to you."

"Then what do you intend on doing?" she asked.

He sighed, waited for a few seconds... then glanced toward the stairs. "He's up there. You'll have to get past the guardians... I can't make them let you pass, it'd be too obvious a sign of my involvement."

"Do they not relent for members of the Harp?"

"These ones have been bound... bound to yield to these amulets." he showed her a rather sparkly chain of gold and silver that was tucked under his robe. "Another idea implemented by Galvarey... I always preferred the Harper Pins, myself."

"Indeed. For those lucky enough to receive one." she remarked. "So you want deniability, then. If it will get us Montaron, so be it."

"Good. Now all that's left is the return of your friends and your battle against the guardians." Berinvar said. "It won't be an easy fight up there, you know."

"Oh, I know." she nodded, a hint of a smile on her face. "Easy's not what we do."

X X X X X X X

"Alayna? Who are these interlopers?" the mage stood there, bent over a table loaded with different tools and spell components as he stared at the four adventurers who had just entered their laboratory.

"I do not know, Brennen... perhaps we should find out by means of torture. I think the Master would approve." a second female mage stood across from her counterpart, also staring at them.

"This won't end well." Greywulf muttered as the scene before them took an ugly turn. They had found the laboratory Rylock had described easily enough, Yoshimo picking the lock without problem. Still, the long rows of half completed golems and orc like creatures that staggered about the room, snarling and screeching at random were a disturbing sight. One of the mages hit something near the wall, a lever or switch of sorts... and with a roar of magic, all of the golems and creatures attacked. Minsc stepped into a flesh golem's charge, Frostreaver slashing through one arm while Stonefire found the golem's head. It fell, leaving Minsc to keep moving inexorably toward the mages at the far end of the room who were already beginning their own spells.

What looked like a half-orc, half kobold leapt at Yoshimo with a howl, the thief recoiling in horror as he pulled his katanas from his back, cutting the beast down before it could make a second attack. A lightning bolt crackled through the room provided by Aerie, sending one iron golem missing its arms, down to its knees, sizzling with the magic it had been hit by. Minsc slid over quickly to bring both axes down upon its neck, ending the threat permanently. A spell of holding struck Minsc just as he looked up, the ranger frozen in time as the second mage ignited her spell.

The sunfire spell swept through the room and drove Yoshimo back even as Minsc took the brunt of it, unable to move. Aerie hurriedly shouted words to a water cantrip, dousing the flames that threatened Minsc while Greywulf took a more offensive role, letting a Fireball spell go that devastated the horde of orcish guards approaching. One mage's attention turned to Greywulf, his lips moving with the power of lightning... before he broke off, falling with an arrow buried in his chest. Yoshimo redrew an arrow quickly, hurriedly turning to hit the second mage- too late. A Stoneskin activated, deflecting the arrow. A blaze of magic missiles sent Yoshimo flying, groaning as he tried to get back to his feet. The mage turned to the next threat, Aerie hurriedly trying to dispel the power holding Minsc still. Their spells activated at nearly the same time, Minsc released just as Aerie met the same fate he had escaped. He growled as he remained by her body, unwilling to leave her unprotected despite the stone golem baring down on them. Greywulf watched the number of orcish beasts still standing guard by the mage... he reached out with his magic, touching the minds of the creatures. One quick mental twist of a Confusion spell was enough to send them into their basic instinctual mode. The creatures began slaughtering each other, two of them attacking the mage herself, dropping several of her Stoneskins before she could strike them down. Yoshimo, finally recovered from the blows he had taken, leapt at her with his katanas; one strike left her vulnerable while the other sent her to the ground.

Even as her dying cry faded away, the remaining constructs in the room slowly faltered, the golems shutting down. All other threats had been dispatched, as Greywulf moved to dispel Aerie's imprisonment too. "Everybody all right?" Greywulf glanced at the others, ensuring nobody was missing a limb or such.

"A bit worse for wear," coughed Yoshimo, still sore from the hits he had taken on the chest, "But nothing crippling. We should get moving... no sense in staying longer than necessary."

"The mage mentioned a Master." Minsc noted. "Perhaps he will return here?"

"I don't know... and to be honest, I really don't care at the moment." Greywulf sighed. "The Harpers here in Athkatla can deal with the rest of this situation. Let's just get back to the Hold and make sure Jaheira's okay."

The rest of the group agreed; after a quick but thorough search, revealing naught but a few coins and a magical dagger that Yoshimo pocketed, they left and headed back to the Harper Hold with all haste. Rylock nodded expectantly at their arrival; opening the door for them with a nod. "As we promised, the wards have been momentarily lifted and the building is now yours to inspect. You have free reign to look about, but I warn you now, stay on the bottom floor! If you go up the stairs, we will not be responsible for what may happen. Heed my warnings."

The main hall was large, filled with ornate furniture, grand lighting and splendor far beyond anything expected from the outside. The walls were adorned with leaf patterns lined with brass candlesticks and stands. The columns supporting the roof were similarly designed and upon each wall was a large circular symbol of a crescent moon and a harp. At the end of the hall were two staircases that circled around into each other and went up into another floor. In between the two staircases was a large statue of the goddess Mystra. To the side were large separate rooms, each guarded by a Harper.

Still, the sight of Jaheira awaiting them by the base of the stairs was more than welcome, the group quickly moving to rejoin her. "It's good to see the Harpers' task did not delay you too much." she nodded to them as they reached her. "I have done some questioning and searching; Montaron should be upstairs."

"Right... the place Rylock warned us not to go to." Yoshimo noted dryly. "Will the Harpers simply allow us to walk out with him?"

"Officially no. Unofficially... perhaps." Jaheira glanced across the hall at Berinvar, who was busy talking with another young member. "There will be guards, Spectral Harpists if this is anything like most Holds. They will not prove an easy fight... but I think if we can survive we will be allowed to leave with Montaron."

"Well then." Greywulf took one step up the staircase. "Let's not keep our 'old friend' waiting, hmm?"

The five, led by Jaheira, made their way up the stairs, drawing glances from the Harpers in the room though no one said anything. They found the door unlocked, as though bidding them enter. It seemed a large library of sorts inside; bookshelves lined every wall, multiple tomes stacked upon the floor. To the west a large door sat open, revealing an arboreium, different plants and even a large cage filled with flora and the sounds of a bird chirping coming from it. Moving quietly through the room, Greywulf whispered, "I don't see anything. Perhaps the guardians have chosen to let us pass?"

"Perhaps," Jaheira responded with caution, "But-"

A gust of wind blew throughout the room, almost knocking the five companions to the ground. The door behind them shut; a mist floated up from the floor before them, forming four ghostly figures. All were cloaked shades of men, wielding ghostly blades as their glowing yellow eyes locked on the interlopers.

_"You are not permitted here. None but the chosen are allowed."_

"I am a Harper." Jaheira said firmly. "Will you not relent? These others are under my watch and will not be harmed."

_"You may be a Harper, but you do not bear the symbol we have been bound to yield to. We must defend this place."_

With that the Spectral Harpists launched forward, driving against the five against them. Their weapons, however ghostly, rang fierce against the weapons that the group carried and they refused to hold back despite Jaheira's presence. Minsc had both of his axes drawn and fighting, blocking with one while trying to counter with the other, but the speed with which the specter moved kept him on the defensive. Jaheira encountered the same problem, her spear work being parried and neutralized by the opponent she faced. Greywulf's magics had little or no effect, the specters absorbing the magic with no ill effects. Without an effective use of his spells magic, Greywulf was quickly forced into fighting with his quarterstaff, barely managing to block the attacks thrown his way. Aerie and Yoshimo battled together against one of the specters, but neither could manage to hit the creature they faced.

Jaheira swore as the sword her opponent held cut across her left shoulder, the wound instantly icy with the touch of the undead guardians. Undead... Jaheira whirled to Aerie even as she tried to avoid another attack, "Aerie! You are a cleric; use your power to turn these undead!!"

Aerie's eyes widened, but she quickly disengaged from her battle, beginning her incantations and chants. The four undead spirits were not idle or stupid; they moved to oppose her without hesitation...all four swords came down upon a shimmering globe of energy, summoned by the half-elven sorcerer behind them. Greywulf's palm was outstretched towards her, a thin blue beam wavering and warping from his hand that created and reinforced the globe of protection Aerie resided under. Two specters turned to attack Greywulf while the other two remained by Aerie, doing their best to overtax Greywulf's will as they struck the sphere repeatedly. Minsc and Jaheira moved to intercept the two moving to strike Greywulf while Yoshimo did his best to remove one of the spirits hitting the globe.

Seconds ticked by while Greywulf remained protected by his two stalwart friends; the hope that Aerie's work might turn the battle giving them some reserves of strength. Yoshimo had succeeded in drawing one of the spirits into fighting him, but still... there was no visible change in the Spectral Harpists' and Greywulf's will was fading quickly. Beads of sweat ran down his forehead as he gritted his teeth, trying with all his might to maintain Aerie's protection. The strain he felt grew more intense with each blow... time seemed to stop as one final strike rippled over the shield, Greywulf feeling the pressure overwhelm him... the globe shattered, sending blue shards of magic flying outward while Greywulf flew across the room into a bookshelf, the structure collapsing upon him as he lay there unconscious.

Minsc could be heard shouting in alarm as the Spectral Harpist swung out at the newly vulnerable Aerie... a white, misty light surged up around Aerie, driving her attacker backward. Her eyes opened, white beams of light blazing from them to strike each specter.

The divine power was not quite enough to banish them completely... but it came pretty close. The spirit nearest Aerie stumbled backwards, trying to put as much distance as possible between itself and the cleric, never seeing the ferocious swing Minsc laid into it's neck from behind. Even injured, Jaheira had no trouble pushing past her opponent's defense to let her spear find a mark, nor did Yoshimo with his twin katanas. The last of the specters had no chance against the combined might of their last attacks, giving a low groan as he left the plane of existence. The abrupt halt to the battle left a quiet in the room, the only sound that of their heavy breathing. A moan from the toppled bookshelf to the side brought the others rushing over, quickly unpiling the books and debris that covered Greywulf. Quickly turning him over, Jaheira did not hesitate but started her spells of healing, Greywulf slowly opening his eyes with a flutter.

"Greywulf, are you all right?" Minsc asked, helping Greywulf to a seated position against the wall, supporting him as he clutched his head in pain.

"Other than a splitting headache... peachy." he groaned. "Good job Aerie... just a little faster next time, please."

"Next time have some initiative of your own, girl." Jaheira frowned, though her irritation could probably be more attributed to worry for Greywulf's safety rather than actual anger at Aerie. "I will not be around to tell you what to do when we split up."

Aerie gave Jaheira a look of anger mixed with irritation, though her gaze quickly returned to Greywulf in concern. "Will you be all right?"

"I should be fine in a few minutes... you guys try and find Montaron, I think I'll sit here for a bit. Really, I'd just be happy to find him and get out of here."

The others reluctantly followed his directions and went about searching, Greywulf trying to suppress the shudders of soreness and pain that ran through his mind and body. He had been lucky, he supposed; foolish of him to stretch his will that far when there was such a high risk. Had the last blow been more powerful it could have shattered his psyche completely... the migraine he felt now was actually the least that could have happened.

"Um... Greywulf?"

He looked up from his seated position to see Aerie standing before him, her face full of concern. "Aerie... did you find something?"

"I... well, no. I just wanted to make sure you were okay, that's all." she explained. "I've never seen a containment spell like that shatter before... I'm sorry I took so long to finish my magic. I should have been faster-"

"No... don't blame yourself." he waved her apology off with a weak smile. "We went in without enough preparation and planning and I took a hit for it. I should be back to full strength with a good night's rest."

"I'm glad... I just wanted to be sure; you are the leader after all; I guess I felt responsible for taking so long- I...I'm sorry, I must seem like an inexperienced little worrywart to you." Aerie said with a touch of embarrassment, already beginning to move away to begin searching again.

Greywulf reached out and took her wrist to stop her as he used the wall to push himself up with a shake of the head. "Far from it, Aerie. You show compassion and concern for your friends; even though you've only known us for one week, you already treat us like your family, putting our safety and concerns on par with your own. I know very few people who have shown as much care and strength as you have in this short time. Aside from all that, your ability to turn those undead is what won the battle for us. Do not underestimate yourself, Aerie."

"I- thank you, Greywulf... I'm not sure how much of what you said is really true about me, but your words are kind." she gazed up at him, the divine magic she had summoned still barely present in her eyes.

He chuckled slightly at the sight, then cocked his head as the white in her pupils faded completely. "Your eyes are blue... I hadn't noticed before. They're nice... they seem to fit, somehow."

Aerie blushed, bowing her head at Greywulf's comment... she opened her mouth to respond- "Yoshimo, Jaheira, Aerie... Boo has found something!"

Aerie and Greywulf both looked over to where Minsc's cry had came from, Greywulf glancing back down at Aerie. "We'd better go see what Minsc has found. Come on."

She managed a nod as they both started over towards Minsc... though Aerie could feel her heart beating just a little faster than before.


	21. Part 1: Under Pain Of Death

An inward sigh sent a tremor through Aerie's body; there were times it felt like the gods were raising her up, providing for the loss of her wings... just before she was sent tumbling back down to earth. She glanced over at Greywulf as the two of them headed over to where Minsc had called them, possibly the location of the halfling thief they had been searching for. It was what they had come up there for... but right when Greywulf had maybe, _possibly_ been expressing... something, to her, her new protector's voice had sounded through. She sighed inwardly again; it really hadn't been all that much he had said if she was being honest, just a simple comment on her eyes... but still, would it have been so terrible for Minsc to have found Montaron a half-minute later? Was she selfish for asking that?

No more time for introspection as the whole group reached the ranger, finding him looking up in the arboretum, his eyes following a brightly colored bird that flitted amongst the trees and foliage. It finally settled on a particularly large branch near the top, just out of Minsc's reach as it stared down at the five intruders below it.

"A pretty bird, but I see no trace of Montaron." Yoshimo noted, glancing about the arboretum.

"Minsc does not think the pretty bird is really a pretty bird at all." he mused, rubbing his chin as he stared at the chirping avian. "It eyes Boo with a most unfriendly glare... it reminds him of the way the evil halfling eyed us in Nashkel."

Greywulf, still trying to fight through the nasty headache afflicting him, winced as he glared at the bird. "You think it's Montaron polymorphed into a bird?"

"It would certainly fit the Harpers' sense of justice." Jaheira noted, striding over to Greywulf with a frown, noting the obvious discomfort on his face. "Here... I have a few more healing spells left; you look as though you could use them."

Greywulf leaned against the wall behind him with gratitude as Jaheira began her chants, looking over at Aerie as the discomfort lessened slightly. "Aerie... a detection spell should be enough to decide if the bird is more than it appears. If you would..."

Aerie nodded her assent to Greywulf, then began her magics. The edges of her mouth tugged upward when it completed, nodding in satisfaction. "You were right, Minsc... it's no ordinary bird. I wonder if it can understand us..."

As if in response, the bird made a half-swoop at Aerie, chirping with an almost belligerent tone. Aerie yelped as she ducked to avoid the bird, Yoshimo's hands darting out quickly to grab the bird. "That was not nice." he tsked.

"No, but now I'm convinced it's Montaron." Greywulf snorted. "Look, if you can understand us, Xzar sent us to find you. We'll take you to him... but a little more cooperation would be appreciated. Translation: get in Minsc's pack and keep your beak shut while we leave."

The bird glared at Greywulf, but it did not take flight once again as Yoshimo released his grip, instead hopping over into the open pack Minsc held out, the very tip of it's beak protruding as Minsc covered the bird up again. Glancing at the others with a deep breath, Greywulf motioned toward the stairs. As the door opened and the five of them emerged downstairs once more, it was like a deathly silence had fallen over the room; almost everyone was staring at them, Greywulf quietly whispering for them to keep moving. Sure enough, nobody accosted them as they strode through the hall... though Berinvar met Jaheira's eye just before the door closed on them.

"I assume you found what you were looking for?" Rylock's voice brought them back to the outside world as they exited, the Harper guard eyeing them with one raised eyebrow.

"Yes... in a manner of speaking." Greywulf answered with a nod.

"Good. Then I trust you will have no further business with the Harpers for now. The wards have been raised again and you will be denied entrance; yes, even you Jaheira, unless you are summoned."

"Understood." Jaheira said, her voice tinged with irritation and a look of suspicion in her eyes as they left him behind, quickly closing in on the location they had originally met Xzar, easily out of sight of the Harper Hold.

"Something is wrong." Jaheira murmured as they walked. "That was too easy... even if they were 'willing' to release Montaron."

"Easy? You call that easy?" Greywulf answered, half-incredulously.

"You are not familiar with Harpers, Greywulf." she retorted. "The defenses should have been much stiffer. The ease of the task they required for you to gain entrance... and despite how much I want to believe Berinvar has nothing but sympathy for our plight, the Harpers would not release a Zhentarim prisoner so lightly."

"You think they wanted us to release Montaron?" Yoshimo frowned. "What could they possibly stand to gain?"

"We'll find out." Greywulf stiffened, his voice abruptly lowering as Xzar materialized before them, the dimension door he had conjured fading quickly. The bird flapped its wings noisily and flew from Minsc's pack into the Zhentarim's arms, still glaring and squawking angrily at the five adventurers.

"Hmm... I see you have delivered as promised." Xzar said, inspecting the bird in his hands. "I assume this is my Monty? Yes, it must be! Finally, some good news to brighten the day! Some fools broke into my lab and killed all my little pets and my two apprentices! How excruciatingly annoying!"

"Is that so?" Yoshimo coughed, his eyes furtively glancing back at the others.

"Yes indeed! You just can't trust people these days." he sighed, setting the bird down. "Before I give you the money or any information about Irenicus, I will make sure this is actually Montaron. He must have some interesting things to say."

Xzar's incantations sounded, magic swirling at his fingertips and lighting up the bird standing before him; the bird slowly changed shape, twisting and forming... an explosion of light went off to reveal a ruffled and angry looking halfling, still as gruff and unpleasant looking as the last time they had seen him. Sure enough, the thief Montaron was climbing to his feet before them, scowling in anger at all around him.

"Blasted sods with yer dirt-smellin packs, carryin' me around like some sort piece of yer luggage!" he spat, his hand immediately going to the short sword hanging on his belt. "I ought to gut you where you stand!"

"It's nice to see you too." Greywulf remarked dryly at the sputtering thief. "How we've missed traveling with you two."

"Oh, Monty!" Xzar cried, dropping to his knees with a grin as he embraced the thief, Montaron yelping in anger and surprise.

"Let go of me, you nutty wizard!" he shouted, pushing Xzar onto his back, the mage cackling madly as he did.

"As wonderful as this has been, we need to get going." Greywulf mentioned. "So if you'll give us what you promised..."

"Aww... can't you stay for dinner?" Xzar pouted, climbing to his feet. "Still, I suppose if you must. Here's your gold. Now for that information you so wonderfully earned-"

"Earned? Here's what you've earned, ye mad wizard!!"

Montaron's shout caught everyone by surprise as he drew his blade and leapt forward, plunging it into Xzar's back. The insane wizard gave out a cry of pain, shock and betrayal registering across his face as the life ebbed out of him, Montaron yanking out his sword with a grimace. "Good riddance, I says."

The sound of other weapons being unsheathed sounded as Minsc and Yoshimo both drew their respective blades and pointed them at the halfling standing over Xzar's body. "That's enough, halfling. What have you just done?!" Jaheira growled.

"I thought it was pretty obvious." he grunted, stuffing his sword back into his sheath, though the looks directed at him along with the weapons drew another snarl. "It's not like he didn' have it coming! What do ye care about him; killed the both of us last time we met, didn't you?"

"You're right about that; it'll be a second time if you don't tell us what's really going on!" Greywulf threatened. "Xzar had some information he was going to deliver until you so conveniently silenced him. Either tell us what he knew or why you killed him. I'll only ask this once."

"Am I supposed to be scared?" he sneered. "Cry me a river, ya pansy."

Without another word, Montaron darted out of the range of their blades, surprisingly quick and agile. Before Yoshimo or Aerie could even think of getting their ranged weapons out to intercept his flight, the halfling had slipped into the back-alleys and dregs of the Docks, out of sight in moments.

"Hold up, Minsc." Greywulf raised one hand as the ranger began to dart forward in pursuit. "Leave him be. We'll not find him around here; he's far too stealthy for that. Odds are he doesn't know anything about Irenicus either... whatever Xzar knew probably died with him."

"But why would he have killed his friend?" Aerie asked with a shudder of revulsion, looking down at the corpse as blood slowly pooled around it.

"They weren't exactly 'friends,' to be honest." the sorcerer shrugged, "More like forcibly paired partners. Montaron never showed any love for Xzar... but I can't think of any reason he would have defied his Zhentarim bosses by killing Xzar. I suppose the less dealings we have with their kind the better. At least we still have the gold Xzar promised us. Grab it and let's get moving."

"I think that would be for the best." Jaheira remarked, her eyes scanning in the direction of the Harper Hold. "I suspect my own Harpers have more to do with this killing than any of us might guess. We have been played by them in some manner... though just how will remain between them and Montaron."

X X X X X X X

The alleyway was dark, dank and smelled of both unwashed fabric and rotten fish, but it was still the most out of the way spot in the whole Docks district. It was open on both ends; almost simultaneously, the light on both ends of the alley was cut off as the two figures on either side approached to meet in the middle. The shorter of the two snarled at the sight of his opposite when they were close enough, his disdain and outright hatred for the man before him not withheld or hidden at all.

"Why Montaron... you sound somewhat displeased. Didn't you enjoy killing the wizard? I never held you as the sentimental sort."

"I'd much rather've enjoyed killing you, self-righteous Harper pig." he glared, his sword hand twitching as it handled the hilt of his blade.

"And that's exactly why we made you swear a Geas." Berinvar's tone turned cold as he unhooded himself before Montaron. "So you would make very certain that your sword found the right target. Very cooperative of you to agree."

"S'not like you gave me much of a choice." he spat. "Either that or learn to eat birdseed the rest of me life. Now are we done or what?!"

"Patience, Montaron." Berinvar shook one finger condescendingly. "You know as well as I that your Geas was lifted once you slayed Xzar. I'm actually somewhat impressed you even bothered to come as I requested."

" 'Requested'? Don't make me laugh." he said bitterly. "Like you wouldn't have killed me within minutes if I didn't follow your orders. Say whatever you like about your morals or ideals, but you Harpers are just like us. You just can't admit it."

Berinvar chuckled at Montaron's accusation; his hand dipped into the folds of his robes. Montaron's eyes narrowed as he watched, his hand quickly clutching his sword hilt... a bag clinking with the sound of gold coins came out in the Harper's grip. He extended the sack to Montaron, the thief glaring cautiously. "What's this?!"

"What does it look like?" Berinvar shrugged. "A small token of our gratitude, that's all. Xzar could have caused major problems for us had he gone unchecked. Forcibly or not, you did kill him for us. Consider our business finished."

Montaron took a small step forward, extending one hand slowly, obviously mistrusting of the so-called gift offered him... he snapped it away from Berinvar, peering inside greedily. A short few seconds passed before he seemed content with what he saw, closing the bag. "Hmph. Don't think this takes ye off my killin list, Harper. Probably won't even get any downtime from the nutty wizard; more'n likely the Zhents'll resurrect him once I report and pair me with him again."

Montaron turned and began stalking back out the alley, Berinvar watching the halfling leave, the bag of gold still clutched tightly in his hand. "They probably will..." Berinvar mused quietly, his hand sliding into the other side of his robes, drawing a crossbow out silently, the sight settling on Montaron's back. "If they ever find out he's dead..."

X X X X X X X

Night in Athkatla; the sound of peasants and guards shouting and calling back and forth still echoed faintly through the air, their distance away unknowable. Their senses were always more alert at this time, perhaps even more so since their capture by Irenicus, but no assassins slipped out of the darkness tonight; if the meeting was still on in the Graveyards, they would be dealing with creatures of an even darker design. The sound of the embers in the torches crackling whistled through their hearing as Yoshimo moved them further along, though Greywulf took the time to move a tad closer to Jaheira as he did, no better time having arisen since he had made the decision to talk with her.

"A moment, please?" Greywulf said quietly, dropping his pace enough so that Jaheira did the same until the two of them were just out of earshot of the rest of the group; more importantly out of the Avariel's hearing.

"What is it?" Jaheira asked with a frown, though she picked up on his cue to stay quiet.

"Well... how are you doing?" Greywulf asked hesitantly.

Jaheira gave a wry smile, the first since many days ago, and replied, "All right, I suppose. As well as can be expected in such times and places. And you?"

"Oh, not too bad."

"All right then." Jaheira said, turning her head to look in front of her again. "So, what did you really want to talk to me about?"

"It's about Aerie." Greywulf said cautiously.

Jaheira stiffened slightly and said, "What about her?"

"I'm just wondering exactly what about her bothers you so much. No offense Jaheira, but you've been really quite rude to her since she joined our party. I had expected a little more of a... welcoming attitude from you."

"She is naïve and inexperienced. Both make her a liability to the group; she needs to toughen up and get serious or she will fall, either with us or after she leaves the group. And if she falls with us, more than likely we will fall with her." Jaheira said, a hardness to her voice.

"Now is that really all, because I seem to remember a young man just like that who joined you and Khalid nearly two years ago."

Jaheira snorted and replied, "It is more appropriate to say we joined you. But you are right, you were much the same. However, you matured quickly, forcibly even, as you were the leader. She is a follower and has no such demands upon her."

"I suppose, but I still think you should be a little gentler."

"For your sake and yours alone, I will attempt as such. But just make sure that her attention stays on the mission at hand, and not… other things."

Greywulf looked at Jaheira with a hint of confusion in his eyes, "What exactly does that mean?"

Jaheira raised one green eye and said in a lowered voice, "Come now Greywulf. Are you that unobservant?"

After a continued look of puzzlement from Greywulf, Jaheira sighed and continued, "I suppose so. You do not see most of it because you stand at the lead, but it is obvious to me. The quick glances she is always giving you, concerned over every nick and scratch you get, following you like a shadow, always looking for your approval… can you not guess?"

"You think she's fallen in love with me?" Greywulf asked incredulously.

"Infatuated, is probably more the correct term. But yes, she has developed feelings for you."

"Jaheira…" Greywulf said with a disbelieving tone, "You've got to be kidding me. I know I'm ruggedly handsome, roguishly charming, and a heck of a mage-"

"You forgot unbearably humble." Jaheira said, her tone slick with sarcasm.

"Well, that too. But I think you're reading too much into this. We've known each other for what, seven days?"

"Come on, Greywulf, _think_. An innocent young girl, little or no exposure in the world, hurt physically and emotionally by events in her past, cursed by a mad illusionist on top of it all… then is rescued and meets the 'roguishly charming' hero, who not only sets her free and saves her home, but allows her to come with him on his noble quest for adventure and rescue. What is it called, a 'damsel in distress'?" Jaheira said, counting off each point on her fingers. "Unless you let her down easily now, it will only lead to hurt in the party."

Greywulf thought for a moment and said somewhat mischievously, "And what if I was attracted to Aerie too, the beautiful damsel in distress?"

Jaheira snorted, apparently unaware of Greywulf's joking tone and said, "I should think you would be a little more judicious in your decisions about whom to give your heart. Pretty yes, but I would hope your attractions would extend past looks and include some measure of wisdom, experience, someone you have known for more than a week-"

"Someone like you?" Greywulf interrupted her with a barely suppressed grin.

"Yes- I mean NO!" Jaheira said, the last word a flustered shout.

Before she could punch, push or otherwise inflict bodily harm upon him, Greywulf practically ran to the head of the line again, leaving the irritated druid behind cursing at him.

"What was that about?" Minsc asked Greywulf, looking behind him at the fuming Jaheira.

_If looks could kill, I'd probably be half-melted by now. _"Uh, we just had a frank exchange of ideas, that's all." Greywulf said, chuckling.

No more time was given for humor as Yoshimo shushed him, gesturing to the beginnings of the tombs and structures signaling they had entered the Graveyard District. The group slowly passed under the large archway that announced its presence before them. Stone carvings and tombs were scattered everywhere, a cobblestone path winding through the crypts and gravestone covered paths. Statues of death and the lords of the underworld were populous, their gaze overseeing their earthly realm. Carvings of great intricacy adorned the majestic houses of the dead, making them seem as though kings of splendor lived there, rather than the rotting bones of the deceased. The wind had picked up just enough to make the various chimes hung about rattle, though they seemed eerie and threatening at such an hour rather than melodious.

A chill passed through the group as a whole; it wasn't just from the cool night air. Greywulf took a deep breath, then motioned for them to follow, searching for their contact amidst the dead. Shadows were prevalent and many a swaying limb in the wind gave them pause, but no living being was forthcoming as they hurriedly scoured the small district. Finally reuniting at the center of the area, huddled under the large cross in the middle, they were still alone, and no one was to be seen.

"Do you think they are still waiting for us?" Yoshimo whispered, his hand fidgeting around the hilt of the dagger he had at his belt.

"Just wait. They'll be here. I can feel them." Greywulf said as he scanned the surrounding area intently.

"Feel them?" Jaheira frowned as she continued to scan the area. "What I feel does not mix well with Nature… be wary, Greywulf. All is not as it appears."

"Don't ask, I just can. Something… there. Over by the statue of Kelemvor. That shadow is… moving."

Just as he spoke, a dark figure zoomed through the streets of the Graveyard, shadowlike in movement. It finally slowed beside the five adventurers, to reveal the woman Valen, as dark and mysterious as the first time they had seen her.

"Greywulf… I had feared you would not come, though my mistress had faith in your arrival." Valen whispered, walking towards the man.

"Yes, we are here." Greywulf said, blood rushing to his head at the sight of Valen again.

"I see your companions are with you as well. That is acceptable, though I had hoped we would be able to negotiate in a more… private place." Valen said, winking at Greywulf as she scanned him up and down, much like a predator looking at its prey.

"I would advise against that." Jaheira said coldly, staring at Valen.

"I did not ask your opinion, Jaheira; I can make my own decisions!" Greywulf snapped at Jaheira, taking her aback.

"I am glad to see you are a leader who can assert control if need be... but my servant's offer will be unnecessary." a second voice came from the darkness, taking shape as another dark woman appeared, her hair cut short in a spiky fashion upon her head. Wrapped in what amounted to be a skin-tight leather bodice, the darkness seemed to ebb and flow from within her rather than around her. "Welcome, Greywulf. I am Bodhi, master of this guild. I see Valen did deliver my message after all. I was considering having her whipped for failing me, but I suppose I shall spare her now."

"We have come... but why did you require we meet in such a dark place?" Greywulf managed, feeling a haze begin to cover his thoughts... the surprise at his own words toward Jaheira still trying to register in his mind.

"Let's just say that the dark suits me and my guild much better than the light. We are… not used to going out during the daylight hours." she hissed.

"Nosferatu." Yoshimo whispered in a trembling voice, his hand unconsciously drifting towards the dagger at his belt.

"Very good." Bodhi said, congratulating Yoshimo with a sneer. "Yes, we are vampires, but do not let such biases affect your decisions. I offer you a chance to get Imoen back, to find Irenicus, and to do it all for five thousand gold less than the Shadow Thieves are offering. You know our guild grows stronger each day. It would be wise to join us, rather than placing your faith in a dying force."

"I'm afraid you're a bit late. The Shadow Thieves have made that same offer, for the same gold, and I have already agreed to their terms. What say you to that?" he said, trying to buy himself some time for his mind to clear.

Bodhi laughed, an unpleasant sound, "I say you would be a fool not to join me. Come now, how long do you think they will last against my guild? I will decrease my price to ten thousand if that will suffice. All you would have to do to make up the difference is perform a few tasks to help us in our methods. Nothing big, just a few kills here and there."

Greywulf felt his head throb with every heartbeat, "I don't kill innocents."

"Oh no, no innocents. Just Shadow Thieves. They're as dirty as anyone. Do you really think you can trust them? Haven't they been spying on you this whole time? Do you think they will take just your gold for their aid? You know they will sic you on my guild; that is something you won't want to do, I can promise you that." Even as Greywulf's disjointed thoughts jumbled through his mind, he was shocked back into coherency by Bodhi abruptly commanding, "Enough talk. We have made our proposal and you must decide your allegiances now. What say you?"

Greywulf saw red as her voice pounded in his head. _She makes sense. Why throw in with the Shadow Thieves? They will lose anyway; I don't want vampires for enemies. Yes. Yes, I should join them. It makes... makes sense-_

"Greywulf?" Aerie's voice cut into his thoughts, her worried look meeting his whirling gaze. "Are you okay-"

"I'm fine, Aerie! I'm just fine!" he spat, his eyes tinted red as he spoke. "The only thing bothering me around here is you, constantly whining and hanging on like some sick, wingless-"

Greywulf found himself on the ground before he had even registered Minsc's fist moving, the ranger's eyes narrowed at Greywulf. "I am sorry, Greywulf... but you are out of line."

The sorcerer's face contorted in anger for a brief second... before his eyes flashed their normal color again, his face dropping in realization at the words he had spoken. He finally managed a shocked whisper, "I... I'm sorry... Aerie."

Still, the anger returned to his face as he glanced back over at Bodhi and Valen, the somewhat bemused expressions on their faces at the altercation not helping matters. Bodhi apparently saw his fury as he stood up again, she smirked and said, "Perhaps Valen was correct, it might be best if we were to hold the rest of this meeting without your companions if they cause you such grief-"

"The only thing causing me grief right now is you." he growled, clutching his weapon tightly as he stared down the two vampires. "You wanted our help? My help? Mind-control and deception wasn't the way to get it. Take your guild and your so-called help; we won't be needing or wanting it. Consider your offer rejected."

Bodhi stared at the five with a withering look of disgust, "As you wish. You are free to go. The next time we meet, you will wish you had accepted my offer. And when that time comes, there will be no mercy granted."

"Brave words, vampire." Jaheira said tightly, fixing Bodhi with a hard stare. "Greywulf has been underestimated before, by far worse than you. You will rue the day of conflict when it comes, I think."

Bodhi sneered briefly faded into a wisp of vapor along with Valen, the two disappearing without another word.

Greywulf exhaled deeply, turning back to the others in silence... unwilling to meet the pain and hurt that was still far too obvious in Aerie's eyes.

X X X X X X X

"Incompetent worm!" Bodhi screeched as she swatted Valen with her hand, sending her flying across the tomb they were in. The girl stumbled to her feet, Bodhi grabbing her by the neck and slamming her against the wall with a hiss.

"Please, mistress… I will not fail again."

"A dunking in holy water awaits you if you should fail me again." Bodhi growled as she threw Valen down. "All you had to do was weaken Greywulf's will enough to get him to succumb to my power. You couldn't even get him to leave his meddling friends behind!"

"He is stronger than I had thought." Valen said before getting slapped again.

"Speak when I tell you to." Bodhi growled. "Your domination spell is worthless now... he will make sure it is nullified before we meet again. This will be harder than I had hoped... still, it could prove interesting. Now go and prepare for another strike on the Shadow Thieves territory. I will think of our next move."

As Valen bowed and left, Bodhi began weaving a spell, summoning forth a portal of energy that finally cleared to reveal the inside of the Spellhold asylum. An orc stood in front, obviously frightened by the visage of Bodhi, and bowed, grunting.

"Slave! See if you can perform this simple task." Bodhi hissed at the orc. "Go find your master and bid him come and speak with me. Tell Irenicus that I have important news."

X X X X X X X

"Have you talked with Aerie yet?" Jaheira asked, glancing back at the double room Aerie, Minsc, and Yoshimo were sharing down the hall as she and Greywulf opened the door to their own room at the Coronet.

"No..." Greywulf said quietly as he finally unlocked the door and stepped in. "I just... I don't really know what to tell her, Jaheira."

"How about that you're sorry." she sighed as she followed him in.

"You know as well as I that it's not so easy..." he shook his head. "It's not just her though... I owe you an apology too, Jaheira. I said things back there... I should have trusted you when you warned me about Valen."

"At least we dispelled the domination magics she had over you." Jaheira noted. "Still... you must get rid of this nasty habit of making party members feel the need to hit you."

"Only when I deserve it." he smiled weakly back. "That's been a lot these days."

"Then perhaps it is time you rectify the situation." she glanced back toward the doorway. "I most certainly recommend you do this before we split up."

Greywulf waited for a moment... then nodded, mouthed a quick 'thank-you' and headed out the door.

Across the hall, Minsc, Aerie and Yoshimo had finished their preparations; Aerie had headed straight to bed, taking the adjoining room over by herself. Despite their attempts at cheering her up or comforting her, Aerie had not been in the mood to listen or talk. Still, the two of them stayed up a while longer, swapping stories of their own as they hoped and waited for Aerie to join them, or express some desire to open up.

Minsc sighed as he looked over at the door where Aerie slept behind, then turned back to Yoshimo. "So, Yoshimo... where are you from? What is this 'Kara-Tur' like?"

"Me?" he puffed up his chest in a heroic position and declared, "Kara-Tur is a land far to the west and across the sea, a place of honor and glory, where every man and woman makes their own destiny. Blown far from my homeland, I seek the glory and riches that only adventuring can bring!"

"Why a thief though?" Minsc frowned. "As a thief you cannot do nearly the good that can be done as a warrior like Minsc!"

Yoshimo laughed and said, "True, but you cannot fill your pocket nearly as quick either. Still, I was raised in a society where honor means everything; to commit anything remotely dishonorable is a horrid thing in Kara-Tur. I still abide by those guidelines and so I only steal from those who have more to spare. Really, I am more of a bounty hunter than a thief, hunting those who have committed wrong and using my rogue skills to aid me."

"I see... though Boo still agrees with me."

"Minsc, perhaps you could enlighten me about this companion of yours." Yoshimo asked with an arched eyebrow, peering at Boo. "Where did you find such a rare creature as this... 'miniature giant space hamster'?"

"Oh, Boo has been with me a very long time, though not as long as my dajemma. It started just after I had left with Dynaheir… we were just about to leave a town where we had defeated a mighty horde of gnolls. A grand battle it was, Yoshimo! My sword has not seen such adventure and excitement since… well, except for after joining with Greywulf, and we've had some pretty exciting times since then, what with Sarevok, and the Iron Throne,- Oh, but Boo says I am rambling. Back to the story."

"We were fine examples of heroic heroes heroing about as we heroed our way into all manner of heroic deeds of heroism, my witch and me, and we had defeated all the gnolls there, with a little help from a wizard who happened to be around at the time. He was talking to me afterwards, and after we had discussed the art of righteous butt-kicking and boot-stomping for a moment, he told me had recently acquired Boo, and that I seemed to be the perfect caregiver for such a magnificent sage. I tell you, one look at Boo and I knew his wisdom would be of great use to us! Since then, he has been everywhere I have gone to, all except for Rashemen itself. Although I believe Boo would have a mighty fine time. He would look some kind of funny running around in a snow drift, let me tell you!"

"And where is Rashemen?" Yoshimo asked.

"Rashemen is a very, very, long ways away." Minsc said, brow knit in thought as he pondered his homeland. "I have taken oh so many steps since leaving there; Boo used to keep track of just how many steps it has been, but he has since lost count. Boo claims that the number is very large. Larger, maybe, than the number of butts that Minsc has deservedly kicked along the way. I find this hard to believe, even though Boo is usually very reliable in these matters."

"Yes... so Rashemen is very far away. What sort of place is it? Did you like it?" Yoshimo chuckled, inwardly pondering if he would ever get any information from the ever addled ranger.

"It is a wonderful place with many fields. It could only be better, maybe, if every ranger of the Berserker Lodge had his very own hamster. Just think of the implications!"

"But what of the witches? Dynaheir was your witch, correct?" Yoshimo nodded, waving for him to continue.

"Yes, Dynaheir was a good Rashemani witch." Minsc nodded. "But I am not so sure that the witches have need of their own hamsters. Dynaheir never approved of Boo… she used to glare at Boo so; it frightened him sometimes."

A rap at their door silenced them, Yoshimo standing to answer. Greywulf stood there, a nervous smile on his face. "Hey... uh, is Aerie still up? I needed to talk with her for a bit, if she's not-"

"Aerie is asleep right now." Minsc remarked; a hint of a gruff tone could still be heard in his voice. "Perhaps you should speak with her tomorrow."

"Um... sure." Greywulf nodded to Minsc, glancing over at the closed door to the side. "Look Minsc... you know I'd never have-"

"But you did." he said quietly.

Greywulf was silent for a moment, then sighed. "Yeah... I did. And regardless of intention, it's still my fault. Tell her I'm sorry."

The sound of the door opening drew all their attention, watching Aerie step out, looking over at Greywulf. "I'm awake... i-if you want to talk, I..."

"Hey guys... can you give us a moment real quick?" Greywulf asked hesitantly, the two men nodding and leaving the room, presumably to head over to Jaheira's room until he came back.

After they had left, Greywulf approached Aerie, his mouth moving... he caught himself as he saw the tear stain trails on her cheeks; the slight hint of redness in her eyes was still there. "Forgive me, Aerie." he finally managed. "I never meant to hurt you like that."

"It wasn't you." she said with a weak smile. "I mean... I know, I know you wouldn't have said those things on purpose... it's just the memories they brought back... things I wanted to forget so much..."

"It was like I could see myself again, feel myself... back in the circus, after my owner had decided that my wings had become too diseased. I had been laying in my cage, sweating and delirious for days… his men came and pulled me out, and my wings burned so! I could barely cry out, I was so weak! And… and then they began to saw off my wings… hacking at them with rusted knives! I screamed and screamed! They… hacked off my wings and then used… torches to sear the wounds! Oh, Greywulf, I… I…!"

Long minutes passed as Greywulf embraced and held the sobbing girl, letting the grief and fear and sorrow roll off her in waves as he held her tightly. "It's all right, Aerie... shh... it's all right."

"I can… I can still feel my wings being torn from my back… I-I'm sorry, Greywulf. It was so long ago, I should not be so torn like this." Aerie finally calmed herself enough to look back at him, trying to blink the tears from her eyes.

"No, I understand completely... you went through a terrible experience. I can sit here with you for a while longer if you like…"

Another knock at the door jolted them both, Greywulf giving Aerie another tight hug before striding over to answer the door. it opened to reveal Yoshimo, Minsc, Jaheira and Hendak, grim looks over all faces.

"I'm sorry to disturb you both," Hendak began, "But I have urgent news for all of you."

"What is going on, Hendak?" Greywulf asked with a frown.

"Tonight at the bar, a group of cloaked men came and asked about a group matching your description. They seemed most desperate to find you; their intentions did not seem friendly, to say the least. I managed to drive them off with a minimum of trouble, but I cannot guarantee your safety should you stay here at the Coronet tonight."

"Surely they would not be so foolish to attack here." Yoshimo shook his head.

"We were foolish enough and we won." Greywulf admitted.

"What do you suggest we do?" Jaheira asked Hendak. "We could prepare a trap for them-"

"Too many innocents around. We can't risk hurting the other inn patrons in a large-scale fight." Greywulf shook his head.

"Then your only recourse is to leave; it is not safe for you here any longer." Hendak grunted. "I suggest you pack your bags and prepare to leave the Copper Coronet three hours before dawn. Hopefully, they will not expect this. I will accompany you to the outskirts of the slums district to make sure you get off safely."

"There is no need for that, Hendak. You have done more than enough to help already." Greywulf insisted.

"No, I cannot do enough to help. You have saved me from a life of slavery and it is a debt I will never be able to repay. Allow me to do this for you."

"If you will come then we will be glad for the extra help." he nodded. "There are still a few hours before we should leave. Everyone get your things repacked and we will make for Waukeen's Promenade in the morning. Is this acceptable, Hendak?"

"I will be ready." the gladiator said, turning and heading back downstairs.

"This changes nothing of our original plan." Greywulf said after a moment of deliberation. "Aerie, Minsc and Yoshimo, you should still go and get this business with Renal Bloodscalp taken care of. Jaheira and I will go and deal with this cult in the Temple District, and see if we can't meet up with the paladin that the Temple of Helm told us about. After we reach the Promenade we split up, then meet back at the Copper Coronet in a week's time or earlier."

There was no other disturbance that night as they prepared for the next day, though their senses were once more at high alert, aware of the new threat to their lives, once more from an unknown source. More than once a creaky floorboard or door hinge caused a quick turn, but the appointed hour did arrive without incident. They met with Hendak downstairs and were soon out of the Coronet, creeping through the slum streets in the brief hours before dawn. They had almost reached the outskirts of the slums just as the beginnings of the morning sun broke over the horizon when Hendak suddenly stopped, motioning for quiet.

"What is it?" Minsc whispered, looking around as he pulled both axes from their straps on his back.

"I can hear someone following us... I had disregarded it earlier, but I hear it clearly now."

"I don't hear anything." Jaheira said with a frown.

"They have stopped moving." Hendak's eyes narrowed. "Quickly, follow me. I will try to lose them."

Hendak darted down a side alley, the others close behind. He led them through a veritable maze of streets, alleys, and corners, leading them through every route imaginable through the streets of Athkatla. In the end though, either Hendak's direction or luck failed them, leading them into a dead-end.

"Do you think we lost them?" Aerie asked, looking around with a hint of fear.

"Not likely." The rasp came from four cloaked men standing at the end of the alleyway, blocking the exit. As they approached, their shadows fell across the the group, blocking the light. Without any further dialogue, the four men each drew long swords from their sheaths and approached as one, abruptly leaping at the group with tremendous speed. Hendak had both of his short swords ready, using them well as leverage to fight against his opponent. Between parrying and blocking, Hendak seemed to be gaining an advantage, pushing his foe back as they traded blows.

Greywulf had already prepared himself to fight without his magic, thrusting out his quarterstaff to knock aside one of the leaping attackers. He merely rolled with the blow and jumped to his feet, renewing the attack on the sorcerer. Yoshimo and Aerie were faced with a man who had drawn a second long sword, parrying both Yoshimo's katanas and Aerie's staff at the same time. Despite all their efforts to surround the man and leave one of them with an open spot of attack, he was too quick, able to keep both opponents in front of him at all times.

Minsc and Jaheira had squared off against one as well, using the long range of Jaheira's spear to keep him at distance, while Minsc drove forward with both axes, swinging and hacking at the man, keeping him off-balance. As they fought, Greywulf took a chance and made a wild forward swing at his opponent's face. The attack did not pay off; he had seen it coming and already leapt back. With a few sword slashes he had maneuvered past Greywulf's outer defenses and was pressing for a quick victory. Seeing Greywulf's peril, Hendak swiftly disengaged from his fight and lent his sword to a block, protecting Greywulf from a mortal blow.

Greywulf quickly took up Hendak's former opponent, keeping him at bay while Hendak fought against his new foe. Meanwhile, Minsc and Jaheira had cornered their opponent, and with a mighty yell, Minsc brought Frostreaver down to cleave the man's head in two. But his strike was too slow, giving the man time to dodge aside and bring his weapon down upon Minsc's. Frostreaver fell to the ground with a clatter, putting Minsc on the defensive as he attempted to save himself from the warrior's furious assault. Jaheira had not been idle, though.

The moment the man's attention had switched fully to Minsc, she pulled the elvish dagger from her belt and flung it at the man, pinning his hand to the wall with a scream of pain. Minsc seized the opportunity and slew the man quickly, leaving Jaheira open to help Greywulf, visibly struggling against his enemy. Just as she stepped in to help, a shadow swept over the group, the sound of a cloak in the wind flapping above. Looking up quickly, Jaheira saw two men falling from the rooftops, garbed the same as the others with their weapons ready. She barked a word of warning, but it was too late. Before Hendak could turn to face this new threat, a sword slipped into his side, the man before him razing him across the chest. The mighty warrior fell with a groan of pain, the twin short swords falling from his grip.

"Hendak!" Aerie cried, abandoning caution as she came running to him, stopped by the man who had attacked him from behind. Her eyes widened as he attacked, her staff little protection. Her meager defense was broken in a moment... with a spinning blind thrust, the man's sword plunged into Aerie's stomach.

Minsc turned from his fight with wide eyes just in time to see Aerie hit the ground, anguish on her face.


	22. Part 1: A Fate Worse

Minsc lashed out with a scream born of maddened fury as his berserker wrath took over, his axe hewing the head of the man who had cut Aerie down. With a barreling run he knocked the dead man's body away and lunged forward, striking with enough force to physically tackle the other attacker, his already impressive strength heightened by the berserker rage and easily overwhelming the assassin. The other survivors quickly saw Minsc's fury turning toward them and preferred flight to death; as they ran Minsc gave chase with a howl, abandoning all in his quest for vengeance.

"Minsc! Stop!" Jaheira shouted, grabbing his arm even as he pulled her along, the druid unwilling to release her grip.

"THEY HAVE KILLED MY WITCH! I WILL RAIN BEATINGS UPON THEIR BLOODIED SKULLS FOR THIS!" Minsc screamed, his eyes red with rage, raising Stonefire to strike Jaheira if she did not release him.

"Minsc… Aerie may yet be saved, but you must… be… calm." Jaheira said, meeting Minsc's enraged gaze, not backing down. "You must help us… guard us while we heal her. Do you understand?"

Minsc's nostrils flared as he glanced at Aerie's bleeding body still lying in the street, then managed a nod, though his muscles were still visibly tight, the enormous ranger more imposing than ever.

Jaheira let him go and hurried over to Aerie, slipping off the bracers she wore and rolling up the sleeves on her under armor tunic. Minsc also came over to Aerie, kneeling next to her, looking at the heavy wounds she had endured. Jaheira quickly padded the bloody wound with a heavy cloth, trying to at least slow the bleeding as she prepared her own healing magics. Aerie's eyes fluttered as she looked up at Minsc, coughing slightly. She tried to smile, but a fit of pain overcame her, dropping her head back to the cold street.

"Do not worry, little Aerie." Minsc said nervously, holding her hand in his massive palms. "You…. you cannot die, not like Dynaheir… you are Minsc's witch… he will keep you safe... he promised he would…"

Jaheira pulled away the bloodied cloth over her stomach, her face calm despite the renewed flow of blood from her stomach. She glanced at Minsc for a split second, knowing that her own safety depended on her skill at healing. Despite Minsc's bravery and loyalty, he would probably not be able to handle losing Aerie as he had lost Dynaheir. If she truly died, friend and foe would undoubtedly be the same to him... and since no foes were present, his friends would likely take that place in his mind.

She took a deep breath then performed a quick cleansing spell, washing away the majority of blood covering the wound until it was somewhat visible enough for her to focus on. She began her incantations, letting a blue haze from her mouth and hands fall over the wounds. The light healing spells she limited herself to in order to keep from attracting the Cowled Wizards were not nearly potent enough to heal or even close the gaping cut, but the bleeding slowed noticeably, lengthening her remaining time before death's icy grip claimed her.

She continued the work of healing, Minsc's rage giving way to nervousness and worry as he held Aerie's hand. When Jaheira's words finally ended, her eyes fluttering open with a deep breath, she nodded in satisfaction. Aerie was not out of danger, the wound was still bleeding heavily... but she might last long enough to get to a Temple. Greywulf had knelt down next to Hendak, who was faintly stirring as Greywulf uncorked a potion on his belt. "Hendak," he said gently, "Can you hold on?"

He looked up at the sorcerer above him, "I am sorry… I wanted to help…"

"You fought bravely." Greywulf said, squeezing his shoulder with a grim smile. "Drink this, it will help."

Hendak drank the healing potion offered him but quickly lapsed back into unconsciousness.

"We need to get them some real healing." Jaheira said grimly, picking up Aerie's body and moving to the end of the alleyway. "Minsc, bring Hendak. I recall seeing a small temple not too far from the Copper Coronet. They will both die soon if we cannot get them there quickly."

Minsc nodded; after retrieving Frostreaver he picked up Hendak and carried him until they reached the temple Jaheira had spoken of. Rushing in, a cleric of Lathander approached quickly, noting the arrivals with grim concern. "Quickly, put them over here."

They were laid on the cots shown, while the cleric began his healing spells. Their bodies began glowing with a white light, the magic replenishing their bodies by divine power. After almost a half-hour of this the cleric stepped back, exhaling deeply .

"I can do no more for now." he said, wiping his brow. "They are still badly injured, but I think the girl will likely pull through. As for the man... I cannot say for sure. The two wounds will take a long time to heal completely."

Greywulf pulled a large sum of gold from their funds and gave it to the cleric. "Here. This should cover any fees required. How long, pray tell, do you think it will take these two to get back on their feet? We need to keep moving; a long time is the one thing we don't have."

The cleric thought for a moment, "The girl could be up and around in another day or so with my constant attention. The man is as I said, unsure. It could be a few days, a few weeks... possibly never."

"Please, do your best to help him." Greywulf said. "Hendak is the new proprietor of the Copper Coronet and a good man. When he is well enough to leave, he will go there. As for Aerie, she will be accompanying us."

"You must take good care of her." Minsc affirmed, looking at the cleric earnestly. "She is Minsc's witch, and I swore to protect her. If it will help, Boo can led his wisdom to the situation."

"I will do my best, rest assured. She won't be moving for a while, though. You are welcome to stay here for as long as she needs to recover." the cleric said, glancing at the ranger's hamster oddly.

"Thank you." Greywulf said. "Minsc, you and Yoshimo stay with her. As much as I'd rather we stay until both of them are back up and moving... we just don't have that kind of time. Jaheira and I will continue on to the Temple District; we'll check back here with you as soon as we can. If we have not returned before Aerie has recovered, assume we have started investigating the quest the Temple of Helm gave us. In that case, proceed as we planned; with any luck we'll at the very least meet back up at the Copper Coronet."

"Understood." Yoshimo said. "Stay well, my friends."

"The same to you. Keep Minsc and Aerie out of too much trouble."

Just as Minsc began to ask what that meant, the sorcerer turned and walked out with his cloak billowing behind him, Jaheira close behind him.

The two companions left the small temple and began heading out of the slums, the reality of the dangers they faced fresh in their mind once more with the injuries to Hendak and Aerie. The world seemed a bit darker now... colder, almost. Greywulf glanced over at Jaheira and said, "What do you think about those men who attacked us? They reminded me of Shadow Thieves... but if we're helping them, why would they hit us again?"

"I would not trust anything about these cutthroats, despite the promises Gaelan Bayle makes to us. You can be far too trusting sometimes, Greywulf." Jaheira said, a slight hint of admonishing in her voice.

"True, but without trust you don't get too far." Greywulf shrugged. "Besides, since we've completely alienated Bodhi and her guild, the Shadow Thieves are really our only option."

"I suppose." Jaheira said reluctantly.

"Of course," Greywulf added with a hint of anger, "If it turns out that they really were behind the attack that almost killed Hendak and Aerie, there'll be hell to pay."

Jaheira smiled slightly as they pushed on through the rest of the streets and slums until they reached the Temple District once again.

"You have not told me all of the details surrounding this particular jaunt." Jaheira noted. "What exactly are we dealing with?"

Greywulf told her everything the temple of Helm and Sir Oisig had related to them, ranging from the prophet Gaal and the paladin who would aid them to their duties as they investigated. "You were right." Jaheira nodded as he finished the tale.

"About what?"

"Us. No matter what we do, it always leads back down to the sewer system. You couldn't find a job with a little more..."

"Dignity? Cleanliness? Sanitation?"

"All of the above." Jaheira gestured towards an approaching armored man as she spoke. "Hold. I believe we are expected."

"Hail, friends." the watchknight raised one hand, bowing to the two adventurers. "The All-Seeing Helm has witnessed your arrival... the time of your duty is at hand. Sir Oisig will meet you in the center of the district by the Fount of Tymora, just before the evening bell tolls. Be there and remember that Helm sees all; know this and be judged."

Greywulf watched the man disappear back into the crowds of people that were rapidly filling the Temple district, worshippers and clerics alike heading to their jobs or confessions. He glanced back up at the sun, still rising in the sky, then exhaled as he shrugged at Jaheira.

"So, I suppose we must simply wait for night until the mighty Helmites deign to contact us again." Jaheira growled impatiently in the direction the knight had left them. "A completely waste of our time... blast, our progress is not as it should be, I am sure."

She caught herself in mid stride, giving Greywulf an apologetic smile. "I'm sorry, Greywulf. I know how much you desire to regain Imoen... I should not be so negative."

"It's all right." he waved her off. "There'll be no more bouts of Sarevok-impersonation on my part. The talk we had a few nights ago did me a world of good after that last nightmare."

"I am glad to hear it. Nevertheless, I am not accustomed to sitting on my hands while we await another's timetable. You and I both prefer action to simply waiting."

"True... neither of us are the most patient sorts. Especially you." Greywulf chuckled.

"You might have been surprised had you known me long ago." Jaheira countered. "I was not always this way... my life was once quite different than what you see before you now."

"And what did your life used to be like?" Greywulf asked as they walked together, making their way through the various bridges and pathways of the Temple district, walking everywhere and yet nowhere at once. "I cannot quite picture you other than you are."

"Oh, I am certainly meant to be this way... my 'destiny', if you forgive me the use of your reserved word," she replied. "But... but I once lived quite peacefully. Druids took me in very young; you can only be calm when surrounded by balance."

After a few more moments of silence, Jaheira continued with her eyes drifting toward the ground, "It was like that for a long time... a constant in my world, the grove and the peace I felt there... but I always knew in my heart, more needed to be done. Balance needed to be encouraged."

Her head came up she spoke, a fire gleaming in her eyes. "I wouldn't let it happen again..."

"You wouldn't allow what to happen again?" Greywulf inquired, intrigued by this sudden intensity in her voice.

Jaheira seemed to jolt out of a trance; for a brief moment she seemed uncertain of what to say to his question. She cleared her throat and explained, "Oh... nothing. Nothing at all. I'm just rambling on... talking to a trusted friend helps ease the soul; something I am sure we both need after what all we have gone through. I hope I do as much for you as well… for the good of the party."

"Of course." he nodded, unwilling to pry further if she was uncomfortable with the discussion.

"And Greywulf," she continued softly, catching his eyes, "Thank you for listening to my ramblings... tedious though I am sure they are. I do enjoy these talks we have."

"Any time you wish to talk," Greywulf affirmed, returning her a smile, "I will listen."

"I appreciate that. Come, since we have a day to wait, let us pay our friend Gaelan Bayle a visit and see what he knows of this attack."

X X X X X X X

Imoen awakened to the noise of a magical flash, wincing as the light shone into the cell, illuminating her thin and worn features. No longer the healthy, joyful girl she had been when with Greywulf, she was now bruised, battered, and worn to the bone.

"You are awake... I am pleased."

Imoen looked up in horror to see Irenicus walking into the cell, his face expressionless. She pulled herself away from him, pleading, "Please… No more beatings or tortures. Not again… please."

Irenicus shook his head, gesturing toward the open cell door behind him. "Don't worry Imoen... I have something different planned for you today. Come with me now... unless of course, you would prefer to do this the hard way."

After a few seconds, Imoen got up from the cot she had been lying on and hobbled painfully over to Irenicus, the edges of his lips curling upwards just barely.

Irenicus motioned to the orcs flanking him. "Bring her to the chamber. It is time."

Three orcs stepped out of the shadows, each armed with swords and heavy armor. They began pushing at Imoen, leading her down a dark path of stone and brick and into a larger room full of electrical equipment; obviously magical devices humming with dormant energy. At one time Imoen would have fought tooth and nail against the foul beasts guarding her the moment they left Irenicus' sight... but the tortures Irenicus had inflicted upon her had done their work.

Constant beatings that brought her to the edge of death before Irenicus would heal her... then start again. Days on end with no food or water, then being given just enough to survive upon. She no longer had the will to fight... not by herself, not alone. Thoughts of Greywulf, Minsc, Jaheira... those whom she longed to see and prayed each day for them to come and free her... she survived by clinging on to those faces, that slim hope. The orcs prodded her into the room but she tripped as she entered, falling to the cold stone floor. The orcs snorted in disgust and picked up Imoen's limp body, throwing her across the room, next to a large glass chamber, a sliding door open before her. Imoen looked at the chamber fearfully, but she had not the will to run. She merely whimpered as the orcs rumbled over and picked her up and threw her into the chamber. As she lay in the middle of the chamber, she heard the footsteps of iron clad boots. Looking up, she saw Irenicus standing over her, looking down upon her with what looked like great intrigue and anticipation.

"Do not fear Imoen... this will not take long."

He bent down and pulled her to her feet, then turned and walked out of the glass chamber; as he left it sealed, enclosing Imoen inside. Unsteady but sill standing, for the first time Imoen got a look around the room. Laid across the walls were glass chambers just like the one she was in, but with far less magical equipment connected to it. Inside each jar was a Shadow Thief or a Cowled Wizard, looks of dread or resigned hopelessness on their faces.

Looking out of her glass prison she saw a new face, a dark and sinister woman standing next to Irenicus. Bodhi glanced at Irenicus as she studied the chamber and its inhabitant. "Hmm… she's one of them? Truly? I would not have guessed by the pathetic state I see before me."

Imoen shuddered involuntarily as the woman circled the cage, finally turning back to Irenicus with a sigh. "If you are certain of her identity... we're too close now to dawdle, brother."

"Do not fear, sister... " Irenicus said quietly to the vampire at his side, his eyes narrowing at Imoen. "She is indeed what you seek. I have seen her soul... and it is indeed dark."

"What are you talking about?! Why are you doing this!! Just kill me and be done with it!" Imoen screamed, slamming her fist against the glass in despair.

"We'll do that soon enough..." Bodhi purred, stepping forth to kneel before the glass prison. "I require something of you first... and I will have it!"

"What??" Imoen screamed, pounding on the glass again and again until she fell to the floor, sobbing. "What do you want?"

An explosion of magic seemed to ignite in the machine behind Irenicus as he began chanting and speaking the arcane words he had mastered. Imoen backed up from the front of the cage, her eyes following the blasts of energy with fear. As Irenicus reached the apex of his magics, a surge of energy ran through the cables attached to each other cell. As the magic reached each cell, the person inside began convulsing, their bodies being shaken violently as Irenicus' magics surged into their bodies. Screams echoed from the victims even as their spirits were forcibly pulled out of their bodies, transferred through the cables along with Irenicus' magic.

The magic of the cable finally reached her cell, having draining all the others. The lightning stretched out to strike Bodhi at the same time, surging through her eyes and mouth, the vampire screeching alongside the booms of thunder and magic. Finally, the ritual struck Imoen as well, blinding her with a flash of light and pain... then all was black.

X X X X X X

It was the second time in the span of a week the elven maiden had awoken with the only thing really letting her know that she was still alive being the throbbing sensation of pain that ran through her body... particularly the stomach area this time around. "Where…where am I?"

"You are in a Temple of Lathander, my child... and you have just been healed from your wounds. You are, quite frankly, lucky to be alive." a kindly voice emanating from the cleric caught Aerie's attention as she opened her eyes to see him standing over her, patting her shoulder once before he stepped away to attend to Hendak.

"Aerie!" the voice of Minsc boomed out as he rushed over to the girl and picked her up off the bed and hugged her in his massive arms, not noticing her squeal of pain as he embraced his charge. "Minsc's joy at seeing you alive and well knows no bounds! I... I was afraid that I had failed to protect you too, but you are well! Yes Boo, Aerie is fine and we can lift our heads once more! See how excited Boo is, Aerie?"

"Minsc does not exaggerate." Yoshimo said with a chuckle as he folded his arms, standing on the other side of Aerie's bed. "The hamster could barely contain his excitement. I told Minsc to calm him down but he would not listen. Boo nearly trampled your sleeping form in his merriment."

Aerie smiled weakly at Minsc, whispering a thank-you as the ranger let her down, breathing a sigh of relief as the pain of her former wounds subsided. "Is Hendak okay too?"

"He's right over here." the cleric motioned for them to come over, all three looking over the still-unconscious man. His skin had finally regained some measure of color, and his chest rose and fell with regularity... but the cloths still wrapped around Hendak's torso were still blood soaked, bearing replacement constantly. "Is he going to be okay?" Aerie asked worriedly.

"Truly, I was not certain for a while... but I think with another few days of my constant attention and spells of healing, he will be okay. As for you, I would hope you take better care of yourself. Your wounds were nothing to trifle with either."

"Do not worry! Minsc will ensure Aerie's safety... the next man who touches my witch will feel the mighty wrath of Minsc and Boo... and evil knows how painful that is. Word is spreading, you know."

"Aerie, do you feel up to traveling?" Yoshimo asked. "Greywulf and Jaheira already left for the Temple District a day ago; if we are to stay on schedule with them, we should be heading out as soon as possible."

"They already left?" Aerie said, trying to hide her surprise. "Oh... I suppose they had to. I think I'm ready... though I'd like to rest a little while longer before we leave. I just... well, I would've liked to talk to Greywulf before he left."

"He told me to tell you he was sorry for before." Minsc said kindly. "He is a very good man... even if he doesn't have a guide like Boo. Jaheira will take care of him; she is a very responsible teacher and has been a good keeper of Greywulf since they met."

"Maybe too good." Aerie muttered just slightly under her breath.

"What was that? Is something wrong?" Yoshimo asked with a frown.

"No... not really." Aerie insisted, though with a rather unconvincing air.

"Do you still hurt from being stabbed?" Minsc said with concern. "If so, I will let you hold Boo. He always makes me feel better when I am wounded in righteous battle."

"No, that's not it." Aerie said with a sigh. "I just... I have a slight problem with Jaheira- you... you won't tell her I said anything, will you?"

"Of course not." Yoshimo said with a laugh. "Believe me, I am an expert at keeping secrets of all kinds."

"Boo promises he will not say a word." Minsc said solemnly.

"Oh...okay then. Well, it's just that, Jaheira, she, well…"

"Has something of a grating personality?" Yoshimo offered.

"To put it lightly, yes." Aerie said, finally finding the opportunity to expressing the irritation pent up within for so long. "She just acts so arrogant and important and annoying all the time, always speaking for Greywulf, always trying to be the leader... why can't she just leave him alone for a while?"

"What does her relationship with Greywulf have to do with anything?" Minsc asked curiously.

The question seemed to take Aerie off guard for a moment, the elf looking down for a moment before frowning and replying, "Well... nothing, I guess... I just wish she would quit being so bossy and treating me like some ignorant child. She lost her husband and I'm sorry, but that doesn't give her the right to treat everyone like dirt because of it."

"I was with her when she found him." Yoshimo remarked. "It was only about a month ago; to say she took it rather hard would be something of an understatement. But I believe she improves."

"I'd hate to have seen her before." she said, still frustrated. "Every time I even try to talk to Greywulf she bites my head off... it's not like she and he are... well..."

"Aerie," Yoshimo said, unable to suppress the look of amusement creeping onto his face, "Are you jealous of Jaheira?"

"What, no! Of course not!" Aerie said abruptly with wide eyes, a defensive tone to her voice. "All I'm asking for is some time to talk to Greywulf more... just to get to know him better. He is our leader, after all."

"You need not be jealous of our druid." Minsc shook his head. "Jaheira and Greywulf have been friends for a long time, longer than even Minsc has known him. The only one who has known Greywulf longer than Jaheira is Imoen. But Jaheira, when they first met, automatically took up the role of teacher and did all she could to help train Greywulf in the art of leadership. Her loyalty was always to Khalid, but Greywulf quickly became her closest friend aside from her husband. They have both lost much in this quest and draw upon each other for help... but I do not think there is any reason for you to be unhappy with their friendship."

Minsc glanced down at Boo for a moment as though listening, then shrugged. "If you say so Boo, but I still don't think they would work together. But if you want to know anything else about Greywulf, just ask! I can tell you all you need to know about him. He is a true hero and would never refuse to help a friend in need: man, woman, or hamster."

"Not just that, Minsc... I know what he is and what he does," Aerie tried to explain, "I'd just like to talk to him about, well... who he really is without all the jokes and the stories..."

"It will come in time." Yoshimo shrugged. "You have his trust; I should think all you need do is ask."

"Yes indeed... though if Imoen were here, she could tell you much more than us." Minsc admitted.

"I see." Aerie said. After a few minutes of silence she asked nervously, "I don't know much about this Imoen... nobody's really told me very much about her. Is she... well, are they-"

"Why do you ask?" Yoshimo said, barely suppressing a laugh. "Never mind. I see by the look on your face I had better stop now. Minsc, perhaps you can enlighten her?"

"Nothing like that, Aerie. Imoen would be like Greywulf's sister, if Minsc had to make a comparison." the ranger said thoughtfully. "They make the same jokes, tell the same stories... and neither one of them was very good at cooking meals."

Aerie sighed and shook her head. "I think I'm ready to get moving... if you want, we can get moving now."

"Indeed. Hendak should be up and about in another day or so, but I doubt he would care if we left now." Yoshimo said, turning to the cleric. "Good priest, here is some more gold to cover Hendak's care. Come Minsc, we shall leave as soon as Aerie gets her things packed. We head to the Docks at once; I know where we can find Renal Bloodscalp and I think we should hurry. He is not exactly a patient man; I did not want to say it while Greywulf was here, but I have a suspicion he called those men down to attack us. If Greywulf knew, he'd have stormed the place by now."

Glancing up at the sudden fire that lit in Minsc's eyes as he finished speaking, Yoshimo's eyes widened as he cursed his slip of the tongue. _I'm leading a berserker ranger who's nursing a grudge to the second in command of the Shadow Thieves, who happens to be the man I just blamed Aerie's injury on; perhaps I might have been a bit hasty in speaking. This... could cause problems._


	23. Part 1: Gainful Employment

The sun was just high enough to send a fierce glare over the tops of the buildings surrounding them, both druid and sorcerer raising one hand to block the shine that flashed in their eyes as they walked together, heading back towards the Fountain of Tymora in the Temple District. They had been gone for most of the day, between traveling to the Slums and back it would only have taken a few hours at most... but the two of them were really in no hurry, taking a rare moment to merely enjoy the company and the brief reprieve from the fighting and danger their lives were so often embroiled in.

Greywulf held a tight smile on his face as the sun finally dipped low enough for Jaheira and him to lower their hands and continue their leisurely pace towards the Fountain. "Now aren't you glad we didn't hurry?" he tsked, glancing over at Jaheira who tried to cover her own smile with a roll of the eyes.

"Truly, this city is not my idea of a place for relaxation. How many hobos and drunks begged us for money on the way to Gaelan Bayle's house and back?"

"There were only four." he replied with a shrug. "You must admit... that last one's story was definitely worth the ten gold we gave him. Rambling on about how he could see the future, where nobody used swords or staffs or magic... what did he call them, 'guns?' "

"Yes," Jaheira smirked, "And nobody would use horses to travel... machines called 'cars.' I have said it on many occasions... the confines of the city will chip away at the sanity of her inhabitants after too long. Still... I must admit to a certain amount of enjoyment through our day. We have not had a chance for some sort of relaxation for far too long."

He returned her a grin, shifting the cloak on his back. "See? Wasn't this much better than sitting at the fountain for eight hours? Not only that, but Gaelan Bayle seemed pleased to see us."

"More pleased at the news we had not joined Bodhi's guild, I should think." she remarked. "He did not know anything of the attack on our lives earlier... do you think he was telling the truth?"

"I would have." Greywulf noted. "Having an angry druid with her spear inches from adding a new breathing vent would be enough to make me talk."

"I would not truly have killed him." Jaheira countered. "A wound or two, but he would have lived."

"You'll probably get an opportunity for more action soon enough." Greywulf said abruptly, the armored figure of Sir Oisig awaiting them at the Fountain coming into view. "Looks like our vacation's over."

"I am glad you have arrived." he said as the figures approached him. "Is there anything you require before you go?"

"Not unless you know anything else about this cult that you have not told us." Jaheira frowned, checking the snugness of the dagger in her belt.

"Not much else, I'm afraid." he admitted. "Many of our younger members have been deceived by this cult; we wish to get them back. We have been able to trace the entrance to the sewers, as I said before; the closest entrance is over in that alleyway. While you were waiting for evening we gave Sir Keldorn the go ahead to begin the investigation. He will be waiting for you near the entrance to the second portion of sewer tunnel; he has also agreed to travel with you if you so desire."

"We will need all the help we can get." Jaheira said to Greywulf.

"I agree. Without Minsc and the others, we'll need this Keldorn's help. Any word on their numbers, their strength?" Greywulf asked, wrapping his gray cloak about him even closer in the night air.

"Not much. We count around fifty members, give or take. Loyal members probably only account for ten or so. If the cult is revealed for what it is and the new converts flee, you should only have those few loyalists to deal with."

"So what it is it you really want us to do when we find the base of this cult?" Jaheira asked.

"Infiltrate the cult, either by force or deception. Find out the truth about this 'Unseeing Eye.' If this new force is indeed valid, come back and report to us, we will decide from there. If it turns out to be false, deal with them accordingly and destroy all you encounter who will not abandon their cause. Report to us when it is finished. This is Helm's will."

"Understood." Greywulf said. "We are ready. Let's go."

Oisig led them to a dark alley and pointed at a grate covering a small, man-sized area of street. Uncovering the hole, Sir Oisig stepped back, bowing once. "Helm's blessing upon your quest. We will await your return with your payment back at the temple."

Greywulf glanced at Jaheira, took a deep breath... the two of them descended together down the newly revealed stairs into the darkness of the sewers. An incessant dripping was some of the only noise as they traveled through the slate gray tunnels, thin trickles of water running through each pipe. Moss, mold and other unknown substances could be seen growing off the sides and walls as they went. Still, their path was fairly straightforward and their trouble was not in finding the way, only in keeping their lunch down as they did.

"I don't suppose you know any druidic spells to make the air smell… and taste better, for that matter?" Greywulf asked with a grimace as they kept moving through the dimly lit tunnels.

"None memorized at the moment." Jaheira said, peering into the darkness. "I'm sure you'll get used to it. How long could we possibly be down here?"

"Do you really want me to answer that?"

"No."

"I didn't think so. Let's keep moving. I think I see something moving over in that tunnel down there." Greywulf said as he pointed at area in a divergent tunnel in the distance.

They crept up further, a little more cautious even as a number of figures made their presence known at the junction they had been heading for. They numbered six, counting an elf, two dwarves and three men.

"Aye, what have we got here, boys?" one of the dwarves said. His beard was a little on the ratty side, undoubtedly from spending so much time in the sewer air. Numerous scars ran over his face, and one eye was clouded, wounded some time earlier and undoubtedly blind in it now. If it cause him any discomfort or loss in confidence, he did not show it as he stepped forward while patting his axe. "Looks like we got two ha'elves, lost in the sewers. If'n ye want, we'll help you out… for a small fee."

"And how much would such help cost us?" Greywulf said, pulling his weapon closer, already having quite the strong hunch where this conversation was turning.

"All the gold you have on you." the elf said with a slightly mocking tone. "I suggest you hurry. There's a reason that dwarf over there is called Tarnor the Hatchetman."

"Aye, I can shave yer beard from thirty paces with these things." the second dwarf growled, drawing one hatchet as he checked the edge on it. "There be a lot of dangerous things down here. I guarantee you'll want our... protection."

"From you?" Jaheira barked a laugh. "Laughable. Perhaps the elf, but not from ground-scum like you. At least the elf could actually hit me from here."

Tarnor's face grew red with fury, the elf smirking even as the dwarf whirled towards his just audible chuckle. "Huh. At least she knows who to be afraid of, dwarf."

"Quiet your tongue or I'll bury a blade in your pansy-arse chest too!" he bellowed, before one of the humans growled, stepping forward. "Both of you shut up! Just kill them and take their money!"

All six turned back to where Jaheira and Greywulf... had been. They were both gone, the only sign they had been there a ripple in the small puddle they were formerly standing in.

The sound of the dwarves cursing as the whole group gave pursuit was a little too close for the pair that was retreating back the way they had come, aiming for the few places the tunnels had branched out further back. Greywulf risked one quick look behind him as they went, then glanced to Jaheira. "Using the elven-dwarf rivalry like that... I'm impressed. A bit underhanded though, don't you think?"

"Not at all... I really didn't think the dwarf could have hit me from there, that's all." she breathed as they finally reached the divergent path they had been seeking. "What do you suggest?"

"We split up." Greywulf said with gritted teeth as a hatchet and arrow struck the tunnel wall a few yards back. "Take different tunnels and meet at the crossroads we just passed through. "Secrecy, no heroics. Pick them off one at a time and we might just survive this."

"Understood." Jaheira confirmed as they prepared to separate. "Take your own advice, all right? No heroics on your side either; I've grown accustomed to your company and the last thing either of us need are more dead friends to mourn."

Greywulf nodded as the two of them rushed off into different paths, just before the six bandits moved into the clearing they had left. There was no sign of the fugitives, but the number of tunnels was low enough they could cover them all without spreading too thin. Tarnor spat and growled, "All right, Hunter and Codburn will take this tunnel, Spardon and Mashkra that one and Gallobchair and I will go this way. If you find them, call the others. They can't escape all of us."

Two of the human men, Spardon and Mashkra, moved down their tunnel, one with sword drawn while the other stood ready to cast spells. They had not made it a hundred feet down the tunnel before the faint sound of footfalls echoed back to them. Spardon frowned, raising his sword high at guard as he motioned for Mashkra to hold back a bit. He moved up further, his palms sweating as he tried to get his bearings in the darkness before him...

A groan was audible enough for both of them to hear, Spardon exhaling heavily with relief. "One of the others must've found them first! Let's go see what's left to split up."

Spardon darted toward the end of the tunnel, disappearing into the darkness as he left Mashkra squinting behind him. "Don't get too far ahead of me, Spardon; we don't know what-"

The sound of Spardon's footsteps in the tunnel abruptly halted, replaced by the sound of a igniting spell. Mashkra narrowed his eyes, already beginning to mouth his own spells of protection- a screech of pure terror rang out from the darkness as Spardon darted towards him, dropping his sword as he ran. "Gotta run! Gotta get out!"

"What? What are you talking about?" Mashkra shouted, beginning to chase him... he felt a hand on his shoulder, the mage turning to see what it was without thinking.

For a brief split second he saw the face of the sorcerer Greywulf... but after that brief moment in time the normal visage of Greywulf disappeared, replaced by a darker shadow, a face of complete and unadulterated horror. Mashkra tried to deny it, tried to tell himself it was a fake... but slowly the vaguely humanlike figure began transforming even further, turning into the things of nightmares... death itself. Mashkra opened his mouth to scream- Greywulf's quarterstaff slammed into the side of his head before hitting him in the throat, dropping the man to the ground without mercy.

Looking up at where the other man had run, Greywulf cursed for letting him getting so far ahead of him and began to give chase.

The elf Hunter and the man Cadburn were stalking through the second of the tunnels quickly, the elf's speed and tracking skills enough to find a trail even in the sludge and wear of the tunnels. A scream sounded through the area, abruptly cut off as it echoed through the tunnels, bouncing off the walls. Both of them whirled around, scanning their surroundings for any incoming threat. "Do you see anything?" Cadburn asked to the elf, whose infravision cut through the darkness easily.

"Nothing. But…" the elf frowned, his sensitive ears almost twitching.

"What is it?"

"I hear something. Something…buzzing. Do you hear it?"

"I do now." Cadburn said, frowning as he pulled his sword to the ready. "What is making that sound?"

"I don't know, but it's getting louder." Hunter said as he readied his bow, looking down the tunnel as the sound grew.

The source slowly made itself visible... Hunter's eyes widened as he began backing away. Before Cadburn could even ask, a horde of insects, arachnids and scorpions began pouring towards the two, chittering and snapping as they swarmed down the tunnel at blinding speed. Both immediately bolted, trying to outrace the Insect Swarm that was rapidly overtaking them, but it was no use for the human. Cadburn screeched as he swung his sword wildly, trying in vain to strike the beasts that were slowly covering him.

The elf Hunter looked back just in time to see Jaheira follow the insects' path, her spear already slashing out to catch Cadburn in the gut as he flailed, taking his life easily with his defenses downed. The elf drew an arrow to his bow and had it up and aimed within one and a half seconds... but it only one second for the rest of the Insect Swarm to reach him. The shock and pain from the biting and scratching was just enough to throw his aim off, sending the arrow flying over Jaheira's left shoulder, the druid ducking in alarm at the near miss. He kept backpedaling, trying to fight through the pain and horror to draw another arrow and fire a second shot, but Jaheira gave him no time. Her hand snapped down to the dagger on her belt, flinging it forward with lightning speed. It whipped through the air before catching in the elf's throat, emitting one gurgle as he collapsed to the ground. Jaheira spared one last look at the creature swarm she had summoned, who were quickly disappearing without a target, then wiped her brow, gathered her dagger and quietly slipped back into the darkness, turning from prey into predator once more.

Tarnor and Gallobchair had also heard the scream and immediately headed back to where they had originally split up, intending to find where the scream had originated from, only to find Spardon rushing into the crossways as well, looking behind him in fear. Tarnor grabbed his tunic as he tried to keep running, pulling the man down to face him. "What's wrong with ye, boy? Snap out of it!"

"A monster!" Spardon managed, still shaking. "Teeth…claws… I think it got Mashkra."

"What are you talking about? We've been in these tunnels a million times, there's no monsters down here!"

"I… I don't know." Spardon said, looking around nervously as he slowly calmed down. "I just... I couldn't do anything but run, I was so afraid-"

"Sounds like a blasted Horror spell to me, Tarnor." Gallobchair growled, hefting his axe. "That mage probably surprised the two of them before they could catch up to him."

"He's probably coming after Spardon if he stopped to kill Mashkra. Let's get ready."

A few precious seconds passed as the threesome hid, finally giving way to the approaching sorcerer, scanning the open clearing wildly as he looked for his prey before the spell's effects wore off. He saw nothing, knowing that the Horror spell was probably almost dissipated, then stepped forward to enter the clearing- he stopped halfway, pulling his foot back, a ripple of movement in the puddle sitting in the midst of the crossroads. Greywulf narrowed his eyes, then glanced up, watching the sewer piping above the puddle. A dozen seconds passed, and after no drips or leaks were apparent, he slowly moved back into the tunnel he had come from. Whispering the incantations to a spell, Greywulf launched a fireball into the small clearing, hearing a number of grunts of pain as the fire swept through the area. His suspicions confirmed, Greywulf moved back into the tunnel, his cloak billowing out behind him as he ran.

Moving out to the entrance to the tunnel Greywulf had been standing in, Tarnor spat as he put out the small flames on his beard. "Blasted mage figured out we were waiting. Let's all move out together. No separating from here on... Spardon, watch our backs for the girl. Oy! HUNTER! CADBURN! We've found them!"

The only response they got was their own voices echoing back, no response coming from the elf and man they were seeking. Spardon, holding the axe Gallobchair had offered him in place of his dropped sword, swallowed and said with more than a hint of nervousness in his voice, "Do you think the woman killed them?"

"I don't know..." Gallobchair growled as he waved them on. "We'll find them later... let's just get moving before the sorcerer gets too far ahead."

The three moved down the tunnel, following the trail of rippling pools and echoing footsteps, slowly but surely gaining on him; maybe because of simple luck or tiredness on Greywulf's part. More than once they caught the very tail end of a flap of a cloak in front of them before it turned a corner, the sight of their prey spurring them on faster and faster... they turned a bend that led into another divergent area. Lying in the midst of the area was a quarterstaff, though no sign of its owner was present. Motioning for the others to back him up, Tarnor crept up to the staff, glancing around as he slipped a hatchet from his belt, holding it in his throwing hand with it upraised and ready as he circled it once, slowly bent over to pick it up... as his hand grabbed the weapon, it suddenly shot into the air, swooping down a tunnel as the dwarf yelped in surprise, as he was pulled along with the staff he would not release.

Spardon stepped forward to give chase, glancing back at Gallobchair with a frown as he noticed the other dwarf was not following. "Dwarf! Come on, we have to… oh no... no!"

He stepped backward in horror as he saw the dwarf slumped over, the tip of a spear sticking out from the dead bandit's chest. The spear was swiftly withdrawn, Jaheira stepping out into the light from the darkness of the tunnel behind the dead dwarf... a look of cold mercilessness was in her eyes as she eyed Spardon. He turned to run after Tarnor... halting again as he saw Greywulf step out from that tunnel, his quarterstaff once more in hand, though the end of his staff was stained with a splatter of blood.

His head whirled, looking for any possible escape... he found one tunnel that was unoccupied, screaming as he darted away from the two adventurers. His screams were suddenly cut off, the sounds being replaced by a bone-crunching thud instead. Looking at Greywulf questioningly, Jaheira and Greywulf mutually agreed not to press their luck and instead left, leaving whatever monster had found Spardon to its meal.

"That was unpleasant." Greywulf remarked as he wiped his staff off.

"At least we both survived; can't say the same for them." Jaheira answered.

"True enough. Let's take a small break though. I'm slightly winded; that was a pretty tough dwarf, even after getting dragged down a tunnel a good 30 feet. Who knew a simple Fetch cantrip could be so useful. Looks like those bandits had been doing rather well, judging by the money they had on them... though I wonder how much banditry business you get in the sewer. Do people come down here often?"

"How often do we end up in the sewer for various reasons?" she countered. "Even so, the gold will be put to better use. But I suppose if you wish to rest, we could do so."

"You know, I promised myself after trudging in the sewers of Baldur's Gate that I'd never do it again… and here we are, twice in a little more than a week." he sighed as they checked for someplace to rest. "What makes evil villains put their bases in the sewers? Do they just enjoy the smell, the scenery, or what? It must be terrible for when company comes over."

"I think that meddlers like us would be considered the 'company'… precisely the point." Jaheira remarked. "The smell in this one is not as bad as in Baldur's Gate though. Easier for a large cult to abide."

"I assume one gets used to it. Kind of like a fungus… it grows on you after a while."

"Thank you for that lovely mental image." Jaheira said dryly, the two of them sitting down together in a relatively clean area.

After a few minutes, the silence broken only by their breathing and the dripping of water coming from the rusty pipes above them, Jaheira turned to Greywulf and said somewhat reluctantly, "I… Greywulf, this may be a bad time or not... certainly not the best location; you asked a question of me before and I brushed it aside. You were kind enough not to press when you saw my hesitation... but I would speak of it now if you still wish to hear."

"You know I have nothing but trust for you, Jaheira... there is no reason for you to tell me things you don't feel comfortable with." Greywulf reasoned. "I'm no interrogator and I know you are wiser than I; if you don't feel like I should hear it, I probably shouldn't."

"Maybe I did feel that way," Jaheira admitted, "But I… well, it is not important enough to keep aside. I would rather such things be talked of openly, truthfully. I know much of you... but aside from my relationship with Gorion you know little of me."

After a brief silence Jaheira continued, "You asked me what made me seek the Harpers or similar service, as I recall. I was made aware of what had come before, what still happened outside of the forest."

"Which was?"

"I came to the druids after my family died during a king's fall. No, I am not royalty and neither do I grieve. I do not feel their loss in that way... not for many years now, anyway."

"I was angry... angry that a life had been taken from me, even though I still live. It had happened far from the grove, many years prior... but I see now that it influenced my training, my attitude... everything about those years was shadowed by the death of my family from before. The grove tried to purge me of such feelings of vengeance and give me peace, freedom from inner and outer conflict... but I brought the conflict there in my manner. They merely allowed me an avenue to deal with the anger and vengeance... in truth, probably keeping me from taking on a path of pure revenge and murder for the sake of my own selfishness. I owe much to them, even if I never fully reached the level they desired for me."

"We all have darkness inside us, Jaheira... I know this better than most." Greywulf said softly with a wry smile. "What is it they say? 'When you stare long into the Abyss, it stares back into you'?"

"Aye... it does, though by the grace of the gods I seem to have been spared the darker of the paths I might have taken; a Shadow Druid or worse." Jaheira nodded. "Still, the peace of the other druids at the grove was not for me... I decided that the balance needed help beyond the forest, or it would eventually fail there as well. Simple reasoning, I suppose."

Jaheira stopped for a moment, before turning to face Greywulf. "I…I don't know why I didn't wish this known. Maybe I though that such a history was unimportant by the standards of others such as.. well… yourself."

Greywulf shook his head and replied, "I would not say that at all, Jaheira... it is your experience and you have done much with it; I am glad to know it, in truth. I see nothing trite in the events that have shaped your entire life... nothing at all."

Jaheira closed her eyes and smiled, "I do thank you for those words... I find myself drawing strength from you in our close quarters. It has been a great help to me, especially in light of such recent events. I…"

Jaheira stopped for a moment, as though catching herself from saying something she did not intend to. She coughed once, abruptly standing to her feet "I…I am sorry. We should continue on; we have spent more than enough time talking. This Keldorn is undoubtedly wondering what delays us."

Greywulf nodded and accepted her help in rising to his feet once more; the two friends moved westward into the darkness, their mission spurring them on.

X X X X X X X

"Hurry up, my friends... it would not do to keep Renal Bloodscalp waiting too much longer than we already have." Yoshimo said as they ran off towards the entrance of the Docks district, entering through a large archway into the salty air of the seaside part of the city.

"Where are we headed?" Aerie asked breathlessly as the group made their way through the streets, hurrying past any and all people in their way.

"The headquarters of the Shadow Thieves here in the city. Renal Bloodscalp will be there, and I am sure he is waiting for us as well."

"A pit of corruption and evil!" Minsc bellowed, stopping to unsheathe his sword. "Minsc and Boo will cleanse this pool of-"

"I don't think that would be the smartest plan, Minsc." Yoshimo said, stopping the yells of the ranger. "If we want the Shadow Thieves' help to rescue Imoen, we should probably try not to kill them all."

"I suppose, but I do not like this." Minsc said reluctantly. "Boo expresses his disapproval as well."

"Yes yes, I'm sure." Yoshimo said as he scanned the buildings before him. "There... that's the one."

The other two turned to look at the building Yoshimo had pointed out, a large yet unimpressive building with all the windows covered or blocked, the building's paint and outside in semi-disarray.

"Are you sure?" Aerie asked with a frown.

"Yes. The outside is but a cover, belaying the power inside. Let us go quickly."

As they approached, a man standing outside the entrance stopped them and after taking a quick look at the three of them, he relented, "Ah, you must be the thief Yoshimo I was told to expect. And you others are friends of Gaelan Bayle, right? You can go on in."

As they entered, the splendor of the inside took Minsc and Aerie by surprise for a second. Shadow Thieves, decked out in their standard armor and cloaks were all about the room, with large tables with obviously stolen merchandise adorning the table. Walking past the groups of sellers, dispensing of their stolen wares, they went through a small out of the way back door, revealing a smaller room stacked with a number of crates. A staircase led up to a different level of the building, which the three friends quickly traveled to and ascended.

Finding themselves on a new level, revealing more crates and merchandise, they came down a long hall to a large room, adorned with a few maps of Athkatla and Amn on the wall, and a number of sketches and blueprints on a circular table, more than likely plans to a number of houses and government buildings. At the table were four men, three dressed like normal Shadow Thieves, the other without a cloak, but adorned with one long sword and one dirk for his off hand. They were strapped to either hip, and a suit of black leather armor with obviously magical properties covered his torso and chest.. He had a long scar running across his face, and though his expression seemed friendly enough, it was apparent there was much more to the man than what showed. As Yoshimo and the two others approached, the man in black leather looked up, and a smile blossomed across his face as he did.

"Why look who's come to see me at long last! Yoshimo, dear boy, I thought the streets had opened and swallowed you whole-"

Minsc stepped forward before Yoshimo or Bloodscalp could react, the ranger picking up the Shadow Thief by the neck and lifting him into the air with a menacing glare. "You were the one who nearly killed my witch. Minsc owes you a good thumping."

A dozen blades were drawn and immediately put at Minsc's body as the thief flailed in Minsc's grasp, both Yoshimo and Aerie frozen in horror.

"Minsc... I beg you... put the man down." Yoshimo pleaded. "Killing him would be very, very unwise."

"You're... _ack_... talking about the... messengers I sent." Renal managed, trying to pull at the ranger's grip. "An... _gasp_... understandable mistake."

Minsc kept Renal in the air for a few seconds more, finally glanced around as though just noticing the swords ready to kill him should he proceed further, then finally set the Shadow Thief down with a rather inglorious thud. "Explain."

"Yes, well." Renal pulled himself up with a cough, affixing his roguish smile back on his face even as he rubbed his throat. "The men you killed were never ordered to attack; they were sent to find you and deliver a message; a job offer for your group, to be honest. When they could not find you at the Coronet, they must have assumed Yoshimo was trying to flee from me with your group, and took matters into their own hands. They paid for their mistake, as you ensured."

He gestured to the surrounding bodyguards, the loyal thieves finally putting their swords away. "Quite the streak of loyalty that runs in you, ranger." Renal noted with a nod. "Should you ever tire of the adventuring world and require work, I would be more than pleased to hire you as my own bodyguard."

"Minsc fights for heroism and goodness, not for countries or sneaky thieves." he growled, finally stepping back beside Aerie.

"Indeed... though I am quite at your service, sire." Yoshimo interrupted, stepping up. "It is a pleasure to see you... always good to be remembered by one's peers."

"Well now, that would imply that you were one of my peers, as opposed to a rag-tag independent infringing on our territory. You are just too much, Yoshi." Renal chuckled, gesturing for the Shadow Thieves around him to return to their work previous to the altercation with Minsc.

"Er… yes, sir." Yoshimo answered with a hint of nervousness. "And please, sir, it's Yoshimo. In Kara-Tur, pet names such as Yoshi are only used in relationships such as… well, let's just say that you and I have not gotten quite so acquainted, yes?"

"Point taken." Renal smiled. "But you have come as I desired, in the end. I much desired to speak with your companions as well... although I see two are missing. Greywulf and Jaheira, I think. Still, if the demonstration from earlier was any indication, you two will both suffice wonderfully."

"Please sir, I hope you are not intending anything of ill intent to befall them. It would besmirch my honor eternally if they were to come to harm because of me." Yoshimo asked.

"Of course not. As I said before, I know your particular group is quite short of funds to pay us for the aid in rescuing this 'Imoen'. I have a job I need done, one which I would pay handsomely for. And, Yoshimo," Renal paused for a minute to look at Yoshimo, "Doing this will clear the matter of your freelance activities."

"We do the bidding of thieves now?" Minsc whispered to Aerie. "Eh… this can't be good. My stomach churns like the spinning of the hamster wheel."

"You are too good to me, sire." Yoshimo said with a partially forced smile. "What exactly is the manner of the job you have for us?"

"Yes, the details. How shall I put this? One of my guildhouses to the south is run by a rather ambitious fellow named Mae'var. Good thief, but I never liked him. Now I know why."

Walking around the table to face Yoshimo directly, he said, "I've had some hints that he is getting too big for himself. Thinking of taking my place, I suspect, but I've had no real evidence to say that this is so. Now, you're likely thinking: why not just eliminate him? Yes, yes, I suppose I could. But without proof of betrayal, this would anger the other guildmasters and then I'd have a war on my hands and, well, just let it lie that I don't want that."

"You have dozens of thieves and assassins at your disposal. Why do you need us?" Aerie asked with a frown.

"I know!" Minsc boomed. "You have no people to spare while fighting the tricky vampires, right?"

"Perhaps," Renal admitted with a forced smile of his own, "But more importantly, my own men would be spotted right away. I need a group with no ties to the Shadow Thieves and specifically, me. Gaelan recommended you and your group... I trust his word. You will perform more than adequately, I am sure."

Minsc glanced at Yoshimo as though to assure himself they really were doing this, before stiffening and glaring down at Renal. "Minsc does not trust you. You had better provide what you promise, or Boo will have his mighty hamster vengeance!"

Renal looked at the squeaking hamster with a curious eye but quickly replied, "Minsc, I assure you that I am a man of my word. Your hamster need fear no betrayal on my part. Here are some transfer papers that will clear you through the front of the guild. Just show them to the barkeep. His name is Gorch, and he is working for me."

"So what exactly do you want us to do once we get in?" Yoshimo asked, taking the offered papers.

"Mae'var will likely have a number of tasks for you to perform for him before he will trust you. Do those for him and once you have gained his trust, find evidence of Mae'var's treachery. Report back to me once you have found the evidence I need."

"As you wish, sire." Yoshimo said with a bow, the group leaving Renal Bloodscalp's presence, leaving the Shadow Thieves' headquarters entirely.

Renal sighed once and motioned for a number of figures in the shadows to come out, three men hiding during the whole meeting with the adventurers. "Interesting indeed... I see now why you fled the ranger's assault."

"Thought he was goin' to kill you for a moment there, Bloodscalp." one of the assassins noted, the group consisting of those who had survived the failed assassination attempts on the party.

"Would you have cared for that?" Renal challenged, the man quickly shaking his head no. "You needn't look so worried, all of you. I have no intentions of turning you over to them as some sort of good-will offering, if that's what you fear. We take enough losses to the other guild these days... and aside from that, I'm sure you'd find a way of mentioning the real orders I gave you before he killed you."

"Why'd you send us to kill them if you wanted their help, anyway?" the second of the assassins queried.

"Honestly?" Renal chuckled. "If they couldn't survive an attempt on their lives like that, they'd have been of no use to us. And it did bring them here, didn't it?"

X X X X X X X

"Seeing as you're the one with the experience in this area, I think you should lead this." Aerie remarked to Yoshimo. "What do you think we should do from here?"

"Exactly what Renal suggested." Yoshimo said with a grin. "I happen to know the guildhouse he says Mae'var is in; if these papers are as good as Renal said they were, we should be able to get in with no problem."

"And if they're not?" Aerie asked.

"Er... we'll just hope they're good." Yoshimo shrugged. "Trust me on this... we'll be fine. The thieving profession is not so complicated once you get into it."

"If you say so... are you sure we can do this? I mean, we're short Greywulf and Jaheira, and-"

"Nonsense, Aerie!" Minsc cried. "Even without friends Greywulf and Jaheira, we will vanquish all who stand before Minsc and Boo! Let us go to this Mae'var now!"

As Minsc began marching off, Yoshimo sighed and pointed, "Minsc… this way."

Minsc did an about face and hurriedly followed Yoshimo as he lead the two of them further into the depths of the Docks, their quest clear before them.


	24. Part 1: All The Help You Can Get

Greywulf sighed as he looked around in part frustration, part weariness. The two of them had made good time after their altercation with the bandits in the sewer tunnels, but another hundred yards down the path they had encountered a section of collapsed tunnel, blocking any further progress. They had been searching for a way to get past the blockade before them for hours, but with no luck. The boulders were too large too move by hand, so they had searched different tunnels for new paths, but this seemed to be the only tunnel still heading west according to Oisig's direction.

"What now?" Greywulf asked Jaheira as he leaned up against a wall, frustration at their situation leaking into his voice.

"I don't know." she said, equally irritated. "If we had Minsc here he could probably bash through... as it is, we don't have much of an option except to find another way around."

"There isn't another way and you know it!" Greywulf snapped. "We've been searching for two hours and we've found nothing."

"Don't take that tone with me, Greywulf!" she snapped back. "You're a good friend but I won't hesitate to smack some sense into you if the occasion arises."

Greywulf stepped up as though to take her up on the challenge, but he sighed in a moment and backed down. "Sorry... I'm just frustrated, that's all. But sitting here isn't going to get us through."

"True enough." she admitted. "Perhaps we could make our own path?"

"What do you mean?" he asked.

"Well, if we cannot blast our way through the rubble itself, maybe we can use the sewer to our advantage."

"How so?" Greywulf said as he walked over to where she was standing.

"Well, you can still see a little above where the rocks are. That small space should give you enough room to send a spell through there, correct?"

"I don't like where this is going..." he said cautiously.

"Perhaps if you can collapse the tunnel even further, knock down even more rock and ceiling, you can bring a flood in." she said, ignoring the surprise on his face. "If I am correct, we should be under where part of the river flows through the border of the Temple District. If you can let the water in, it could sweep away some of the rocks, freeing a path for us to go through."

"Yes, it could do that." Greywulf said incredulously. "It could also bring the whole roof down on our heads or send too much of the water flooding in, drowning us before we could even think about running."

"Do you have a better idea?" Jaheira challenged.

Greywulf was silent for a second before sighing reluctantly, "No, I suppose not. But hold on to something, will you? I'd hate to lose you after all we've been through; fighting Sarevok's minions, escaping a mad wizard's dungeon and fighting off hordes of monsters and thieves only to get drowned in a sewer."

"I would hate to lose you as well." she said grimly, strapping her spear to her back tightly. "Be careful."

Greywulf nodded and after a few seconds of examining the roof of the tunnel, he began his incantations. Soon, a orb of energy began forming in Greywulf's palm, growing in size and flashing with coruscating color. As it grew larger, Greywulf was visibly struggling to maintain the energy; with one final gasp he let go, sending the magic hurtling through the air. The Chromatic Orb struck just above the rock pile, impacting the ceiling of the tunnel and shaking the whole area.

At first, there was no discernible change. Within seconds small cracks started forming in the ceiling, spider webbing across the rock as water began dripping from them. Greywulf and Jaheira both began stepping back, trying to put some distance between them and the blockade... but they were too late. Before they could take more than a few steps a large chunk of roof fell, releasing the waters. The water rushed in with a roar, knocking increasingly bigger chunks of rock off the pile down the tunnel towards the two friends retreating. As the floodwaters surged forth, they quickly overtook Greywulf and Jaheira, knocking them both to the ground and sweeping them through the various tunnels.

As Jaheira struggled to keep above water, she glanced over to see Greywulf facedown in the water, blood seeping from a wound on his head. Panic threatened to overwhelm her, but she quickly regained control and swam over to him. Turning him over even as they swept down the tunnels, she struggled to keep both of them alive, just before the waters brought them to a dead end. Turning to face the impediment to the water, she just barely saw the wall rushing up to meet them both, then blackness.

X X X X X X X

"So, what can I do for ye?" Gorch asked, wiping the countertop off as he eyed the three newcomers in the bar. "A drink perhaps, for the lady?"

"N-no, thank you." Aerie said, looking at Yoshimo, who was examining the barroom.

"Actually, we are not here for such entertainments." Yoshimo said as he finished looking about the room. "We are here to see Mae'var. I believe you require a few papers from us?"

Gorch nodded as he took the papers from Yoshimo. After looking them over, he smiled and said, "All right, all's fine. Go on through he back door and then down into the cellar. You'll find Mae'var there. And by the way..." he leaned over and lowered his tone as he continued. "I'd be especially careful if I were you. If you're on the mission for the Bloodscalp he told me about, you'll want to be watching yourself. If you act like anything other than a loyal guild member, Mae'var will kill you for sure. He's been torturing some poor fellow named Lin just for taking to long to respond to a question he had asked him... be careful, and good luck."

Yoshimo nodded; as they approached the back door, Yoshimo turned to the other two and said, "Remember: loyal guild members. None of us can slip up or Mae'var will surely kill us. Aerie? Minsc..."

Minsc nodded with a grin, Yoshimo exhaling and whispering a quick prayer for the ranger's self-control as he brought the two of them along through the back entrance. It opened into an area similar to the one in the Shadow Thieves' base, though less elaborate. In place of all the black market sellers was a number of locks, dummies and other training equipment meant to help thieves improve their skill. Several such pieces of training equipment were scattered around the room, as was a stair heading up to a second level of the building and a cellar door leading to the basement. Several Shadow Thieves were about, practicing upon the dummies and picking the locks, barely noticing the three new arrivals.

The adventurers slipped through the crowd and went to the lower entrance. After moving down the stairs, they went through a long darkened hallway with two large cells on either side. In one was naught but a few rotting skeletons chained to the wall, while the other had a lone old man in it, miserable and despondent. Minsc looked at the imprisoned one, his fist clenching tight with righteous indignation. "A den of stinky evil! This will not go unpunished, Boo!"

Yoshimo motioned for Minsc to shush and to continue on, which they did until they reached a wider area, a torture chamber by the looks of the implements on the tables and the racks upon the walls. A man in a bodysuit of studded leather and cloak, providing maximum protection, stood with an air of arrogance and malevolence was awaiting them. He was sitting beside a table with a shorter man stretched out upon it. The man was unconscious, but it was clear he had been tortured long before he lost consciousness. The man sitting next to the unconscious man was setting down a long, pointed spike splattered with blood, the blood sizzling from the intense heat on the spike. He turned to the new arrivals and said in a dark voice, "Ah, I see Lin has collapsed. Too bad. I suppose I have some time to talk to you, then. Who are you and why shouldn't I put you on the rack just like Lin here?"

"We have been sent by the Shadowmasters to reinforce your position here. Do not threaten us." Yoshimo said, putting up a tough front.

"Ha. You show strength… and impudence, as well. That kind of attitude will either get you far in this organization or it will end you up like Lin. Perhaps we should see how long you will all last, hmm?"

Mae'var stood up and moved towards the group with his four lackeys, sending a look of fear across all their faces, though Minsc's eyes only narrowed, standing stone-faced as Mae'var approached the ranger, standing toe-to-toe with the mammoth warrior. The two of them locked gazes for a moment, neither blinking or speaking. Yoshimo and Aerie both held their breath, glancing around and trying to figure the quickest escape if things went badly...

Mae'var abruptly barked a laugh, his lackeys backing away as the two other adventurers breathed a sigh of relief. Mae'var sneered crookedly at Minsc, "Interesting indeed. I usually live by the philosophy that fear keeps you honest... though you, big man, show none of me. A spine like yours could be dangerous... I will have to watch myself while you're around."

"As for the rest of you," Mae'var turned away from them and sat back down by Lin's body, "Do not make me test your honesty personally. Keep this one in line if you all know what's good for you. Since I really don't have the time to check your papers, I suppose I should just set you off on some menial task to occupy you. Hmm… I've got it. The Weathermistress of the Temple of Talos has a pendant she wears that I fancy. It will fetch a hefty price; go and retrieve it from her. You needn't even kill her, if murder makes you squeamish. The pendant must weigh at least ten pounds and she wouldn't wear it to bed. You could steal it from her when she sleeps... but to tell the truth, I really don't care. I'd just as soon sell it as give it to my dog to wear. Now go, and don't return until you bring me what I seek."

Yoshimo bowed and left the room, Aerie and Minsc following. They shuffled quietly out of Mae'var's guild hall, Yoshimo glancing behind them even as they exited, as though making sure nobody was still listening. As soon as they were out of sight of the building, Aerie sighed, stopping where they were. "That was close... I was sure he knew who we were."

"I get the feeling he's more paranoid than suspicious... though we must not let our guard down. Our faces could be very familiar around this city by now... Minsc for one is not an easy person to forget." Yoshimo advised. "Stealth will be more important than ever... if Mae'var discovers who we are before we have a chance to find the evidence Renal needs he will not hesitate to execute us."

"Perhaps disguises?" Aerie queried. "Just as a precaution."

"Not a bad idea." Yoshimo admitted. "It would have been better had we thought of this before meeting Mae'var... still, perhaps we can change our appearance minutely.. enough to make a sideways glance a little harder to identify us."

"Sounds okay to me." Aerie nodded. "Minsc?"

"Minsc dislikes all this sneaking and subtlety." the ranger growled. "These men deserve the boot of justice more than any other!"

"Yes, I know." Yoshimo said, trying to calm Minsc. "But if I know Renal Bloodscalp, more than likely he will sic us on Mae'var once we have found proof of his treachery. You'll get your chance, my large friend... a fine job in restraint before. Just wait for the opportune time, that's all."

"So, what now? Won't it bring the anger of the gods down upon us if we steal from Talos' temple?" Aerie asked hesitantly.

"Perhaps, but only Talos. I doubt a few disguises will fool the eye of the Stormlord, but even so, I'm sure that the Shadow Thieves will take most of the blame." Yoshimo said with a grin, spotting a few men walking by the pier, their clothes looking like fairly good fits for their own builds...

Just as he spoke, a crack of lightning echoed through the sky, bringing rain in its wake. Looking up, Yoshimo frowned, saying, "Hmm. Perhaps the Stormlord might not be so complacent. But I fear we have no other choice. Hopefully he will be semi-forgiving. Let us gather our new disguises and be off."

X X X X X X X

The sound of water trickling through small cracks and crevices in the tunnel floor was just barely audible enough for her hearing to pick up as Jaheira slowly stirred, consciousness finally returning to her battered frame. Despite the screams of protest that her muscles inflicted upon her as she tried to stand, she finally managed to drag herself to her feet, stifling the cry of pain she so desperately wanted to release; a needle of pain shooting through her knee as she put her full weight on it. Leaning up against the tunnel wall, she wiped the excess water dripping from her face, blinking her green eyes as she tried to get her bearings.

The flooding had apparently subsided, the sheer volume of the tunnels enough to drain the majority of water that had washed through and pump it back out into the nearby ocean beside Athkatla. There was now little more than three or four inches on the ground, collected in small puddles and trickling mini-streams along the sewer lines. She exhaled in exhaustion, wiping the wet braids of hair from her vision... she felt a sticky wetness at her scalp as her hand brushed the top of her head. She hoped it was water as she touched her scalp again and checked her fingertips, but the red color confirmed it as her own blood.

It was as though the sight of the blood brought all the fatigue and exhaustion her body was holding rushing back to her, hitting her like a brick as she fought the urge to collapse again. Trying to steady her trembling hands as she renewed her support against the side of the tunnel, she managed a small spell of healing, just enough to put some feeling back in her legs and arms. Her last memories of their rush through the tunnels flooded back to her, and her eyes quickly darted back and forth, looking for some sign of Greywulf... he was lying several feet beyond her beside the tunnel wall, still unconscious and showing no signs of life. She pushed herself over to him, stumbling to his side as fast as she could, kneeling as she checked his vital signs, looking for anything to give her hope about his life. She began pumping his chest, but nothing happened.

"Greywulf… please, not this time. Not again… it cannot be happening again…" Jaheira whispered as she continued to try and revive her fallen friend, visions of Khalid's dead body drifting into her mind's eye-

Greywulf's chest heaved with an explosion of coughing, water flying from Greywulf's lungs and mouth.

Jaheira smiled weakly and whispered a quick prayer of thanks, then slowly helped him to sit up, checking his head wound as she did.

"J…Jaheira?" he muttered, his blurry vision finally focusing on the woman beside him.

"Yes, it is me." she said as she sat back. "It appears we have both survived our latest misadventure."

"The way I feel right now, I almost wish I hadn't." he groaned. "I was going to say that if heaven is a sewer, send me back."

Jaheira helped Greywulf to his feet with a sigh, "I see your insufferable wit has not been damaged. Your head wound doesn't seem as bad as I initially feared, thankfully."

"My head?" Greywulf queried with a frown. "All I remember is getting swept away when those waters came crashing in. I was trying to stay afloat... I remember seeing a bunch of rocks go flying by me, then a sharp pain in my head; nothing after that. I must have gotten hit by one of the loose rocks."

"Obviously. If it's any consolation, the passage should have been opened up. Let us check."

They traveled back to where the water had initially come in, the initial flood shortened to a mere drizzle already. The blockade that had impeded their progress was still there, but enough had been washed away so as to permit access. Helping Greywulf fit through the small opening, Jaheira followed after, the two dropping down into a narrow tunnel heading west, decidedly drier than the one they had just left. The path was not long, quickly reaching an intersection, scarred with distinct signs and markings. Three passages left in the relative western direction, though they diverged quickly, within sight of the main intersection.

Glancing at the signs posted on the tunnels, Greywulf frowned, glancing at Jaheira even as he wrung out the sleeve of his robe, squeezing the water from it. "This looks like the place we were supposed to meet this Keldorn... I see no sign of him. Perhaps he got impatient and went ahead without us?"

"A few hours delay should not have troubled a paladin of the Order so quickly..." Jaheira mused as she studied the area, specifically the paths leading down each passage. "Though I would take the middle path, if we must make a choice on our own. It is the most worn and shows signs of recent use. In fact, I would guess someone came this way less than a day ago. It also looks like…"

Jaheira paused for a moment, then frowned. "After someone came this way, a large group of people came as well... but the footprints are wrong. Human…but not quite. Disfigured, deformed... and they came from... back there."

Jaheira glanced back toward the passage they had just come from, Greywulf meeting her eyes, a hint of worry in them. "They... they came in with the water. At least four dozen of them. Come, let us go; if we hurry we may yet overtake whoever is in front of us."

The two of them hurried down the tunnel passageways, stopping infrequently and listening for any sound besides dripping water. Finally, way off in the distance... the sound of moans and shuffling feet, punctuated by the faint singing of steel through the air and cutting through flesh. A shout of battle echoed back to them, Jaheira and Greywulf both immediately vaulting forward at a dead run, preparing their weapons for battle.

A violent sight greeted them at the end of their race; decaying limbs and corpses were littered across the area. Still, these were not lifeless, but formerly reanimated zombies, only recently dispatched. They were no ordinary zombies either; seaweed and barnacles covered their rotting flesh while water pulsed from their parts, these sea zombies undoubtedly the creatures which had poured in with the river flood. In the midst of the remaining twenty zombies stood an older man, looking to be in his late fifties to early sixties, a gray streak blossoming across his naturally brown hair and beard. He was dressed in heavy plate armor and was wielding a large two handed sword with numerous engravings and personalized marks upon the blade and hilt. He held his weapon with obvious skill and experience, but the weariness in his frame was apparent; this battle was shaping up to be more than he might possibly be able to handle on his own.

The zombies could sense their prey's weakness and continued groaning and clawing at his form, only staying just out of his range while they waited for their opportunity. One creature ventured too close before retreating and paid the price; the man swung his blade hard left, cutting the zombie through the middle and dispatching it.

"Hail!" he shouted, spotting the two new arrivals. "If you have aid to lend, I would gladly partake of it!"

Greywulf and Jaheira took no time to answer but immediately moved into action. Jaheira swung the shaft of her spear from behind, knocking three sea zombies forward into the paladin's sweeping blade. Greywulf hung back as he muttered his incantations, letting bursts of Magic Missiles tear through the bodies of the undead, dropping them where they stood. The two new threats were more than enough to turn the tide of the battle; the undead began retreating, none escaping before being slain by the three warriors. The paladin watched the last zombie fall, then breathed deeply as he turned to Jaheira and Greywulf with a bow.

"You have my thanks. Unless I am mistaken, you are the pair I was directed to meet. I am Keldorn Firecam, paladin of the Most Noble Order of the Radiant Heart and servant of Torm." he said, sheathing his blade.

"No thanks necessary... it's just nice to see a friendly face down here." Greywulf said with a tight smile, shaking his hand. "Pleased to meet you, sir Keldorn. And yes... I am Greywulf, this is Jaheira. As you say, we were sent by the Church of Helm to investigate the cult down here. We were told you were willing to aid us in this matter."

"Aye, that is so. I had been waiting for you to arrive for some time when I heard the tunnel behind me collapse. Whether it was the shock of the collapse or something else, it seemed to attract a number of sewer creatures and I was forced to move up, hoping to find a more defensible position. I heard another explosion sound in the tunnel a few hours later, and I had hoped it was you."

"That was us, true enough... though as you can see by the state of our clothing, it wasn't the most inspired of ideas." Greywulf said with a sideways glance at Jaheira, gesturing to their soaked clothing.

"Indeed." he said with a wry smile. "The zombies came through the hole you made when I came back to see what had happened; they took me by surprise and pushed me all the way back to this point where I made a stand; continuing further back might have made the trail unknowable."

"Sorry about that. Still, now that we're all here and in relatively one piece, we should probably get moving. Are you going to travel with us, or just lead us in the right direction?"

"Whichever you prefer." Keldorn shifted the weight of his armor. "I have been told to join with you if you desire and indeed I would, but if you do not require my aid in battle, I will lead you in the right direction before returning to the Order Hall. What say you? My blade shall be at your service so long as your cause is righteous."

"We would be glad to have your aid, Sir Keldorn. I have a feeling we will need it before long in this place."

"Then I am at your command. And please, it is just Keldorn."

"Very well. Before we continue on, perhaps we should take a quick breather. I know I'm a little sore from our little swimming adventure, and you look like you could use a rest too."

"A rest would be welcome right now, true enough." Keldorn admitted. "I will not take too long."

Greywulf and Jaheira sat together opposite Keldorn in the tunnel, letting some measure of energy slowly seep back into their bodies after their trials and battles. Keldorn let his head drop over his chest as they sat, inhaling and exhaling deeply to regain his wind. "Something wrong?" Jaheira frowned, watching him.

"No... nothing, really." Keldorn smiled faintly, looking up at the two of them. "Reflecting on the last battle... I am truly grateful for your assistance and I mean no offense... but I should not have needed it."

"None taken." Greywulf offered. "Even a weak monster can be rough when there's fifty or so."

"Perhaps... I should not let my own hubris cloud the issue, truly. Think nothing of what I said before." he said with a shrug.

"Your blade is magical, correct?" Greywulf said as he peered at the sword Keldorn had sheathed, changing the subject.

"Indeed. Though a little more than you might suspect." Keldorn replied with a weary smile.

"Those symbols on the hilt, they are the symbol of Torm, correct?" Jaheira pointed out.

"Aye, they are indeed. I have been a paladin for thirty years this month, and this was a gift to me from the very god I serve, Torm himself. After twenty years serving him, I was put into a situation where I was forced to defend a temple of his against thirty orcs. More came after those thirty, and another score came after them. But in Torm's name I fought on and would not let his temple be desecrated. After the battle, Torm appeared to me in a vision and gave this blade as a reward for my service. Its power cuts deep and quick... no other blade have I wielded since receiving it."

"Thirty years of service is indeed a long time, Keldorn." Jaheira noted.

"Yes, though I imagine your role as druid has been with you nearly as long."

"I am not quite as old as you might think…" she said with a slight frown. "How did you know of me?"

"The Temple of Helm told me all about both of you, as well as the rest of your party. Minsc, Aerie and Yoshimo are not here, I note."

"They've got another errand to run at the moment." Greywulf affirmed. "I'd be interested to know just how much of us they told you."

"Enough to know that you are a force of righteousness for the most part... enough that I feel I can trust you." Keldorn's gaze turned to meet Greywulf's; a strength of presence and character seemed to grow within the paladin's gaze as the two locked eyes. "Unlike many you will find on your journeys, I judge by your actions, not your heritage."

"What do you imply, Keldorn?" Greywulf said cautiously.

"I merely put out that I know of your lineage and while I am still wary as most would be... I feel that you will do good. That is all." he replied calmly.

"So… you know what I am then."

"Yes. Again, I am slightly cautious, but I do not think you are a slave to your parentage."

"I never would have imagined hearing such words from a paladin. I thank you for your faith in me; many think otherwise." Greywulf said, nodding in gratitude to him.

"In my experience, actions judge a man's character, not how or who they were born to. Trust has been granted to you. I pray you will not abuse it."

With that, Keldorn stood up, stretching one arm briefly. "I am feeling better. Shall we continue?"

The group of three hurriedly moved down the tunnel, making their way through winding tunnels and pipes as they followed Keldorn, who seemed to know exactly where they were headed. Finally, after another hour or so of moving, they reached an open area where the tunnels diverged two ways.

"This is the length of my investigations." Keldorn said grimly. "The tunnel to the left leads to the cult, I know this for certain. The other one leads to an abandoned section of the sewer... I could find no plans or word on what lies further on down that way. I would be wary if we take that road for any purpose."

"Then left it is." Greywulf said, spinning his quarterstaff as he did. The three kept moving as the light grew dimmer and darker... a foreboding sight.

X X X X X X X

"Are you sure about this?"

"Of course. They will not suspect a thing. Do you doubt my master thieving skills?"

"Well no... I just... if we get caught, we'll have an entire deity after us. I doubt Greywulf or Jaheira would be pleased."

"Minsc has a question... why must he wear the eye-patch?"

Yoshimo sighed as the three of them shuffled towards the entrance to the Temple of Talos, their clothing a bit... different than before. Still, they were definitely not wearing the typical garb of the adventuring life. The three pirates they had 'borrowed' their clothing from at the docks had obviously not been big on hygiene, that much was clear. Yoshimo grimaced as Minsc adjusted the eye patch he wore beneath the black bandanna wrapped around his bald head. "If I can only use one eye, villains could sneak up on Minsc. Boo does not approve."

"It's only until we're done with Renal Bloodscalp, Minsc... but I'll be glad when it's over too." Aerie said as she tried to straighten the slightly undersized vest that hung tightly on Minsc's bare chest, their other clothing and gear stashed elsewhere. "At least you're wearing the proper gender's clothing."

"Come Aerie, you look like a magnificent pirate." Yoshimo grinned as Aerie glared at him, the self-conscious elf maiden covered in a large brown shirt stained with rum and other unknown substances. Her hair had been tucked up and covered by a sailor's hat and a pair of leather trousers only dragged slightly as they walked. "Besides... you needn't worry about the Temple. They won't know a thing."

Yoshimo fixed his affable grin on his face as he left behind the two others and sauntered past the outer guards at the gates of the Temple of Talos, striding in. The large pirate's coat he wore was just nice enough to be worthy of a captain's position, and the large brimmed hat adorned with a resplendent feather was quite dashing, to be honest. He nodded to each acolyte or worshipper in the building as he nonchalantly circled the room, every now and then stopping and gazing at one of the statues or altars devoted to Talos. After almost fifteen minutes of this, he finally approached on e of the clerics, whispered a few requests, paid the man for a blessing, then left swiftly.

Leaving the Temple, he made his way back across the walkways and out of sight of the Temple guards, meeting up with Minsc and Aerie. Minsc frowned as he rubbed at the eye-patch, pulling it up so he could peer down at the thief with both eyes. "What did you find?"

"I believe I know which room the Weathermistress is in. From the snores, I believe she is asleep. That window on the East side should lead into her room; if I can get through there quietly enough, I can get in and out in less than five minutes."

"One problem," Aerie noted. "That window is over the river."

Glancing over at the Temple, Yoshimo sighed, noting Aerie's point. The temple was built on a platform above the river so that only the front side was accessible by land, whereas the window was on the right side.

"All right. This will still work." Yoshimo said after musing for a few seconds. "But this will make it much more difficult."

"You're not thinking of…" Aerie frowned.

"Yes, I'm going for a swim. Watch the front guards and distract them if need be." he said as he took off his heavy jacket and handed it to Aerie.

As Aerie and Minsc went over to watch the front guards, Yoshimo slipped around on a walkway overlooking the river nearly fifty meters away from the Temples, closer to the Order of the Radiant Heart headquarters. Watching as a city guard passed by, he gave a friendly nod, then leapt off the side the moment the guard had turned his head elsewhere. He formed his body into a perfect dive, knifing into the water with skill and ease.

He surfaced with speed, moving through the calm waters swiftly, the river flowing at a rate just slow enough for him to make progress to his upriver goal. As he struggled against a particularly strong current that began enveloping his body, he pulled his grapnel and rope from the belt loop he kept it in, and with a deep breath flung it as far as possible, wrapping around one of the support pillars sustaining the Temple platform. Luckily it stuck the first time; he used the new leverage to pull himself over towards the base pillar, holding onto the stone structure by the small gouges and indentations that the river had caused over the years. Seeing another lightning bolt crack across the sky as he studied his next means of climbing, he muttered, "Don't worry. I'll return it when we're done. I promise."

Getting to a point where he could see the right side of the building, Yoshimo looked it up and down for a moment as he bobbed up and down in the water, then moved over to the right most beam that supported the platform. He began climbing up that smaller pillar, making slow but steady progress until he was halfway up... his hand slipped on a stone and dropped him back into the water with a loud splash.

One of the clerics frowned, glancing at the other as Aerie and Minsc watched with alarm. One of them pointed a thumb back towards the Temple, the two of them unable to hear exactly what he was saying, but their meaning was clear enough. "What do we do?" Aerie whispered fearfully. "How can we distract them-"

Minsc whipped his head back and forth, looking through the walkway nearby for something to use... a man dressed in garb similar to the pirate wear they were currently dressed in was approaching, probably coming to pay respects to the Umberlee temple from the Docks. He had just passed Minsc... the ranger whipped one fist out, catching him under the chin and sending him sprawling to the ground. He quickly climbed to his feet, shooting daggers of hatred at Minsc. "Whaddya think yer doing! Spoilin for a fight, eh? I'll give ya one!"

The pirate leapt at Minsc, the two of them trading blows and grapples before Aerie's horrified and confused gaze... until she noticed the Temple Guards' attention was focused on the brawl, the Talossians having no problem with the sudden fight, but enjoying it rather immensely.

Below the raging street fight, Yoshimo cursed as he spat water from his mouth, breaking through the surface of the water at the base of the pillar once more. Before starting this time, he tore a sleeve from his lightweight shirt and slung the cloth strip around the pole, using it as leverage as he went, slowly making his way up the pillar, it's small diameter just enough for the sleeve length to fit, though his arms were stretched fully to grip both ends as he slowly made his way up.

Finally, he reached the top where he saw a number of floorboards and crossbeams. Using the crossbeams to support himself, he pulled himself along each one, getting to the edge of the right side of the Temple. Pulling a gauntlet from his belt, Yoshimo slipped it on and slammed its claws into the side of the wall, sticking there. As Yoshimo hung from the building, he put another on his left hand and used them to climb up the side, glancing towards the front side of the temple every few seconds, making sure no one was watching. Finally, he reached the window he had seen, and peeking in, he saw the covers on the bed inside filled, and could hear the same snores coming from it.

"Noisy sleeper. Good." Yoshimo said to himself, fiddling with the edges of the window. After a few seconds of picking, Yoshimo managed to pry one of the panes out of its frame. Dropping the panel into the water, he leapt into the window silently, crouching as he landed. He crept over to the bed, peeking in... the Weather mistress showed no signs of awaking, even after Yoshimo made a few quick lunges at her just in case. He quickly searched the room and found the pendant in a desk drawer. Putting it in his pack, he grunted slightly, "Mae'var was right. How does she wear this thing all day?"

With that he moved over to the open window and began to climb out... before he did, he smiled mischievously and grabbed a large, expensive looking amulet off the cabinet. Just as Yoshimo hit the waters, Minsc and Aerie were interrupted by the city guard, breaking up the fight. "You two sea rats want to brawl, do it on your ship!" he said roughly. "This isn't the Docks. We've got order around here, and if I catch you at this again you'll both see a night in the jails!"

The other pirate grumbled something, stumbling off as he held his jaw in one hand, wiping his bruised lip. Minsc followed Aerie as she led him away, sighing with worry as he grinned back down at her, a bruise forming on his cheek where his opponent had gotten an especially good hit in.

"Don't do that kind of thing again, Minsc." she chastised, whispering a few healing spells on Minsc. "Especially not without telling me first."

"You did not have to worry, Aerie. Minsc would not really have hurt the nice pirate. We were just having a little fun."

"I'm glad to see someone was." Both turned to see Yoshimo approaching, soaking wet and missing a sleeve from his shirt.

"You made it!" Aerie exclaimed.

"Have you acquired the pendant?" Minsc asked.

"Of course." Yoshimo smiled, running one hand through his hair. "I could use a towel right about now, and a tailor. I rather liked this shirt... my jacket please, and my hat."

He grinned as Aerie handed him back his accoutrements and donned them once more, somehow managing a dashing pose despite being completely soaked. "There... now that I'm presentable, let us ensure a safer location for our gear... perhaps the Coronet. Once we've dropped off our clothing and gear, we return this not-so-little piece of jewelry to Mae'var and continue onward."

"Minsc got to brawl in the streets while you were gone." the ranger said with a huge smile.

"I'll be your corruptor yet, my large friend." Yoshimo laughed. "Stealing sets of clothing, starting fights in the city, breaking into a Temple... 'a pirate's life for us' indeed."


	25. Part 1: Eye Of Darkness

_Author's Note: Thanks to all the readers out there... I know I've been fairly consistent with updating every few days, but I'm going to be heading up to Oregon State University in a few weeks, so updates might be a little less consistent now. I'll still try for at least once a week, but it could be a bit shaky. Either way, I appreciate all the readers and welcome any and all reviews... you folks are awesome!!_

"We are getting closer... I think we have found our goal." Keldorn whispered as the group made their way through the damp halls and pipes.

As they sneaked their way through the all-too prevalent darkness, the sound and smell of burning torches met their senses. Keldorn motioned for them to continue onward; as they did they reached a large hall carved into a stone cavern, a giant opening embedded in the rock. Over the doorway was an eye carved into it, looking like a twisted version of the Eye of Helm. An archway had been chiseled as well, with signs and symbols unknown to them carved into it. In front of the door were two men in armor, along with another man in the robes of a cleric standing between them. The man between them they recognized as Gaal, the prophet they had seen in the vision Oisig had shown them. Keldorn apparently knew this man as well; he stiffened slightly, letting one hand drift down to the hilt of his sword as they stepped into the light before the blind warriors. Gaal frowned and called out to them, "The Unseeing Eye's power reveals you to me, strangers! Declare yourselves and your intentions here. Why have you come to the temple of the one true god?"

Greywulf glanced at the others, their decision on how to handle this already been made long before actually reaching this point. "We have heard about this Unseeing Eye from you in the Temples... we wish to know what manner of religion this is. If what you say is indeed true, we might want to be a part of this new power."

Gaal smiled, "Ah! Bless you, for you have taken the first step to enlightening yourselves. We serve the Unseeing Eye, the god whose power gives us sight. We strip ourselves of our fleshly, corrupt sight by destroying our impure eyes so we can receive his vision instead."

"You… strip out your own eyes?" Jaheira said, unable to fully hide her disgust and revulsion for the man before her.

"Yes, it is the test of worthiness." Gaal said, frowning. "If you are not willing to do this small thing, you are not worthy of the Unseeing Eye."

"I'm not certain... how can we be sure of this power just yet?" Greywulf cut in. "I wish to 'see'... but my faith is somewhat lacking, I fear. Is there some way we can see who your god is before losing the eyes?"

"If you cannot manage a small fleshly sacrifice, then-" Gaal began, but then stopped, cocking his head slightly. "Hmm... perhaps we might be able to work something out. Yes, we might have use for ones such as you. To have found our stronghold without my aid you must be strong... warriors, yes?"

"We've done our share of fighting, true." Keldorn grunted. "What do you have in mind?"

"There is an item that the Unseeing Eye desires: half of a rod that has been buried for centuries. It is located at an abandoned temple not far from here. The master possesses one half, but the other half is beyond his grasp. If you can find the other half and bring it to me, you will be a blessed member of the brethren and retain your mortal sight as well. What say you?"

Greywulf frowned and said, "Why does your master desire this rod so much?"

"It is an artifact that will prove his existence and power." Gaal waved the question away. "It should not matter, if you truly desire admittance to his rule. Again, what say you?"

Greywulf looked at the others, meeting their eyes and knowing exactly what they were thinking... "All right. Where is this rod?"

Gaal did not answer for a moment, but seemed to study the three before him, almost as though suddenly deciding whether or not to trust them... then nodded. "The other tunnel path, the one that splits off when you reach the crossroads; I am sure you saw it when coming here, correct?"

"Yes, we did." Keldorn affirmed.

"That path leads down, to an ancient cavern where this temple is located. The rod half will be in the temple somewhere; prepare for battle, it will no doubt be protected well. Do your duty and you will be blessed. Now go."

Gaal turned and walked back in the structure behind him, leaving the three adventurers to leave, heading back to the tunnel they needed to enter.

"I knew it." Keldorn said with a grim smile. "It's all a farce. There is no 'god' here... whatever this Unseeing Eye may be, it is no deity. Gaal should've been able to sense my present devotion to Torm and Jaheira's to Silvanus."

"Seeing as they didn't call our bluff back there and we didn't launch an attack, I assume we're going with the sneaky option then." Greywulf mused. "So how do you want to play the angle with the rod?"

"I think it is obvious we cannot actually give them whatever this artifact is, should we even make the attempt to search for it." Jaheira noted.

"Right. First rule of artifact hunting: if something's been hidden for centuries _and _broken into numerous pieces... there's usually a pretty good reason for it." Greywulf chuckled.

"We might do what we agreed to... find this rod and discover its purpose. That might be enough to give us some further insight into what this cult is truly after." Keldorn advised. "This 'Unseeing Eye' may not be a god... but it supplies Gaal and the others with some power. We must know more of this matter before we make our own intentions known."

"Agreed." Jaheira nodded. "If we hurry we might reach the crossroads Gaal spoke of within the hour."

As Jaheira had thought, they reached the crossroads quickly and took the other path this time. It led down to a long flight of stone stairs, the sewers and pipes slowly disappearing as they progressed further. Eventually the darkness grew to where descending stairs without aid would have been treacherous, and only the magical illumination provided by Greywulf kept them moving. Finally they reached the floor where another chamber carved of stone and concrete awaited them, a faint glow betraying the presence of torches beckoning them down. Entering, a voice echoed through, "Halt! Hold fast, for we will not let your evil pass through here without a fight!"

Looking at the source of the voice, they saw a group of men stepping out of the darkness, swords and weapons drawn. These men were also blind, cloths covering their eyes just as Gaal had been, but did not seem to have near the coordination or surefootedness the cult prophet had shown.

"Lower your weapons, friends." Keldorn called. "State your purpose: are you followers of the Unseeing Eye?"

"We should ask you that question, intruders!" the speaker of the group called out, his head cocking to the side to ensure he heard everything before him. "All you need know is that if you yourselves follow this so-called Unseeing Eye, you are fools who will die unless you turn from your way! Now answer or feel our wrath! Who are you and why are you here?!"

"We are three adventurers... sent by the Temple of Helm. Our mission is simple; bring down this cult and expose it for the evil it is." Keldorn said, the venerable man stepping out, the calm and authority in his voice both demanding respect and yet bringing peace. "It would appear that we are your allies in this matter."

The men with weapons did not lower their weapons immediately; some mistrust was still in the air. "How do we know you are not spies from that accursed cult? Spies to slip past us and achieve your twisted purposes?"

"If we were truly spies, we would not have wasted so much effort in convincing you otherwise... we would have simply killed you and been done with it." Jaheira answered with her usual manner, Greywulf suddenly glaring at her with an obvious message. _That's not helping..._

"Whatever has happened to you... I am truly sorry." Keldorn's voice broke through, slowly defusing the situation once more. "On my oath as a Paladin of Torm... we are who we say we are. And if you will allow it, we would see justice be done here."

The oath of Keldorn was enough... the weapons were lowered, their spokesman scarce daring to believe it. "You… you are not from the cult, are you? Praise Lathander! Oh, perhaps the gods have finally seen fit to take mercy on us for our betrayal."

"Perhaps you should tell us what has happened here." Greywulf said, the three of them following the blinded warriors back into the room, over to a number of poorly laid cots and chairs.

"Please sit. My name is Sassar... and I fear I must ask your forgiveness for our reaction to your presence." the blind man said, slowly sitting down when he was sure of his surroundings.

"If you are indeed enemies of the cult, than I imagine you have little occasion to greet anyone with a hospitable face rather than steel." Keldorn noted. "No forgiveness need be offered except an explanation of what you may be doing here."

Sassar grimaced; it was obviously not a pleasant memory for the blind man. Still, he seemed to brace himself, and began speaking. "We were once priests... all of us. Everyone here at one point served one of the gods, Helm, Lathander, Torm... until we betrayed them. Until we abandoned our faith and every blessing we had been so graciously given to follow this path of darkness."

"You were all followers of the Unseeing Eye." Jaheira said grimly. "The priests of this cult, yes?"

"Aye... we were. Gouging out our own eyes in sacrifice to this blasphemous evil, we were certain after our vision was granted by this 'deity' that we were in the right... now I see it as just one more deception. May the gods forgive us for our foolishness. We were the first of the cult... the roots through which the Unseeing Eye spread his malice. He bade us build a temple down here and we never questioned it once."

"It was not until I and the rest of my fellows were instructed to begin converting others, forcefully if necessary... it did not sit right with some. These with me were the ones who began to wonder just what god we had been driven to. None of us had ever seen him before, despite the fact he claimed a physical form. So one day, we decided to find the truth. We made the mistake of telling others of our plans before we crept to his quarters, thinking that they would provide us backup or a distraction so that we could spy unseen. We were wrong... not everyone felt as we did in the priesthood."

"Gaal." Greywulf said in understanding.

"Yes... Gaal betrayed us to the Unseeing Eye... but not before we had discovered his true purpose. This 'god'... it is a beast of the Underdark, a beholder of enormous size and power... so much so it could grant its followers a manner of sight. As soon as he learned of our betrayal our vision was gone once more. We had just barely escaped the Temple before we lost our sight... and only we seven escaped here. The rest who believed as we did were killed by Gaal... his price to become the new high priest of the Unseeing Eye."

"A beholder cult... right underneath Athkatla." Keldorn mused grimly. "The darkness grows powerful indeed if the Eye of Helm was unable to see this threat. Sassar, you said you discovered the truth... why the beholder was here. Did it have anything to do with the rod Gaal told us of?"

"You know of the rod?" Sassar said abruptly, freezing in his spot.

"Aye, we do. In fact, Gaal sent us here to retrieve it." Greywulf said cautiously.

"No! You must not let them have both halves! You mustn't!!" Sassar screeched, lurching from his chair with a flailing of arms, Keldorn reaching out and steadying him. "That is why we are here; what we guard from those blasphemers!!"

"All right... settle down for a moment." Greywulf said gently, as Keldorn helped the man sit once more, his face almost frantic at the mention of the rod. "What is this rod?"

"Swear to me you will never let the beholder have it." Sassar said shakily. "Swear it or I will tell you nothing."

"We swear... the cult shall never lay hands on it." Jaheira said firmly. "Now please... what is this rod that a beholder should desire it so much?"

"It... it is an artifact of ancient power, crafted by the gods themselves. Long was it fought over by the divine powers, by both good and evil deities. Many battles raged for control of its power, and it was almost the cause of a war in the heavens... until Ao, the Overfather stepped in. Ao deemed that no god should wield it and that it be hidden on Toril, forbidden from use by the gods. Still, the question remained about the rod... if the gods could not be trusted with its power, how could they allow mortals to handle it?"

"And so it was hidden... broken to prevent us from ever using it." Greywulf finished.

"Yes. It is said that any mortal who attempts to use the rod will be consumed by its power... but the beholder's own strength is so great... it might be strong enough to bend it to its will. We cannot take that risk." Sassar said with bowed head. "In an attempt to atone for our sins, we have sworn to safeguard the path that leads to the second piece. I can only pray that the gods might someday grant us forgiveness for our foolishness."

"Just how strong is this beholder?" Greywulf asked.

"It is very old... its power has done nothing but grow in the ages it has lived. It has done the unthinkable, gouge out its magic dampening eye so that it may use magic alongside its regular abilities." Sassar said with more than a hint of despair. "If it truly wished... it could destroy us with ease. It only fears losing its half of the rod and will not venture too far away from it... otherwise it fears nothing."

"Then we will teach it fear." Keldorn said boldly, standing up. "We cannot allow this threat to remain unchecked. Somehow we must destroy this cult and kill the beholder."

"If only it were so simple." Sassar sighed. "Still... perhaps you can do what we have been unable to. One thing is certain; the beholder must never have the full rod... and yet, it might be used. I have a plan for this, but we have had no one to carry it out, until now. If you can get the half of the rod that is below us, I think we can get a hold of the other half that the beholder has. If you can put the rod together, you might be able to use it to destroy the beholder."

"I thought you said it would consume any mortal who used it?" Jaheira asked with a frown.

"It will... but its power has no doubt diminished over the centuries. Perhaps... perhaps one use might be safe. After that, it must be returned to its resting place and hidden once again."

"I would rather we avoid using the rod altogether." Keldorn advised. "Nevertheless, you are right in that we will need the half the beholder has. How do you propose we do so?"

"If the cult temple is still the same as it was when we were priests, then there is a back entrance that will lead down into the lair of the beholder itself. Wait until Gaal is testing the new arrivals over the Pit of the Faithless; use that time to slip past and find the rod. With any luck, the Unseeing Eye will not be present at the moment."

"Not exactly a comforting scenario, but I guess we have no choice. Which way to the first half?" Greywulf conceded with a grimace.

"There is a passage over there, at the end of the cavern. We attempted to block it and seal the way... but I imagine you will be able to tear through our efforts fairly easily. Follow it to its end and you will find what you seek." Sassar said with a faint smile. "Go... and may the true gods bless and protect you."

Greywulf and company nodded, beginning to leave... Keldorn stopped, approaching Sassar and placing one hand on the man's shoulder. "You have done much good and repented in truth. Remember that the gods are not without compassion, Sassar. In time you will find your peace and the forgiveness you so desperately seek; until then... you must learn to forgive yourself."

X X X X X X X

"Edwin… that name is very familiar. Boo's whiskers quiver at the name; I do not like this."

"I'm sure it will be fine." Aerie said, trying to calm the suspicious ranger as they ascended to the second floor. As promised, they had returned the pendant to Mae'var after returning to the Docks. Mae'var had not exactly been welcoming, passing them off for another job to his lieutenant, a wizard he had called 'Edwin'. Minsc had veritably twitched at the name... his hand kept closing around the hilt of the Sword of Chaos as they moved, Aerie continually trying to calm him down. Still, his mind kept churning, trying to remember where he had heard the name before...

"Greetings. I am Edwin Odesseiron, a master of conjuring and unparalleled in power. You simians may refer to me merely as 'Sir,' if you prefer a less... syllable intensive workout."

Yoshimo barely had time to blink before there was a blur that flashed past him, the sound of a sword unsheathing chilling his blood as he spotted Minsc in the middle of the room with a thin man in a large, bright red wizards robe. The contrast in size and frame between the two men might have been interesting if it weren't for the fact that the wizard had the tip of a sword touching his stomach and the ranger had a surging ball of lightning pointing at his unprotected head.

"I remember you now..." Minsc said darkly in a voice that veritably shook with anger. "You were the evil wizard who tried to kill Dynaheir. Minsc promised you something then. Do you remember?"

"Unlike your feebleminded brain(the spell would have no effect on you, nothing to affect), my memory is excellent. You promised to protect your Wychlarian charge from me... who, since she is not with you, must finally rest among the worms where she belongs."

Minsc's eyes flared and his other hand shot out to grasp Edwin's throat; Edwin's other hand lit up with a fireball that he also held at Minsc's head alongside his lightning ball.

"You two know each other well, then." Yoshimo remarked helplessly as he watched the standoff between the ranger and the wizard. "Perhaps... it might not be a bad idea to ignore past grievances, at least for the moment. You'll have to forgive Minsc, he gets... excited, easily."

Edwin sneered up at Minsc, his long drooping mustache curling despite the pressure exerted on his throat by Minsc's hand. "Tell your hairy ape(an insult to apes by saying so, really) to release me and I will forget this transgression for now."

Minsc hesitated for a moment... then released Edwin, sheathing his sword again. He leaned forward in Edwin's face and growled, "Twice you have escaped my wrath. You will not escape a third time, Minsc swears."

"The past hardly matters." Edwin remarked calmly, straightening the collar on his robe as he eyed the other two in the group. "This is the company you now keep? (I would not have been surprised to find him following a donkey around, in truth) Bah, it does not matter, so long as you serve... adequately."

"You'll find we are capable." Yoshimo nodded, trying to keep Minsc's temper in check by ending the meeting as quickly as possible. "What would you have us do?"

"(Aside from take a bath?) It seems that my prowess as a mage has captured the eye of the Cowled Wizards. I'm certain they are envious, though their actions are not fitting tribute. They have dispatched an agent to investigate my activities, something I don't appreciate. This insult must be punished by killing the Cowled agent. Rayic Gethras is his name. His house is a gray three-story behind a fence along the westward wall of the Docks District. When you find him, do not hesitate to end his life. Question him beforehand if you like. Any insight into the Cowled Wizards is useful; a little torture would soften him."

"I... murder, torture? W-we won't do those things!" Aerie exclaimed, drawing back in shock, though she glanced at Yoshimo in fear. "We won't, will we?"

"(Damn, I wish they would just do as I say.)" Edwin muttered, before scowling at the elf. "Unless I am mistaken(which is never the case) you are a follower in this band. Do what you are told and leave the thinking to your betters. I have given my instructions; be on your way before I am forced to involve Mae'var in this. (Ugh, motivating these sloths is like pulling teeth.)"

Yoshimo glanced to his right; he saw the pleading expression in Aerie's gaze... he turned his head from her and swallowed. "Of course. Consider it done."

There was silence between them as the three adventurers left the guild hall, Aerie watching Yoshimo with a hint of betrayal in her eyes. _We're... we're going to kill this man, just because that wicked_ _mage in there told us to? Torture him beforehand? I... I never imagined ever doing these kinds of things when we started. Greywulf would never murder someone in cold blood. He wouldn't agree, would he? Stealing from the Temple for Mae'var... couldn't we have made the money some other way beside this? Maybe I was naive when we started... but I just... I never thought it would be like this. Selling ourselves like this for... for scum like them? I feel so wrong... like the blood just won't wash off our hands... _

"Aerie?"

The elf looked up suddenly, catching Yoshimo's gaze. "Huh?"

"I said we should hope the Shadow Thieves take the blame for this death, so as to avoid the Cowled Wizards' ire."

"Oh... of course." she said as they kept moving, doubts that were long suppressed creeping to the forefront of Aerie's mind.

X X X X X X

"This can't end well." Greywulf muttered, leaping back from the perch he had stopped to rest upon. As he left the small jutting of rock, a shadow fiend slashed the space he had formerly been occupying. The three had ventured deep into the darkness of the paths below, moving through rock, stone and darkness. However, they had just reached a small widening of the chamber, a large cavern of sorts when a group of shadows, wraiths, and shadow fiends had slipped into the light to attack.

Their sheer numbers had nearly overwhelmed them, but the three companions had managed to stay alive so far, and were hard pressed against their many foes. Keldorn was fighting with righteous valor, his blade cutting through shadow and wraith, slaying many. Jaheira had been backed up into a small crevice with no exit, the shadows eagerly trying to reach her life force. She had quickly taught them respect though, killing any who attempted to enter the small split of rock and get her. Greywulf had been forced to flee, dodging and leaping from area to area in an attempt to avoid death. As he dodged another attack, Greywulf thrust out his hand and conjured a wave of magic, sending all the shadows right on his tail flying back.

Finding himself with some breathing space, he hurried over to Keldorn and aided the older paladin, taking some pressure off him. Without so many enemies, Keldorn regained a fire he had previously lost, and strode forth, slaying any in his path. With many shadows occupied by Keldorn, Greywulf moved over to where Jaheira was fighting and with a few blasts of fire, he pulled a few of the shadows off her. Jaheira came out of her crevice swinging, sending the shadows guarding her fleeing. The numbers of shadows that had been killed began to weigh upon the other shades and they retreated in the end, fleeing back into the darkness of the cave ahead.

Watching the creatures flee, finally certain they were safe, Keldorn sat down on a nearby rock, the toll of the battle weighing heavily upon him. "In Torm's name, justice has been done."

"Are you alright, Keldorn?" Greywulf asked. "You seem so tired after every battle, so weary. Is all well?"

"This may seem hard to believe for a young lad such as yourself," Keldorn said with the hint of a smile, "But as you grow older, battle becomes tiresome, weary to the body. The spirit is still willing to fight on, but the flesh… well, it has not the strength or energy of past years. You have not felt the effects of age as I have, even less so since you are part elf and will live much longer than I. Still, I am fifty-nine and but human. It has been some time since I felt the fire of youth in my old bones."

"You still fight with the zeal of a righteous warrior; I would take your experience far above youth." Greywulf countered.

"Perhaps, but all the experience in the world is not enough sometimes. Take our present quest for example; it is a dangerous path we tread. The corrupting power of an ancient artifact on one side, the grasp of a power hungry beholder upon the other. We must walk the narrow road of light and pray we do not fall either way."

"Balance indeed." Jaheira noted. "Careful, Keldorn. You almost sound like a Harper."

Keldorn gave something of a wry smile. "I think not, Jaheira. I have met some of your kin in the past... fought alongside them, in fact. With all due respect to yourself, my lady... I am not, nor would I want to be a Harper."

Standing up once more, Keldorn said, "I shall scout a ways ahead, to see how far we have left to go. I will return within a few minutes."

Even as Keldorn shrank into the darkness ahead, Jaheira knit her brow, scarce noticing Greywulf moving to sit beside her. She glanced up at him, then sighed. He could tell that some of what Keldorn had said about her kin had touched her, if only in the slightest. "You all right?"

"Hmm? Of course... just thinking."

"About?"

Jaheira eyed him with a hint of annoyance. "Greywulf... when you ask someone what they're doing and they give you a vague answer... it's generally because they don't care to tell you."

"Oh, I know." Greywulf grinned back. "But I'm nosy. So..."

She sighed, shaking her head with a resigned chuckle. "Just thinking about what Keldorn said, about the path we walk. We continue on our journey and I cannot help but wonder if we... I walk in balance. I have a role to follow…"

"I assume you speak of your role as Harper?" Greywulf asked.

"As Harper and druid." Jaheira noted. "They are complimentary, despite bards being thought the Harper standard-bearers. Both seek balance over all. I…I think I have done so."

Staring out into the dark with a quiet intensity, she continued, "Sometimes the proper course is hard to see; what is best overall may seem barbaric at first. You will know this when… if you deal with Harpers in the future."

Frowning, Greywulf turned to look at the woman beside him and said, "It sounds like you do not trust yourself. That's unlike you."

Jaheira shrugged reluctantly and said, "The goal is what matters, despite a questionable method. Take Montaron and Xzar for example... balance in politics, balance in nature, balance in one's self; all take strong measures to maintain."

Looking down at the ground between her feet, she slowly said, "I think… I think I am the one out of balance, not you. I think… well, I think many things."

Sighing deeply, she said, "I'm afraid you'll have to indulge my silence a bit longer. I…I apologize for giving you such an evasive answer. We should get ready, Keldorn approaches."

Standing to their feet, the duo greeted the returning paladin, who approached them, a look of hope on his face.

"There is a bridgeway ahead. I can see the a large stairway beyond it, which I believe leads right to the resting place of the rod. We need only cross the rock bridge and we shall be there."

"Do you truly believe it will be that easy?" Jaheira inquired.

"No... there is still great evil that lurks down here. I can feel it all around. Still, it is a fairly short distance. If we can make it past these last few obstacles, we will have reached our destination." Keldorn said.

"Then we should hurry... it's been nearly two days since we left the others and we were supposed to meet them within the week." Greywulf said as they followed Keldorn towards the area he had described.

Indeed there was a rock bridge as Keldorn had described, though its shape was a little different than they had expected. At least a hundred yards long, with a thinness and instability that was more than a little disconcerting. Only hesitating briefly, they began crossing, moving slowly as small pieces of rock chipped off with their footsteps, dropping into the endless chasm below them. Just as they reached the halfway point, a sound like a mighty wind gusting swept through the cavern until they could see the source. From both ends of the bridge came more shadows and wraiths, rushing towards the adventurers trapped in the middle.

Even as the hissing and howling enemies approached, Jaheira stood on one side, Keldorn the other and Greywulf in the middle. Words of powerful magic struck shadows from a distance, thinning the ranks of undead that met fighting range. Keldorn and Jaheira used their surroundings to great advantage, pushing the wraiths so that only one could approach at a time. And for the experienced warriors, that was more than manageable. Still, the numbers of shadow creatures were enormous, the cavern housing thousands of such creatures. Greywulf switched tactics and began the words to simple cantrips rather than complicated spells. Flares of light began sparking from his hands, shooting up through the air and illuminating the cavern.

One flare was easily ignored... but they kept coming, dozens of them spitting out from the sorcerer's hands. The lights' power eventually weakened the shadows, sending some weaker ones fleeing. The few that remained were dispatched by Keldorn and Jaheira, finally opening their path to the other side of the bridge. The sound of hissing and snapping behind them echoed up as they quickened their pace, aiming for the base of the stairway and ran for the stairs, creatures of shadow following behind as the magical light began to dim. Not daring to look back until they had reached the first of the steps, they turned, only to see the shades hesitating, making half-lunges at them from a distance.

"What is this?" Jaheira frowned. "Why should they flee us now?"

"Perhaps they fear something that lies near." Keldorn said, glancing towards the barely visible top of the staircase.

"The rod?" Greywulf asked.

"I don't know." Keldorn shook his head. "Regardless, we've done much today, and the shadows seem to leave us well enough alone here. I suggest we take a rest. This may be the only chance we have for some sleep for a while."

After a nod of agreement from Greywulf and Jaheira, Greywulf took first watch, vigilantly scanning the cavern for any returning shades. He allowed himself a quiet chuckle; Imoen had always used to joke that the dark was nothing to be afraid of... only the dozens of bloodthirsty monsters hiding inside. Imoen... _It's been almost a month since we lost her... gods, I miss her. Wherever you are Imoen... I haven't forgotten. We're coming._


	26. Part 1: Conscience In Shadow

"Is it open?" Aerie asked nervously, helping block Yoshimo from sight along with Minsc as the oriental thief fiddled with the lock on the door.

"Almost." Yoshimo grunted, maneuvering his tools around as he attempted to pry the mechanism open. "Just a bit more… there."

Yoshimo quietly slid the door open as Aerie and Minsc ducked inside, shutting it smoothly as he stepped in too.

"We could just as easily have waited until nightfall..." Aerie said nervously, looking around the lavishly decorated room as though their target were going to appear from nowhere and smite them for their transgression.

Yoshimo sighed, noting just how uncomfortable Aerie was in this particular situation. He had not missed her protests about this job when first speaking with Edwin... she was still so new to this whole business. Killing one more man meant little to Yoshimo... but not to Aerie. He saw the way she fought back her fears when they entered battle... the disgust she tried to hide whenever her magics struck someone down. She still hadn't come to grips with the violence and gritty tone of this life... but now was definitely not the time for hesitation. This Cowled Wizard was a just another job; for a bounty hunter, nothing more than a target on his list.

"First, we must finish these menial tasks as quickly as possible to reach Mae'var himself; waiting around for six hours isn't going to help. Second, this is the Docks. There are no guards around here; people get mugged, killed, assaulted and robbed every day here and no one says a thing. One more break-in isn't likely to bring a troop of guards here." Yoshimo pointed out quietly as he waved them onward toward the staircase in the far hall.

Aerie bit back the argument on her tongue, unwilling to risk alerting this Gethras man of their presence by prolonging the argument. She glanced over at Minsc, hoping to find some manner of disapproval on his face, anything to confirm her own compunctions about this mission, but his mind was still clearly elsewhere... no doubt on the Red Wizard Edwin they had confronted earlier.

They checked each adjoining room thoroughly as they moved through the lower levels, but they found no wizard. Reaching the flight of stairs leading up, Yoshimo knelt down, blocking the other two from ascending. His quick eyes and nimble fingers discerned and disarmed a number of panels, trip wires and traps, finally standing up with a sigh, motioning for them to keep moving. The second floor was set up as one singular room, filled with all manner of tables that held alchemical potions, brewing devices alongside numerous other magical contraptions. Yoshimo's foot quietly stepped down on the wood flooring... but even that tiny pressure was enough to raise two golems at the back of the room to life, one of stone and one of flesh. They said nothing and gave no warning; they raised their fists high as they charged, rumbling straight at the company of intruders.

Yoshimo and Minsc took the brunt of the attack, drawing one each while Aerie cast her spells, hailing the golems with magical energy and keeping them off balance. Yoshimo brought one katana up to block a down swing from the flesh golem, then brought the other in a diagonal slash across the chest. The golem had no time to react to the first swipe before the thief had brought both katanas back in a blind side attack. He struck twice, then swung across to the other side to do the same on the golems other side. Yoshimo whirled away from the construct as he brought both katanas to guard again; the flesh golem swayed in place for a brief second... then collapsed to the ground.

The stone golem was faring better against Minsc, keeping Stonefire and Frostreaver from striking hard enough to do damage. One large fist connected with Minsc's shoulder, spinning the ranger around and allowing it time to slam another fist into Minsc's back. Groaning as he tried to get up, Minsc's vision cleared enough to see the stone creature whirling around in a frenzy, its arms flailing wildly as it tried to shake off an unwanted burden. Yoshimo had leapt onto the beast's large back and was hanging on the creature's neck, slashing at the construct with his free hand's katana as his body flopped around with the golem's wild movements. One of Aerie's spells activated as Minsc finally regained his footing, flooding Minsc with new speed and energy. The ranger took full advantage and brought both axes into a grand upswing, gashing deep into the golem's chest. It stumbling backward and off balance; Yoshimo leapt clear just as the golem fell, crumbling into nothing more than gravel and debris.

"That was exhilarating. I've never ridden a golem before." Yoshimo said with his customary grin as he stared at the pile of stone on the floor.

"We should get going." Aerie glanced at the final staircase heading up. "If this Rayic is home, he's sure to have heard all that."

Minsc spared one more glance at the battle damage as they headed up the stair and muttered, "Yoshimo gets all the fun. Minsc and Boo want to ride a golem too."

The third story of the building held another laboratory like room; still, nobody was readily visible as they crept into the room, weapons drawn and at the ready...

A blast of extreme cold swept over them with a flash, encasing all three within a prison of ice. A dimension door opened as Rayic Gethras stepped out before their immobilized forms, looking them over with obvious disgust. He leaned close to Yoshimo who had been at lead, peering into his eyes. "Fool thieves... did you really think you could enter _my _house and steal from _me _without retribution?! Know that this will be the last mistake you ever make."

He moved away and leaned over to peer at the frozen Aerie, smirking as he noted the spell components she still had on her belt despite the pirate garb she was wearing. "A 'mage'? Pathetic. An insult, really... perhaps I should slaughter you first to spare you the disgrace of your obvious embarrassment."

Beside Rayic Gethras, the ice that held Minsc began to quiver slightly, not enough to be noticeable at a side glance... but if he had bothered to look, he would have seen Minsc's eye fixed on him even as the wizard finally decided which spell to use. Small cracks began creeping out from Minsc's arms and chest, agonizingly slow but steady...

Gethras allowed himself a good bit of satisfaction as he felt the power of a Disintegrate spell flood through his hands, the incantations half completed as his mind slowly analyzed the situation. _Simple thieves? Perhaps not... assassins sent by the Red Wizard I'm watching, more likely. I will have to move up my timetable concerning the fool mage-_

The sound of a large crack echoed next to him, the abrupt sound just enough to jolt him out of his introspection, his spell releasing just a few seconds prematurely. The green globe hit the ice in front of Aerie, disintegrating the ice as it pushed further and further towards Aerie... stopping right before her face. Rayic Gethras stumbled back a few steps as he watched the ice block containing Minsc in disbelief, the split running through it widening as the whole block veritably shook, Minsc's eyes fixed on the wizard. He raised his hands to cast another spell to finish the ranger... too late. Minsc burst out of the imprisonment with a bellow, little flecks of frost and ice still clinging to his muscles as he charged forward, a berserker rage in his eyes. Gethras never had a chance.

Minsc took a deep breath as he returned Frostreaver to the axe on his back, though Stonefire stayed in his hand. Pushing the blade against the ice around Aerie, the blade cut deep and melted the ice around. Within a minute, Aerie had slumped to the ground, shivering violently as Minsc lowered her to the ground gently. "You are all right, Aerie?" Minsc asked worriedly, grasping her hands as he tried to revive her. "I have not failed again, have I?"

"S-s...so c-cold." Aerie whispered, her teeth chattering as Minsc quickly stood and pulled a fairly large tapestry that had been hanging on the wall nearby. He laid it over her, Aerie nodding to him. "I-I'll b...b-be fine. G...get Yoshimo o-out."

Minsc nodded earnestly, his eyes brightening as he quickly pulled Boo from his belt pouch and let him scamper into Aerie's shivering hands. "Boo will take care of you; I will be right back."

It took less than two minutes for Minsc to free Yoshimo, who was in slightly better shape than Aerie, thanks to his heavy pirate's coat and clothing. After assuring himself that the thief would be all right, Minsc went back over to check on Aerie. Smiling as he noticed her stroking Boo with a weak smile, he turned back to the shivering thief with a grin. "Wine, Yoshimo! Song!! The witch lives!"

Yoshimo could not help but smile despite the chill runnig through his body; he glanced down at the corpse of Gethras. _The last mistake you ever made? Challenging an overprotective berserker ranger with a hamster. _

X X X X X X X

Greywulf yawned once as he surveyed the cavern for the first half of the third hour of his watch. Its shadows were just as ominous and darkness still concealed just about everything... if there was ever a need for watch duty, this would be the place for it. He shook himself once to stay awake and sighed, inwardly wishing for a Potion of Vitality. He mused over whether a Haste spell might help, then shrugged the idea away, knowing he'd be more tired than ever within minutes after it had been cast. Besides, it was only another half hour... His eyes wandered over to his two companions and he studied each of them as they slept. The mighty paladin slept with his back propped up against a fairly large rock, one hand resting on the hilt of the Hallowed Redeemer. _We're fortunate to have such a valiant warrior as he with us; his will is amazing. A body broken and battered by thirty years of service, yet he continues to fight for what he believes in... amazing. I wonder why he still fights; surely the Order would have given him a hero's send off if he chose to retire. Yet here he is, fighting the good fight once more. _

Turning to Jaheira, he cocked his head slightly and shook his head knowingly as he noticed that she was not sleeping, but her eyes were open, staring out into the darkness of the cave. Greywulf turned back to his watch and said softly, "Jaheira... you should be asleep. I can handle one watch by myself, you know."

She turned and sat up, shrugging off the blanket that composed her bed for the moment. "I'm sorry, Greywulf. It's not that I don't trust you, but I just… I have a lot on my mind, that's all."

"More nightmares? I had thought those were ended." he asked with a frown.

"They have." she said. "It's not so much that as… well…"

She stopped for a second, then climbed to her feet to look at Greywulf eye level. "I…I worry sometimes…"

She looked around, as though searching for the right words, then asked, "Greywulf, how often do you think of missing friends? Missing, or…lost?"

She chuckled briefly, then sighed as she answered her own question. "A foolish question, I know. I don't know what prompted me to ask."

Greywulf shrugged and said, "I do not mind. They are in mind often... Imoen, Khalid, Dynaheir… Gorion. Each and every one of them is a weight I carry within me, wondering if I could have done something differently, something to make it better. I will not forget them."

"Lately..." Jaheira said quietly, staring out into the dark cave. "Lately I have given much thought to Gorion... Khalid. Wondering what either of them would think about the path we walk now. About the deeds we have done, how we have carried their memories, their legacy. Wondered whether they would approve, I suppose. I imagine you know something of the feeling."

"That I do." Greywulf answered back. "I wonder what would have happened had Gorion not died that night... what his plans were, how he we would have continued on. Sometimes I think he'd be proud of me, what I've done... other times, not quite so much."

"I'm not sure why I brought this up." Jaheira said with uncertainty. "I just needed to know that… the living and dead are still in mind. They grow distant, but vengeance must come."

Looking around the surrounding area, a trace of anger entered her voice. "I am becoming used to the aftermath of death, but I will not forget what must be avenged. There must be closure, I must do this even as I…as we… move on."

Greywulf nodded in affirmation, saying, "I know this better than any other. Old wrongs will not be forgotten."

"That is good to know. Those passed beyond will be glad we do not carry them as a burden, but that we seek justice in their names. I… Silvanus, I must sound like a brooding fool. How you put up with these repetitive talks and groanings on my part is beyond me." she said with what Greywulf might have construed as a flush of embarrassment on her part, had he not known her better.

"I have no idea." he shot back with an impish grin, eliciting a glare from her before she moved over to him, gesturing towards his own makeshift bed.

"You should get some rest, Greywulf. I'll take the watch now... good night, Greywulf."

At another time he might have put up a tough front and insisted he could handle it for the last half hour... but gods, he was tired. He nodded with appreciation and gratefully slipped under his own blanket, nodding once more to Jaheira. "Good night, Jaheira."

A last string of thoughts flowed through his head as he dropped off to sleep. _She's a tough woman, that's for sure._ _She deserves some closure after all she's been through; I almost pity Irenicus when she catches up to him. Almost. She's been a good friend and teacher to me for almost two years. I can't quite imagine what I'd do if she wasn't here to guide me. _

Even as Jaheira maintained the watch while Greywulf finally slipped into unconsciousness, the shadows lurking around their small campsite began looming larger and growing taller, coming out from hiding and rustling towards the lone sentry. Their claws were outstretched as they crept closer, Jaheira's eyes still just drowsy enough to miss their stealthy approach... a blinding flash of fire and light went off in a circle all about the group. The shadow creatures shrieked and fell back, diminished and struck by the magical light. Keldorn's eyes flashed open as he pushed himself to his feet, drawing his blade as he stood. Greywulf was up a half-second afterward, a smile crossing his face as he watched the proceedings.

"What happened?" Keldorn asked, squinting at the creatures, fleeing from the erupting flames.

"A sunfire spell trap I placed at the beginning of my watch." Greywulf said with a hint of satisfaction. "It should keep them at bay for a while."

"How long will it last?" Jaheira glanced over at him.

"The sunfire bursts will come periodically for another fifteen minutes or so; plenty long enough for us to reach the top of the stairway." Greywulf noted, already wrapping his blanket up and tying it back onto his pack. "They seem to have overcome their fear of this area... once the spell trap runs out of energy, we'd better have found some cover. Let's get moving."

"You haven't had any rest yet." Jaheira warned.

"I'll be fine." Greywulf said, stifling another yawn. "Really, I couldn't be more awake."

Jaheira snorted and said, "Like hell you are. As soon as we get to this temple with the rod, we rest if it's safe and then we get out of this place. We're already in over our heads; the last thing we need right now is you miscasting a critical spell because you had to yawn in the middle of the incantations."

"Jaheira is right." Keldorn nodded with a critical eye at the sorcerer's weary posture. "You need rest if you are to fight at full strength against a beholder."

Greywulf didn't argue the point, but was content to get started climbing the stairs and put some distance between them and the swarm of shadows at the bottom. While they weren't exactly fast, they still made good time and had almost reached the top before the sunfire blasts behind them stopped. The shades shrieked and hissed below them, but they did not pursue, unwilling to follow them up.

Greywulf sighed in relief as he glanced back at the monsters behind them. "Looks like we're safe for now-"

He was cut off by Keldorn's arm, impeding him from continuing onward as the paladin raised his blade and began backing up, Jaheira following suit. The wizard turned back around with a frown... and immediately took back his words. A large cavern hall took up the entirety of the area above the staircase, a giant temple in the center. It was in a state of horrible disrepair, large pieces of stone fallen off the side of the temple and sitting at the side. The symbol of the god the temple was devoted to was covered in large gashes and scrapes, though from the jagged pieces of stone laid by the temple, one could not know if they were the result of the long years of disrepair or intentional.

Still, this was not what gave the three of them such a fright... dozens of giant, red bodied demons stalked around the temple, guttural murmurs issuing from the infernal beasts. Some were winged, others horned, but each one was obviously a denizen of the Hells. The one closest by stalked within five yards of their position, only turning it's grotesque head once to glance at them. A collective intake of breath was heard as the three prepared for an attack by the demon... it only opened its massive, tooth filled maw for a moment as though growling, then kept on walking, leaving them untouched and confused. "At least we know why the shadows avoid this place." Greywulf said cautiously as they stayed back, still unsure of whether to enter any further. "What do you think... guardians, maybe?"

"Something is amiss here..." Keldorn stretched out one hand, letting his senses reach out for the presence of Evil within the creatures before him, trying as hard as he could. "I can feel no evil within these demons; at least not enough for the appearances they show us. More... rage, than anything else. A dull, throbbing anger that permeates this place... directed toward the temple."

"Something has unbalanced this place... the power of this rod is great indeed." Jaheira said grimly. "Do we continue?"

"We have no choice. Torm protect us." Keldorn whispered as the three stepped forward as one, preparing to pass through the achingly long distance between them and the entrance to the temple... their every step haunted by the demons that surrounded them.

X X X X X X X

The only sound in the makeshift outpost was the crackling of the torches that lined the room... an ironic twist and something of a futile gesture for the men who stayed there to keep them lit, since none of them could actually see. Sassar allowed himself a tiny smile, the first he'd had for many months. Most would ask why they bothered to keep lighting the torches... Sassar thought of it as a gesture of hope and faith, believing that perhaps one day, their sight might be restored by the gods.

A vain hope, maybe... but Sassar would not give up his belief, not yet at least. Especially since the arrival of the three... maybe their time was finally here. Maybe the evil they had helped create would finally be undone... and their own souls forgiven. Nary a word had been spoken since the adventurers had come and gone, as though everyone was afraid that by speaking it would be revealed as nothing more than another nightmare to torment them. He fingered the quarterstaff he used to walk with, holding it close as he sat by the entrance to the caverns below, the resting place of the accursed rod. His thoughts wandered to what the paladin had told him before he had left. _"You must learn to forgive yourself..."_

He almost laughed at the prospect, the weight of guilt he bore almost immediately squelching any possible prospects of such peace. It had been such a long time since he had seen himself with any sort of worth, only as a betrayer who deserved nothing but punishment and vengeance for his deeds. His fellows had followed his lead when joining the cult's ranks... his only solace was in bringing them out with him as well. It was his fault they were with him like this, blind and despondent in this underground hell, cut off from their gods. He tried to remember the days since past, days when he had been a faithful cleric of Lathander, constantly giving thanks and offering praises in the House of the Morninglord. There had been happiness like nothing he had felt since in those times... he had ministered to so many young acolytes and peasants, bestowing aid to all those in need. His dream had one day been to establish a Temple of Lathander in the town of Trademeet. He had family that lived there... and besides, Waukeen and Lathander could easily coexist in the trading hub.

He had been so close... and then everything had fallen apart. His superiors had denied his request to build the Temple, asking that he remain in his current position for a month or two longer when they would decide whether he was ready or not. He received word that his family had fallen sick and lay close to death in Trademeet. One of the acolytes whom he had been making such progress with had turned away from the House of Lathander, turning instead to... Talos. The Stormlord, sworn enemy of Lathander. It had been too much for him... he could look back now and see that it had been a test of faith, that every one of those this could have turned out well in the hands of the Dawn... but his faith had wavered. He had stalked through the streets of Athkatla, searching for his own meaning.. .and what he had found had instead corrupted him forever.

He remembered the day he lost contact with Lathander... for that moment, it was like an ice had spread through all his veins, almost dropping him where he stood. Even with the Unseeing Eye's power, he had never felt a life like that during his dark priesthood. Perhaps he had known it all the time; known he was following a path to ruin and despair... he was just too afraid to admit it. Guilt overwhelmed his scarred conscience and soul, a sour and bitter taste filling his stomach as he tried to even contemplate the idea of forgiveness. No... he wasn't deserving. He had done nothing to warrant a second chance or a pardon by the powers above, and he would accept his fate and judgment without protest. It was better this way... the scales were balanced, as Helm always ensured.

"Sassar... you look so sad. Cheer up... you won't have anything to worry about for much longer."

That voice froze the blood of all the men there, each one immediately standing and grasping for their weapons, trembling as they faced the entrance to their garrison. Sassar faced the direction he had heard the voice issue from. "Gaal... have you come to kill us?"

There was no answer for a moment... a chuckle escaped the high priest of the Unseeing Eye, an unpleasant sound that sickened Sassar even as it angered him. "I expected you to be dead already... since the three we sent didn't kill you, I can only assume you helped them. And if that's the case... we'll have to deal with them as well. Once they acquire the other half of the rod and bring it back, of course."

"Your master will never possess the whole artifact." Sassar growled. "We'll die before we let you give it to him!"

"Very well then." Gaal replied calmly... four other blind clerics of the Unseeing Eye stepped out, wielding maces and flails with skill and unwavering clarity in their blinded eyes.

Sassar swallowed as he heard their footsteps. He knew the others would be awaiting his move, following his lead like always... _I'm sorry, Keldorn; I couldn't forgive myself. But maybe... just maybe... I can atone; for the others, if no one else. _He raised his quarterstaff, took a deep breath... and charged.

X X X X X X X

"I see you have returned. (And none too soon.)" Edwin remarked with a tug on his cloak as Yoshimo, Aerie and Minsc approached him in his quarters inside Mae'var's guild hall. "Has the Cowled fool been disposed of?"

"Dead and gone." Yoshimo replied easily; the three had taken some time to warm up and return to normal before coming back to Edwin.

"Congratulations are in order then. You have surpassed the exceedingly low expectations I had of you and ascended to the vanguard of goonery!" His thin smile faltered at the confused looks given him, Edwin shaking his head in disgust. "(Surrounded by monkeys.) Either way, this frees us to discuss the true purpose of our meeting."

"What are you talking about?" Minsc frowned. "I do not trust you."

"Whether you trust me or not does not bother or concern me. The man you dispatched was not only keeping tabs on me for the Cowled Wizards, but I suspect he had ties to our mutual employer, Mae'var. His monitoring could have caused problems were he to hear any of what I am about to tell you." Edwin sniffed. "Your bootlicking ways may have fooled Mae'var, but I am far too intelligent to be taken in by such simple-minded tricks. I know why you are really here, and what your purpose is."

Edwin's simple statement of truth took all of them by surprise., though Yoshimo still managed to look both indignant and surprised as he sputtered, "We have no idea what you're talking about, wizard-"

"Oh, please." Edwin snorted. "Does the name Renal Bloodscalp and spy mean anything? You were indeed clever in your moves and disguises, but a Red Wizard sees underneath the surface. I know you were sent by him to find evidence of Mae'var's betrayal and probably to eliminate him once you have done so. (Yes, I thought so.) "

"Do you intend to betray us to Mae'var?" Yoshimo challenged, inwardly calculating how quick the three of them could dispatch Edwin without alerting the Shadow Thieves downstairs.

"Hardly. I am to aid you in your task(a necessity when considering the level of incompetence you have shown so far.)" Edwin withdrew a key from his robes and extended it to Yoshimo. "Downstairs is a strongbox in Mae'var's quarters that contains the documents Renal Bloodscalp will need to damn Mae'var. Once the Bloodscalp sees them, he will be free to eliminate Mae'var."

The sudden change was quite unexpected; Yoshimo took the proffered key with a bit of caution, narrowing his eyes at Edwin. "What do you stand to gain from this?"

"Please. Do you think you are the only ones being paid to step over Mae'var's body? He has one more job for you to perform; I would report to him after securing the documents and then return them to Renal Bloodscalp while you are out on your mission."

The three of them stood there, glancing back and forth as they tried to decipher any hidden meaning or threat in Edwin's words and offer... but eventually Yoshimo nodded and motioned for them to head out. Edwin pictured the strong box below, knowing they would at the very moment already leaving with the documents, speaking with Mae'var and receiving their orders...he sighed, deciding that it had been long enough. They were undoubtedly gone from the guild hall by now, and it would take him less than a few minutes to do what needed to be done. His bright red robe trailed behind him as he descended the stairs and headed for Mae'var's quarters. He allowed himself a slight chuckle of pleasure as he imagined the rude surprise the three adventurers would receive on their return... Mae'var would be well informed of their betrayal before they returned with him as their target.

Not that he wasn't breaking his agreements with anyone... he had aided in Mae'var's ultimate downfall, and even if he repelled this first assassination attempt, Bloodscalp would see him finished off with the documents in his possession. This was simple business on his part. Mae'var would undoubtedly reward him for the information he was providing, and Renal Bloodscalp would have Mae'var's head. But aside from all that, nobody manhandled Edwin Odessiron without retribution. Edwin scowled just slightly as he thought of Minsc... but his face turned into a tight smile as Mae'var came into view.

"Sir... I have some news I think you will be most interested in. (Most interested indeed...)"

X X X X X X X

Imoen's eyes fluttered open, regaining consciousness little by little. Her hearing faded in and out, slowly returning as the sound of Bodhi's hiss echoed in her ears. "Yes…. I feel alive! I... I am whole once more!"

"Then it worked?" Irenicus' voice echoed, slightly doubtful.

"Yes! Your magics have done it! The curse is broken and my life has been restored to me!"

"So…" Irenicus trailed off with an urgently expectant tone to his voice, "If Imoen has freed you from your curse, then Greywulf should be more than adequate for my own affliction. I am pleased."

_Greywulf?_ The name echoed through Imoen's mind like a memory just out of reach, and she could not quite recall who they spoke of. _I remember Bodhi, Irenicus, pain… but nothing else. Why?_

Her painful thoughts were interrupted by Irenicus again, "We will need her alive if Greywulf will come."

"He would come were she alive for rescue or dead for vengeance." Bodhi retorted... the words chilled Imoen's bones as she lay there, awaiting her fate.

"Yes, but live bait is so much more... enticing."

_Bait? For…Greywulf? Don't know. Don't care. I feel so…empty inside._

Imoen fought back tears that threatened to well up in her half-open eyes, but she shivered once, bringing her to the attention of the two outside her now open cell.

"So, the accursed one is awake." Irenicus said cruelly, turning to the curled up girl on the cell floor.

"You are lucky Irenicus wants you alive, young one." Bodhi said softly, slowly stalking over to Imoen's side, the confused girl now looking around with fear and terror.

"What… did you do to me?" she stuttered, staring into the eyes of the vampire beside her.

Bodhi did not answer, but merely stroked Imoen's shoulder, her body cold and empty. She hissed once then whispered, "Nothing you need to worry about, child. I would worry more for yourself... for your own sanity."

The vampire's dark eyes met Imoen's, her power overcoming any remaining barriers Imoen had put up, pushing further and deeper into the girl's already fractured consciousness... Imoen screamed and collapsed to the ground; all thoughts of Greywulf, Irenicus and Bodhi flying away in the abyss of her mind.


	27. Part 1: Honor Among Thieves

A twitch here... a sniff there. The gruesome face, teeth dripping with black, sticky saliva and smelling of putrid flesh... it was enough to make any normal person scream at the very least; the fact that at least two dozen owners of this kind of face were all stalking through the area would make the most hardened warrior or mage toss their proverbial cookies. The closest demon to the three adventurers craned its head behind him, its yellow eyes narrowing as it sighted them. In any normal circumstance involving dozens of blood-thirsty demons and three sorely outmatched adventurers, it would be less a question of if they could survive, but more of which demon would get the first kill in. This however... was not a normal situation.

"Keep moving... slow and steady, that's it." Keldorn's teeth were clenched as he took point in their single-file line, trudging at a snail's pace. Keldorn had seen so many things in his days as a paladin: demons, dragons, lords of the undead and more. Each time Torm had seen fit to bring him out alive after his service was finished... he had given an oath that even if Torm were to let him fall, he would do his duty willingly. Still, his heart thudded against his chest as the fifteenth demon thus far eyed them, the lip of the creature curling up with a guttural rumble as drool slid down and out of its maw. A thoroughly evil sight.. and still, the closest thing to evil he could sense was rage.

_"An angry bear that mauls you is just as dangerous even though it's not evil." _Jaheira's warning before they had started their slow path rang in his head, Keldorn trying to keep the singular possibility that such thinking lead to from his mind. He had not drawn the Hallowed Redeemer from its sheath yet; provoking any of the beasts around by drawing steel would not be wise, especially since every beast so far had given them the barest of glances before turning away again... there. The one which had just growled a bit finally stopped staring, a simultaneous exhale of relief coming from all three adventurers as they continued moving.

"If we ever get out of this, I'll never complain about being in a good old sewer tunnel again." Greywulf whispered, grunting just a bit as Jaheira elbowed him harshly. Keldorn arched one eyebrow with a slight tugging upward at the corner of his mouth. He had trained hundreds of squires and knights; in every bunch, there was always a fast-talking, joke-cracking youth who took everything far too lightly and never paid enough attention to their surroundings or mission. Nine out of ten of them ended up dying for some foolish mistake that could have been avoided. The last one out of ten usually ended up one of the best warriors Keldorn had ever had the pleasure of teaching.

"How much farther do you think? Twenty, twenty-five yards?" Jaheira's accented voice murmured up to Keldorn, the paladin quickly judging the distance in his head.

"A little less than twenty. Do you want to make a run at it?"

"Not particularly. But Greywulf makes a point... if the demons wanted to wait until we were far enough in to rule out retreating before attacking, it's been ten paces since." she said.

Keldorn did not answer for a few moments; he studied the location of the closest demons, how heavy the doors on the Temple looked... "Five more paces, then we move."

The pair behind him both nodded in acknowledgment, Keldorn turning his head back in front, counting the first step with an inhalation of breath, the second with an exhale. Inhale on the third... exhale on the fourth. Inhale on the fifth...

Keldorn whipped the Hallowed Redeemer from its sheath with a beautiful song of steel, ringing strong in the cave chamber. His legs immediately pitched himself forward alongside Greywulf and Jaheira. He did a half-turn as he ran, pushing himself backwards as they reached the Temple door, guarding them against any demons that blitzed them, hoping to give the other two time to open the demolished doors so they could slip inside... but he allowed himself a quick shake of the head as he lowered the sword he carried to a relaxed position. The demons had not fixed them in their sights, not bared their teeth and claws and prepared to render them limb from limb with a charge of fur and claws. One or two looked at them with what could be considered indifference, then went back to their monotonous pacing. Still, as soon as Greywulf and Jaheira had pushed the doors open, he slipped inside with them, shutting the heavy portal.

Inside was a double stair on each side of the room, leading up to a high platform with a large altar bowl atop it. In the bottom section of the room, symbols on the ground had been defaced and destroyed, with no chance of recognition. Temple instruments and tools were scattered about the floor, covered with dust and rust from lack of use. What once had been beautiful and intricate was dirty and forgotten; the very structure seemed to be ready to fall at any time... though more than earthly power kept this building up, that much was certain.

As they moved further into the dimly lit structure, their weapons once more at the ready, a rush of wind swept through and around them, chilling them to the bone. They quickly came together, joining together in a circle formation to protect themselves from whatever new danger presented itself to them. A low moan reverberated throughout the room, echoing from each wall with no clue to the source. Greywulf bowed his head and began chanting, a spatter of energy enveloping the room with the power of True Sight, but still nothing was forthcoming. Only when the wind died down, letting the dust settle and the small pieces of debris fall to the ground did something new happen. A ghostly figure glowed into existence; the shape of a man in armor, but so faded and worn, they could barely make him out. What they could see of the specter was scarred and tattered, its armor scratched and barely holding together; it was in little better state of repair than the temple itself.

The unearthly vision eyed them with what looked like alarm on its wispy face, pointing a bony finger at them. "_Holddd... intrudersss in this house of worship... declare your purposeee..."_

They hesitated for a moment; Greywulf eventually stood forward and spoke. "We are here for the half of the artifact that lies here... we were told it could be used to destroy an evil that threatens above. What manner of spirit are you?"

_"I... I am the avatar of the god of this templeee... avatar of Amaunator. If you seek the roddd... you will not find it. You may have passed my followers outsideee... but I shall not yield to you."_

"Your followers?" Greywulf asked cautiously. "I saw no worshippers or acolytes out there... only demons of the Abyss."

The eyes of the avatar narrowed in suspicion, he stretched out his hand to the ceiling, words of divine origin tumbling from his mouth. Greywulf glanced over at the others with a hint of worry in his eyes, drawing his cloak close as the incantations drew to a close...

The avatar's hand dropped, his face low and in mourning as it sighed, the sound a tearful and mourning noise that could inspire nothing but sorrow and grief. _"You... you speak the truthhh... what you saw out thereee... that was once my priesthooddd... though I see they have not been so for many years. The children who once served me have rejected me... I have become an object of loathing rather than worship…"_

"What happened to them?" Keldorn frowned.

_"I see now what has taken placeee... it is the bargain they were entered into." _the avatar sighed. _"I and my followers were charged this duty, to 'serve until the end of time', guarding this artifact, or at least half of it. They agreed to it… and they are performing their duties… the duties they knew they would have to perform."_

_"But gradually I felt my power fade and wane over the ages... I felt it was simply that my time had ended after the Time of Troubles. I… did not suspect the truth. Those who once sustained me as I sustained them began to loathe their duties more and moreeee; their anger and hate has manifested itself upon themselves. The darkness inside them has come out on their physical forms and feeds upon their anger and disgusssst."_

"Is there nothing than can be done?" Greywulf asked.

_"They have lost their belief in meee... I can do nothing for them in this ssstate. Our contract was specific... only if we were no longer to guard the rod would I be free... free to release them and heal them as wellll."_

"That is what we came for." Jaheira cut in. "We need the half of the rod you possess. There is a great beholder who possesses the second half and seeks this one as well. We hoped to use this half against him before bringing the whole back here."

The avatar was silent for a few seconds, staring at them as though uncertain of their statement. Finally, it seemed to intensify, the avatar standing tall. _"Perhapsss... perhaps we may help each other in this matter. Listen, and I will explain."_

_"The gods hid this artifact here... hid it because of its power... that power hasss diminished over time. It might be safe enough to hide upon Mount Celestialll... if the gods would consider it in danger on Toril."_

"And if the rod were completed, it would be considered in danger." Greywulf finished. "You want us to put the rod together so that the gods will take it home."

"Which would allow you and your followers to be released as well." Keldorn said with a nod and a smile. "A sound idea."

"Do you truly think it will work?" Jaheira inquired. "Will the gods pay such attention to a long forgotten artifact?"

_"They will have no choice... Helm would not let this pass without his judgment. Complete the rod... but I warn all of you not to ussse it. If you do, you risk letting it consume youuu."_

"I swear, we shall not fail in what you have asked of us." Keldorn said, bowing to the avatar.

_"Then it is enough."_ The specter nodded; with a wave of his hand, a flash appeared in the offering bowl upon the altar. Inside was the rod half that had been spoken of. It was not much to see, only a short rod, with inscriptions and runes upon the side. Still, the moment it was felt in the hand it was apparent that it was no earthly item. Pulsing with an otherworldly power, truly the might of the gods coursed through the item as Greywulf slipped it into his pack, the three adventurers leaving.

The avatar stood alone in the darkened temple hall, a faint glimmer of hope finally sparkling in the spirit's ethereal eyes.

X X X X X X X

"The Sea's Bounty... that's where Mae'var said this 'Embarl' would be. Do you know where this tavern is?" Aerie asked as they stepped out into the darkening day, the sun setting over the ocean.

"Actually, I do... though the drinks leave something to be desired there." Yoshimo affirmed. "It is quite close. Over there, near the docks market. See the one with the dead fish mounted on the doorframe? That's it."

"That's disgusting!" Aerie said with revulsion as she stared at the rotting fish hanging above the door.

"Perhaps, though their clientele does not seem to mind." Yoshimo shrugged.

"And what type of clientele is that?" Aerie frowned.

"Take a guess." Yoshimo tossed behind him with a chuckle as they entered the bar.

Rowdy men of all sorts were scattered about, most obviously inebriated, some still on their way. Numerous sailors and fishermen were at the bar and the stairway, the sound of breaking glass and rowdy brawling echoing through the entire bar. Songs of the pirate life and bones on a dead man's chest filled the air as they pushed their way through the crowds, Minsc's bulk enough to give them a bit of breathing space as they headed toward the barkeep. A young waitress in a red and white checkered top sauntered up to Minsc and tossed a wink up at him. "My, but yer quite the big man... what can I do for you, hmm?"

"Minsc is looking for someone." the ranger glanced down at her. "Perhaps you could help us."

"I imagine I can... lotsa people in here lookin for someone. If'n you want to come with me, I can show you a good- hold on. Is that a rat yer holding?"

"A rat?" Minsc looked slightly miffed at the cautious woman as he held Boo up closer to her. "By no means! Boo is a hamster! No ordinary one either, a miniature giant space hamster!"

"Er... you'll have to get rid of the mouse before we can do nothin..." the waitress said with a disbelieving eye. "That thing's probably got fleas and all kinds of diseases on it."

"What?" Minsc said in shock. "Boo is ashamed to hear that you think he might have fleas. He has very good hygiene! And again, he is a hamster, not a mouse! A miniature giant space one!"

"Fine then... you can take yer rat and leave, cause I ain't touchin ya." the woman shuddered and turned away, disappearing back into the crowd of people before them.

"Is it so hard to remember that Boo is a Space Hamster?!!" Minsc shouted back at the disappearing woman. "And why does Boo's presence keep you from helping us find this Embarl? That is who were looking for, yes? We... what's that, Boo? She was talking about what? Eh... you're right, I think it best she did not help us."

"Minsc, stop flirting with the waitresses and help us search." Yoshimo said with a laugh even as he ducked a hurtling bottle, finally pushing up to the barkeep, who looked like he had been dipping a bit too much into his own ale.

"Excuse me... do you know of a man named Embarl who has come in through here lately?" Yoshimo asked him. His only reply was a slurred curse and a request to buy him an ale; Minsc turned and eyed the room from his height, scanning the crowd... a fluttering cloak caught the ranger's eye, a frightened looking man racing up the stairs to the second story of the bar.

"We see him." Minsc said confidently. "Yoshimo, Aerie! Hurry before he gets away!"

They pressed through the drunken crowd and hurried up the stairs... Aerie bumped into a man waiting by the bottom of the staircase, a man cloaked and hooded with a craggy and older face, glaring at her and the others. "I'm sorry... excuse me." she mumbled, the man not bothering to reply. His gaze didn't leave them as they continued up, his eyes narrowed as he studied their number... he averted his eyes as soon as Aerie glanced back down at him, the elf frowning in uncertainty.

"Something wrong, Aerie?" Yoshimo asked, noting her abrupt slowing.

"No, its just…never mind. It's probably nothing."

They ascended to the upper floor, which was not much better than the lower floor. The room was still covered in booze and filled with raucous cries for more ale. Fanning about the room slowly, Minsc spotted their prey quickly and motioned to the others. They closed in on him as one, finding him standing in the corner of the room and draped in shadow, though from his expression he looked too frightened to be much of a threat to anyone. Striding up to face him, Yoshimo greeted him with his usual cheer. "Your name wouldn't be Embarl, would it?"

Embarl looked Yoshimo and the others up and down for a second, trying to put up a tough front as he replied, "M…maybe. Who wants to know?"

Yoshimo grinned even wider as he grabbed the man by the arm with one hand and put a knife to the man's side quickly with the other. "We have business to discuss, you and I."

His eyes grew wide in unspoken terror, as Yoshimo quickly led him out along with Minsc and Aerie close behind. They brought him to an out of the way alley, where Yoshimo stepped up to confront him, Minsc and Aerie blocking the exit.

"You're…you're here to kill me, right?" Embarl moaned, backing away to the solid end of the alley. "Please, tell Mae'var it was all a mistake! I didn't mean to eavesdrop! I'm loyal, really!"

"Mae'var gave us orders to kill a spy... a spy with your name." Yoshimo stroked his chin. "What were you spying on?"

"Are you… not going to kill me?" Embarl asked, still shaking.

"Tell us what you know and perhaps you might live." Yoshimo said as he put the knife to the man's neck, drawing it across ever so lightly.

"I… I was walking past Mae'var's quarters a week ago, and I overheard voices. I was walking away, really...but then I heard them bring up Renal Bloodscalp. Mae'var... he was talking about an assassination plot to take him out! I didn't mean to, I just happened to hear it, that's all! I tried to leave, but I accidentally knocked over a vase while I was hurrying out; Mae'var must have saw me running away! He's ordered my execution and I've been hiding out ever since, just waiting for someone like you to come and finish me off! Please, I won't tell anyone else! Let me go!"

"We don't have to kill him, do we?" Aerie asked Yoshimo, her eyes pleading not to perform the gruesome murder. "He's done nothing deserving of death... and he could even help us if we can bring him to Renal Bloodscalp."

"Aerie is right." Yoshimo said after a moment of deliberation. "You must come with us to Renal Bloodscalp and tell him your story. He will protect you."

"No! He'll think I'm the one sent to kill him. My only hope for safety is to get out of the city now!" Embarl cried.

"If Mae'var discovers we let you live..." Yoshimo said cautiously, Embarl's eyes widening as the thief thought it over... "All right. We will let you go, but we must prove to Mae'var you are dead. Give us your Shadow Thief dagger."

Embarl quickly drew the weapon from his belt sheath and handed it to Yoshimo with quavering hands, obviously relieved.

"Now get out of Athkatla and never return."

Embarl dashed out of the dark alleyway, splashing through the puddles of the docks as he disappeared into the dark, brooding streets of the city night. Yoshimo watched his disappearing form for a second before sliding the dagger into his belt carefully, motioning for the others to follow him as he began the journey back towards Renal Bloodscalp's guild hall.

"I'm glad we didn't kill him." Aerie sighed. "Doing these jobs for the Shadow Thieves... I know it's for a good end by getting the money to rescue Imoen... but I don't like the means at all."

"It is a fact of the adventuring life." Yoshimo said with a grimace, looking about as they walked. "You will find that much of what you do as an adventurer will depend on what you value most, your principles and morals, or what is best for you physically and profitably. It is a hard lesson to learn…I am ashamed to say I have learned it; I pray you never have to."

"W…what happened?" Aerie inquired.

_Rain crashed down in sheets as lightning flashed across the sky from above alongside booming peals of thunder... it was still not enough to drown out the anguished cries and sobs of the Kara-Turan thief as he knelt in the back streets of one of the alleys in the city. A petite body was cradled in his arms, the blood from her deadly wounds mixing with the rain as it drenched the two of them. His face, covered in tears, blood and rain, shook with anguish as he brushed one lock of her jet-black hair from her face. "Forgive me... please forgive me..."_

Yoshimo's eyes flashed as the memory jolted through his memory, quickly looking back at Aerie's expectant face. He grimaced, turning away slightly. "Please… I cannot speak of it. Not now; you will find out later, I promise."

Aerie nodded with acceptance as Minsc held the door for the two of them as he watched behind them, ensuring nobody saw their entrance back to Renal Bloodscalp's headquarters. It didn't take long for them to find themselves before the Bloodscalp himself once more, looking up with a smile from a table containing multiple plans and parchments.

"Well! If it isn't Yoshimo and his merry little band. Bless me if I wasn't counting the spoils of a recent excursion and thought about all of you and how you must be doing. It brought a smile to my face... please don't make that smile leave. Tell me you've found good news?"

"Depends on what you consider good news." Yoshimo shrugged, handing the scroll to Renal Bloodscalp, who after looking at the seal, pulled it open and read the parchment.

"Well, that's interesting." he said, tucking the scroll away after finishing. "It seems Mae'var has been making overtures to the Night Knives organization, hoping to strengthen his own power base. If he can get rid of me, they'll support his organization from here to Waterdeep. If your map skills are a bit lacking, I'll have you know that's quite a large chunk of the establishment."

"The Night Knives... I don't believe I've heard of them." Yoshimo frowned as he thought.

"No reason for you to have. They're just a gang of cutthroats and common thieves who attract enough hoodlums that they can actually be a power by sheer numbers. Not that they have any real power." Renal waved the subject off. "I sincerely doubt the Shadow Masters would approve of this little deal on Mae'var's part. Well done, one and all!"

"My thanks, sir." Yoshimo said with a bow. "May I assume that our business is now concluded and we may be receiving our reward?"

"What, so eager to leave? No desire for chit-chat, a friendly game of cards?" Renal asked in mock surprise. "No, I suppose you've all had just about enough of this cloak and dagger business. Still, until Mae'var is eliminated, this mission is still on. And your payment is still withheld, for that matter."

"Let's just get it over with then." Aerie sighed.

"I see you're not one for the cutthroat life, Aerie." Renal said sympathetically to the elf. "If you so desire, you might remain here while your two companions see to this bloody task... posing as members of his organization should allow you to get close enough to kill him without too much struggle... I doubt he'll ever see it coming."

"No... no, I'll go with them." Aerie shook her head, glancing at Minsc who was obviously unwilling to leave her no matter what decision she made.

"Are you certain?" Renal asked.

"I... I have to." Aerie said firmly. "I'll just have to get through it."

"You have a brave spirit, my dear." Renal bowed slightly. "I have all the respect in the world for you. Be on your way then and return soon... your reward is well in hand and waiting."

X X X X X X X

"Our men report the three of them have just left the Shadow Thief Headquarters... they look like they're on their way here."

Mae'var nodded to the man and waved him away, the thief quickly returning to his post in the guild hall above. Mae'var sighed, fingering the amulet of the Weathermistress that had been brought to him by the three traitors. It was quite the expensive piece... but it left kind of a sour feeling in his gut, knowing that the three who had brought it to him had been playing him all the time, always intent on delivering his head to Renal Bloodscalp. Not that he hadn't been looking into their backgrounds ever since they arrived for any ties to the Bloodscalp. There had been no hard evidence... at least, not until he had a bit of help. A few bits here and there, more specifically Edwin letting him know of their past loyalties and deeds.

The pirate gear they wore at present was enough to throw off most people's descriptions, but their weapons were still the same. The big ranger with the axes and two-handed sword, the thief with the katanas and the cleric-mage elf who had been involved at the De'Arnise Keep... the same crew who had helped take down Lehtinan at the Coronet. He had previously had dealings with the slave trade there... a shame he hadn't caught these meddling mercenaries sooner. Still, he hadn't take Edwin's word by itself. A bit more confirmation would be appreciated... confirmation he had just received. He smirked unkindly as he glanced over at the fidgeting man in the corner of the room.

"It appears you were correct... the three of them were just spotted leaving Renal Bloodscalp. I suppose I should congratulate you, Embarl."

"I told you I was loyal, Mae'var." Embarl said, smiling despite the nervousness apparent on his face. "Soon as I heard what they were doing, I came straight here to let you know."

"Yes indeed... you could've sold me out to Renal Bloodscalp or taken their offer and left Athkatla, where even I would have had a hard time finding you. And yet you came back, proving your fealty to my cause. Such devotion."

Mae'var approached Embarl and put one hand on the thief's shoulder. "Anything you may have done wrong is forgiven, Embarl."

"So... you're not mad about anything from before?" he said with a relived smile.

"No, no..." Mae'var said soothingly. "You've more than proven yourself to me. I owe you my gratitude... in fact, I feel I should reward you."

Embarl began to shake his head no, Mae'var waving it off. "I owe you something for all you've done... you lost your Shadow Thief dagger to the mercenaries, right? Perhaps I should replace it for you..."

Mae'var's hand tugged the Shadow Thief dagger he had on his belt from the sheath and swung it out, pushing it deep into Embarl's chest as he spun the thief into it with his other hand. Embarl gasped in shock as Mae'var jerked the dagger back out, Embarl dropping to his knees as red rapidly spread across the front of his tunic. His whole body shook as he looked back at Mae'var, the man wiping the blood of the dagger nonchalantly. He glanced down at Embarl, who mouthed one word, betrayal written all over his face.

"Why?" Mae'var repeated, genuine surprise on his face. "You were willing to betray those mercenaries to me, correct? That makes you untrustworthy. You did not escape when you had the opportunity. That makes you a fool."

Mae'var knelt down by Embarl as he finally collapsed on his side, his final breath leaving him. "And I have no tolerance for fools I cannot trust."

X X X X X X X

Jaheira clenched her spear tight, giving her head a quick shake to toss a stray braid of hair from her vision. Glancing over at Keldorn and Greywulf, both men also with weapons at ready. She quickly ran through all possible situations and outcomes of their current situation... none of them seemed particularly favorable. Things had been going much as they had before; after leaving the Temple they had been a little more at ease, remembering the utter disinterest the transformed worshippers had shown before. They had actually picked up their pace a bit, the thought of getting back down to Sassar and finally taking some rest spurring them on a bit more.

They had made it back to the middle of the path leading from the staircase to the Temple, passing by each demon without problem and feeling that things were turning their way... when one of the demons passing by glanced down and lurched away in surprise, a snarl echoing from its mouth. The other demons quickly converged, surrounding them before they could do much in response. The object of their attention... the half-rod that hung at Greywulf's belt. The sound of their roars and chittering was almost deafening and here they were, trying to find some way out of this. Even as Jaheira pushed her spear out a bit, trying to keep the demons at a distance, a half-screech, half shriek came from one of the creatures before them.

Looking at the source, they saw one of the demons clutch its side, the beast dropping to one knee as it shrunk before their sight. The metamorphosis was as unpleasant to watch as it was to listen to; when finished a man in tattered robes of the avatar's clerics was standing before him, his red eyes glaring heavily at the rod. "You... you have taken the rod from its holy resting place!! Impossible! How did you do this!!"

"It is the will of your lord that this be done." Keldorn said. "When we are finished with this, the gods will take the rod from Toril... and you will be freed from your torment."

The man looked at Keldorn, as though scarce daring to believe him... he roared in disgust; a fairly feral roar. "Lies!! All of it... we shall never be freed… and you will never take the rod!!"

The man hunkered over, the transformation beginning once more. There was no longer any question as to their intentions... one made a lunge at Greywulf even as the roars started anew. Jaheira lunged out with her spear, impaling the claw of the beast as it drew back in pain. Greywulf flashed one palm outward, a wave of magic opening a small path for them to get through. Keldorn took lead, swinging the Hallowed Redeemer in large side sweeps, cutting the nearby demons and driving them away as their blitz pushed out of the circle of defenders. They immediately bolted for the stairway, the demons behind them in close pursuit.

They descended as fast as possible without tripping and tumbling the great distance down, but it was clear they were losing the battle of speed. Jaheira glanced behind her to see the demon pursuers far closer than they could have hoped, within a half-minute of catching up to them. "Faster!" she shouted; the men needed no other words.

In the far distance, deep below them they could just barely make out the bottom of the stairway... and it was moving. Jaheira's eyes widened as she realized just what was down there... the horde of shades and shadow fiends had returned to await them, swarming over each other like rats as they watched them descend. Even if they reached bottom before the clerics of the Temple, the hundreds of shadows at bottom would surely devour them... Jaheira's mind raced as she tried to figure something out-

"Jaheira! We need something to hold onto!" she heard Greywulf's cry just before he started his incantations. She immediately began her own, chanting as best she could as they continued their descent. His spell activated first; from his hands jutted forth a Cone of Cold, laying a sheet of frozen stair and ice under their feet and on the stairway above. Her feet abruptly slid on the ice as it coated the stairs from top to bottom, sending all three of them hurtling down the slope toward the hungry shadows.

Her spell exploded into action, an Entangle sending vines and roots bursting through the ice and stairs by them, Jaheira desperately grasping for one of the anchor points. The spell did it for her, wrapping around her arm as well as Keldorn's and Greywulf's... suspended on the slick ice sheet at least another sixty feet above the shadows. Jaheira looked up above them, quickly pushing her body to the side... the dozens of demons slid just past their positions, clawing at the slick ice sheet but unable to slow their own fall. Their howls echoed back up to them as they impacted at the bottom... amongst the swarm of shadows. There was silence for a few seconds... with a roar of rage from the demons, war broke out below. Watching the giant demons tear into the thousands of shades, the undead beasts clawing and biting at their new opponents, Jaheira exhaled in exhaustion.

"Good save." she breathed to Greywulf, glancing at the fierce combatants below.

"Same to you." he returned. "How long do you want to wait before we join the party?"

He followed her gaze, grunting slightly as he tried to relieve the pressure the vine holding him up there was putting on his arm. "Depends, I guess. Keldorn?"

"Not exactly... the most comfortable of positions." he managed, holding his sword close to his body as he shifted his body to slide down the ice into a position he could defend from. "Still... perhaps a few more seconds."

Greywulf nodded to Jaheira and she held her breath, counting off the ticks of time around them as they waited for that moment... at Jaheira's mental command, the vines released their grip, sending them back down their slide to the bottom at breakneck speed. The second Keldorn reached the bottom, he pushed himself off the ice sheet with his legs, lunging out to strike away two shadows who were charging a demon from behind. Greywulf and Jaheira were right behind him, both fighting through the numerous battles with their respective talents. Jaheira batted aside a shadow fiend to follow behind Keldorn as he struggled onward, only to have three wraiths hiss as they swept in front of her, eyeing her with malice. She flipped her spear to guard, readying for the attack... a gigantic red bodied demon barreled into the wraiths, sending all of the combatants flying out of her path. She darted forward alongside Greywulf, the sorcerer with his back to hers, tossing out dozens of Magic Missiles to knock back any shadow that tried to follow them.

A shout of triumph from Keldorn spurred them to start running harder as they finally broke through the main lines of battle, clearing open space. They kept running, passing shadows and wraiths that were heading to the main battle they had left behind, only dispatching those who tried to stop their retreat. Jaheira spared one look of gratitude at Greywulf as they went; this was exactly the kind of thing she had come to expect from him, and yet somehow never see coming. Ridiculously conceived ideas at the last minute to save them... a creativity that seemed impossible at times. Still... a tight smile graced her features as they kept moving, the adrenaline fueling them as they ran. The man could defy all logic and really irritate the hell out of her sometimes... but she was blessed to be with him, in both battle and peace.

Their retreat lasted nearly an hour as they kept moving, slowing but never ceasing as they kept hiking, unwilling to cease even as the sounds of the titanic battle still came echoing back to their current position. Greywulf tossed a glance Keldorn's way, ensuring that the older man was still keeping up, but the paladin showed no sign of exhaustion except for the sweat that covered all their faces. How he kept up without sign or appearance of weakness was beyond him... Greywulf caught himself marveling at the man once more, feeling the rapidly spreading weakness in his body pushing him to his very limits, despite his youth. And here Keldorn was, unfazed by their run... or at least not enough to show it.

Keldorn gazed upward with both relief and satisfaction as the stair leading back up to the chamber that Sassar and his men guarded came into view around the final turn of the subterranean cavern. The sight granted new strength to their legs and bodies, allowing them to move a bit faster as they neared the exit to this underground hell. He watched Jaheira near Greywulf, the druid asking him some question... he couldn't quite hear what either said, but by the annoyed look on her face, he guessed it was some joke or witticism that Greywulf had replied with. She pushed him on ahead of her, Keldorn smiling wryly. Jaheira may have been annoyed by Greywulf's devil-may-care attitude... but the respect and care he saw in her eyes when she glared or rolled her eyes at him was definitely there. Her will was strong... and the number of men he had met or trained who showed her kind of determination and strength were few. He glanced at Greywulf, hoping the lad knew just how lucky he was to have Jaheira at his side.

After their harrowing escape at the entrance to the Temple, these particular stairs were nothing more than a breather for the three of them, ascending at a fairly relaxed pace, allowing themselves the satisfaction of their victory; by the time they had reached the top, their wind, courage, and energy was restored. Greywulf stepped forward, noting Sassar standing at the far side of the dimly lit room, his back to them. The torches were all but out; not surprising, Greywulf reasoned. The sorcerer stepped forward, calling out. "Sassar! We've returned... and we did what you asked. We found the rod!"

"Excellent... and now you'll give it to me." Greywulf's blood froze at the voice... Sassar was pushed to the ground, on his knees as he was whirled to face them. Gaal had him by one shoulder, keeping him up even as the blind man wheezed for breath.

"Sassar..." Keldorn whispered in sorrow, noting the bodies of all the others littered behind Gaal. Four other clerics of the Unseeing Eye stood in the shadows, blood dripping from their weapons. Sassar was in a terrible state... the side of his face was covered in gashes like a flail had tore across him. His rasps were forced and heavy... his side was covered in blood, the flesh visible under the torn robes was crushed and mangled from being slammed into with a mace.

"I'm sorry, Keldorn... so sorry." the blind cleric coughed, unsteady on his knees as he wavered, held up by Gaal.

"Release him and I will try to ease your suffering as you leave this earth." Jaheira spat.

"As you wish..." Gaal shrugged, stepping away from Sassar as the man slowly began to sag to the ground... Gaal's quarterstaff swung out to crack against the back of Sassar's head, sending him rolling across the floor to Keldorn's feet.

Keldorn dropped to one knee aside the dying man, hurriedly feeling for any heartbeat or sign he might be saved... "Keldorn... I-I can feel..."

"What is it, Sassar?"

"I... I can... Lathander. I... can feel... Lathander again. So... so warm... I'd for- I'd forgotten..."

Sassar's head dropped to the stone floor, the faintest hint of a smile on his cracked and bloody lips.


	28. Part 1: Absolute Power

_Author's Note: Wow... what do you know, I managed to get one more chapter in before Christmas!(Well, about 10 minutes before Christmas, anyway.) Sorry for misleading all the people I told otherwise. Whew... lots of action and fight scenes in the last few chapters, I know. I didn't actually like the Unseeing Eye quest in-game, myself. Well, at least not without the Shield of Balduran. For those wondering and patiently waiting, we'll be getting back to some good old actual party interaction soon enough. Hope everybody has a Merry Christmas, gets lots of rest, and drinks plenty of eggnog. Or tea, soda, coffee(for the college students like me), whatever your personal preference. If you'd like to leave me a review as a Christmas present(heh), I'd welcome it. If not, consider this my present to you. Best wishes for the New Year!_

_-Captain Incredible _

Greywulf was not generally described as a serious kind of man. Nine out of ten times someone looked at him, he was either readying a witticism on his lips or already laughing at one. A number of his present and past companions had more than once wondered aloud and usually with a hint of annoyance about his level of maturity compared to his actual age: Ajantis, Kivan, Xan, Dynaheir... most prominently of course, Jaheira. Granted, he wasn't always making wise-cracks in the middle of battle and especially not since Imoen's capture... he could and as of late had been fairly serious in combat. Such taunts were usually reserved for those enemies he felt a certain sense of personal animosity with, dragged out over several battles. Sarevok, Tazok, Daveorn, and most of the assassins who had come after him for the numerous bounties placed on him were all recipients of the wit that so aggravated enemies and allies alike.

Normally, a fanatic like Gaal... well, Greywulf would be working overtime to antagonize the man during their battle. But if there was one way to shut him up, a way that the worst of his opponents had learned... Greywulf's eyes lingered for one more moment over Sassar's lifeless body, blood pooling from his multiple wounds, most prominently the head wound Gaal had just laid upon him.

The sorcerer didn't bother to threaten, didn't take the time to taunt the blind priest... he was just mad. A fireball detonated in the midst of their enemies, scattering the majority and setting aflame one of the slower moving ones. Gaal came up in a roll, a smirk on his face. "Can you imagine the torment awaiting you for defying the true divinity on this earth? Sassar deserved much worse than that... you will wish for a death as easy as his before we are through!"

Ignoring his remarks, Keldorn swept forward with his blade, a maneuver not really designed to hit anyone, just enough to push them off balance and give him more room to work with. This time, it had an added bonus. The frantically rolling cleric on the ground, still trying to put out the flames he was engulfed in, proved to be something of an impediment to the backpedaling others, two nearly tripping over him while the other backed away towards Gaal instead. The off balance clerics were at a sore disadvantage for defending against the spear attacks of Jaheira, one gasping in agony as her attack caught him in the chest. The other had enough presence of mind to swing forward with his flail, the chains wrapping around Jaheira's spear shaft in an attempt to yank it out of her grasp.

The surprisingly quick paladin was already moving again, bringing his sword down in a vertical slash, separating the flail handle from it's head. Keldorn immediately moved to engage the third cleric while the newly weaponless man had just enough time to gape at the state of his flail before the shaft of Jaheira's spear had found his jaw, sending him sprawling to the ground. She moved up quickly to finish the stunned man before her, never seeing the burnt and bloodied cleric rising behind her as she speared her opponent, the man she didn't see preparing to smash his mace down on her unprotected head...

His body suddenly spasmed, convulsing as lightning tore through his system and dropped him permanently. Greywulf lowered his hand and gave Jaheira a quick nod before turning back to Gaal, silently thanking Minsc for the tale of Dynaheir's capture. Gaal snarled as he erupted upward with a swing of his staff, coming within inches of taking Greywulf's head off. Still, inches were inches and Greywulf's head remained perfectly intact, along with his ability to parry. The weapon he held came across to slam Gaal's staff to the side, Greywulf already spitting out a few arcane words and sending five Magic Missiles into Gaal's body. Gaal stumbled backward with each bullet of magic impacting, dropping to one knee with a feral grin as he looked at the stone-faced sorcerer approaching again.

"The Unseeing Eye is all-powerful! His will is supreme, fool! Burn for your transgressions!!" Gaal raised his arms and brought down a pillar of flame from the skies to strike Greywulf, the sorcerer only deflecting it with a hastily summoned shield, the effort enough to keep him at bay for the moment. It was enough time for Gaal to summon two skeletons from the earth, their swiftly animating bodies wielding rusted swords and bucklers. Their empty eyed stares immediately moved to intercept Keldorn and Jaheira, halting them from aiding Greywulf against the powerful cult leader.

Even as Greywulf finally pushed away the last of the flame pouring down upon him, Gaal's staff swung forward again, this time landing a solid hit across his ribs with a resounding crack. His eyes widened in pain as he took the blow; despite having received that and worse in his travels, he was still definitely not in his element in melee fighting. Seeing a second attack coming from Gaal in an attempt to finish him off, he ducked his head as well dropped his staff, already making the intricate hand motions necessary for the spellcraft...

Keldorn fought with the skill of a veteran paladin of the Order, finding the skeleton before him more of a nuisance than threat. It's attacks were easily anticipated and deflected; the only problem lay in counterattacking swiftly enough. The skeleton's long sword was a good bit faster than the Hallowed Redeemer, and with a buckler in addition to its constant swings, Keldorn could not quite find the opening to banish the undead back to its rest. Gritting his teeth in irritation as the skeletons blade rang, bouncing off a grazing hit on his armor, Keldorn watched the skeleton wind up for another blow, bringing its sword back behind it. Keldorn took the chance; he copied the action from an opposite perspective, hoping the timing would be close enough. It was; both blades came forward at the same time, colliding in mid swing. However, while Keldorn's blade was magical, hardened steel blessed and forged by Torm himself... the skeleton's weapon was a rusty piece of iron. It shattered, the upper half of the sword flying past Keldorn and clattering against the cavern wall. The skeleton considered its broken weapon for a brief moment before turning back to Keldorn. It caught a quick glimpse of the tight smile on Keldorn's face as the Hallowed Redeemer decapitated it, sending the skull rolling across the floor, the rest of the body collapsing as the mystical energy sustaining it left.

The sound of several sizzling arrows hitting flesh turned his head immediately, eyes tracking to where Gaal and Greywulf were, the blind priest with his staff upraised while Greywulf was crouched on one knee right before him... three flame arrows were sticking out of Gaal's chest, flickering and sizzling as they sat there. Gaal stood still for a moment... before toppling over backwards, landing with a shocked expression on his face as he died. Across the room, the sound of shattering bone was testament to Jaheira's victory as she crushed the skull of the opponent she had fought, the upper half of the undead apparently still trying to clatter over the floor towards her before she had delivered that blow.

The silence that accompanied the short but furious battle was somehow wrong, especially with the bodies of Sassar and his fellow clerics still lying there, murdered by Gaal. The sound of Keldorn's boots and his armor shifting as he knelt beside Sassar's body was the only in the room; the paladin exhaled softly and reached down and clasped Sassar's lifeless hands... a rumble from the stairway leading down to the room echoed through the room, all three adventurers immediately whirling to look for the source. _"Despair, sighted... for death is thy familiar."_

"I think... we might have a problem." Greywulf whispered.

X X X X X X X

"I think…we might have a problem." Yoshimo whispered as he looked at the bar in front of him. They had entered Mae'var's guild hall as usual, their target firmly set in mind. With Renal Bloodscalp's full blessing, Mae'var was now an open target and because of the tasks they had performed, it should have been relatively simple to get close enough to Mae'var to carry out the deed. But as was so often the case... it wasn't even remotely simple.

Gorch, Renal Bloodscalp's spy in the organization and resident barkeep of the guild hall was still at his usual place behind the bar... but he was decidedly less lifelike than the last time they had been here. Slumped over with multiple stab wounds evident and a few knives still stuck in his back, he had never seen his own death coming. Two Shadow Thieves had stepped out from the shadows behind them and had cut them off from the exit while Mae'var and four others had come from the back room.

"Did you really think you could take me by surprise? That all your actions and schemes weren't being monitored from the moment you stepped foot in my guild!?" Mae'var spat at them. "Come, and receive the death you so richly deserve!"

His guards attacked swiftly, driving the three adventurers back to back as lunges and slashes came at them front and back. Yoshimo swung both katanas out to block the two Shadow Thieves who had rushed from behind, shunted one blade away and attempted to bring it back in an upward swing. It was a fraction of a second too late; his target had already moved back and come forward again with a swipe that cut across Yoshimo's arm, driving the thief back to Aerie's position. The elf had conjured a magical barrier to protect herself, though her attention was solely focused on protecting herself and the bounty hunter behind her; with no time to mount a counterattack, she was stationary as she struggled against the two thieves pounding at her shielding. She spared one glance at Minsc, who despite the terrible numerical odds, was still finding time to move on the offensive, the dual abilities of his axes enough to give him something of a even playing field. He had just shunted aside a slash designed to take one of his arms off, moving to counterattack-

A flare of light ignited in the midst of the room, just in front of Mae'var, and nearly on top of the men he had brought with him. Everyone's eyes immediately switched to the new development, Aerie immediately widening her shield to include the ranger a few feet away...

It was as though the entire room had exploded in a miniature sun, flame engulfing everything within sight, pushing hard against Aerie's will as she tried to keep those behind her protected, even the two Shadow Thieves at their flank cowering behind her power while the flame consumed everything else in the room. She could barely see anything in front of her, everything was a blur of flame and heat. Just when she thought she could hold the magic up no longer, it subsided, revealing a burned and wrecked room, the bodies of Mae'var's other men immolated and blackened on the floor before them. Aerie regarded the scene with a frown while Yoshimo and Minsc already turned back to face the two enemies at their rear. The other four were dead, but Mae'var...

She managed a hasty dodge that sent her skidding across the charred remains of the floor, avoiding a leaping slash from Mae'var, the thief master springing from behind the bar where he had apparently taken refuge in the conflagration. It had not granted full protection; burn marks covered his body and face, and blood streamed from his wounds, but the pain had channeled itself into anger, his long sword taking hard and fast swings at her. She pushed herself backward over the floor as he approached again, snarling, drawing back to slash down at her. Aerie felt her hand come over a piece of burning debris on the ground. It was painfully hot to touch, but it might be her only choice...

Aerie flung the wood up at Mae'var, the thief swinging to split in two as it came up at him. Still, the coals and embers in it came through to hit his face, Mae'var screaming as he clutched at his face, wiping the debris away. It was enough time for Aerie; she quickly went about her magics and conjured an ethereal war hammer for herself, finding no room for long range magic attacks. She swallowed her fear and prepared to attack the still half-blinded Mae'var... then quickly remembered one more spell she had memorized.

Mae'var finally cleared his vision, his eyes not just red from the coals and blood anymore. He stepped forward, fixing the elf in his sights as he swung downward, preparing to cleave her from shoulder to hip... the elf's brought her hammer around to block, pushing away with a shunt. Instead of being able to shrug off her little defensive maneuver, he found himself stumbling backwards in the direction she had pushed, knocked into the bar to stop his backward momentum. His eyes narrowed, there was no way this little elf could possess such astounding strength... he spat in understanding. Divine strength. Of course... but she was still no fighter. Circling away from the bar, he watched her movements... then struck again.

Minsc had just killed his opponent when he turned to spy Mae'var and Aerie squaring off. He pushed the dying man before him away and charged, hoping to make the thief choose between defending himself from Minsc's greater threat and leaving himself open to a counter from Aerie, or retreating.

Mae'var chose neither. Minsc's charge had carried him too fast; the thief sidestepped at the last second, slamming his Shadow Thief dagger into Minsc's back as he passed. Minsc stumbled with the wound, the dagger luckily a bit to the right of where his spine should have been. Before Mae'var could close to finish him off, the ranger flung one axe weakly, the magic of the axe strong enough to complete the job Minsc's arm could not do. Stonefire scythed through the air and cut neatly through Mae'var's shoulder, his arm dropping to the ground, still clutching his sword. Mae'var's eyes widened in pain and terror... but by then Aerie had swung her hammer, aiming directly for his head. Mae'var died on impact, slumping to the ground before he could even scream. Turning back to Yoshimo, Aerie saw the thief lying on the stairs breathing heavily, a few wounds adorning his arms, though one particularly bad one ran across his chest. Still, the man he had faced was faring worse, dead at his feet.

Yoshimo managed a pained grin as he waved her back toward Minsc, whispering just loud enough for her to hear. "Don't worry, I should be fine…for another few minutes, anyway."

Aerie ignored the man's weak attempt at humor and quickly gave him a healing potion, the bounty hunter managing to swallow the majority of it while she returned to Minsc. The ranger was leaning in one corner, attempting to pull the knife out of his back.

"Aerie," he said weakly, "Minsc requires assistance. I cannot quite reach the dagger, and Boo is too winded to pull it out. I think I will be needing some healing, and quickly. Boo is… too young to have to avenge me."

Aerie rushed over and with a deep breath, yanked the weapon out of his flesh. The wound began pulsing with new blood, almost sickening Aerie with the sight, but she managed to keep her strength and begin her healing. The flow was staunched within a few minutes, and after another fifteen minutes of healing spells and potions, everyone was at the very least fit for travel and walking. They left the war torn building behind, bloody yet victorious as they headed back towards Renal Bloodscalp's quarters, relieved to have this set of quests finished.

"All in all, a fine job." Yoshimo sighed, limping as he helped support Minsc alongside Aerie. "Though Aerie... the next time you decide to cast a spell like that... please give us some warning."

"Me?" Aerie asked with surprise. "I didn't do it... I thought Mae'var had some mages with him... that maybe you guys got them when I wasn't looking."

"Hmm... I heard no incantations and saw no mages. Minsc?"

Minsc grunted once as he craned his neck down to look at the two with him. "Minsc saw nothing. No evil wizards, no... evil... wizards-"

Minsc pulled away from their grip with a sudden fire in his eyes, clenching his fists tightly. _"Edwin." _

XXXXXXX

Keldorn flew across the room with a force of a half-dozen ogre blows. The blast faded and revealed the source... floating into the room was the Unseeing Eye, a beholder with a entourage of gauths and other beholders following behind it. This was far different though, and easily distinguishable from any of the other eye tyrants nearby. Instead of a large eye in the middle of its orb, there sat a large gouged socket, the eye long since been put out. It was almost twice as large as the other beholders in the room; the difference in power was obvious as well. Long markings of green and red, symbols of arcane origin were tattooed upon the already grotesque orange-brown flesh of the monstrosity. Energy crackled about it as it approached Greywulf, the smaller eyes that sat on the end of its eyestalks fixed squarely upon the sorcerer.

"_The rod_….." Its rumblings echoed through the room as the other beholders and gauths flanked him. "_Give it to me… no one can resist my magic_."

Jaheira darted forward, with her spear already close to the Unseeing Eye, hoping to end this fight quickly... three separate blasts originating from two gauths and a beholder sent her hurtling in the opposite direction, rolling across the floor with curls and wisps of smoke rising from her body.

The other beholders and gauths quickly moved to flank Greywulf, trying to separate him from his two companions; even if they weren't both almost incapacitated, they'd be no help now.

"Give you the rod? Yeah... no." Greywulf snapped back, drawing the rod from his belt. He intended to keep it clutched in one hand while he threw a spell from his other, a Disintegrate maybe, possibly a Lightning Bolt... but he quickly found his body not quite following his brain. He found himself walking toward the beholder, the rod in his hand outstretched; not in some manner of attack position... but as an offering.

Keldorn groaned, his mind and vision clearing enough as he tried to push himself back up to see... "Greywulf!! What are you doing!?"

"I don't… know." he grunted, eyes flashing with panic. "I can't…can't control-"

The Unseeing Eye's eyestalks all suddenly turned toward Keldorn, each pupil narrowing as they focused on the paladin. Each one glowed for a brief moment before peppering him in a hail of magical darts, smashing him back against the wall again in a cloud of dust. The dust began to clear... Keldorn lay unconscious against the wall, his arms limp at his side. The Unseeing Eye seemed to growl in satisfaction before turning back to the approaching sorcerer-

Jaheira flew into view, slamming into Greywulf as she tackled him and sent the two of them in a roll away from the Unseeing Eye. She came up on her knees, resting atop his chest while both of her hands held his wrists in an iron lock in case the beholder had completely dominated him. Her head darted around for the rod in his hand... her eyes widened in horror as she realized it was not there. Both of them immediately looked back... the Unseeing Eye was floating directly above the rod half Greywulf had been holding, licking its lips disgustingly with the promise of expectant power. The artifact floated up, glowing as it rotated around the beholder. From seemingly nowhere, a second piece of rod materialized, the two pieces slowing their orbit around the beholder and coming to rest in front of the Unseeing Eye... they clasped together with a thunderclap of power, a boom enough to shake the entire cavern.

A part of Greywulf desperately hoped to see a divine avatar suddenly materialize, perhaps a giant floating head or a big cloud of smoke that would say a little about how dangerous the rod was and snatch it away, taking the beholders with it. A split-second later... no floating heads. No booming voices declaring how the gods had made this or that decree. Just the three adventurers... and a really ugly sack of flesh floating in front of him, about to take possession of an artifact of terrible power. _Of course... the story of my life. Couldn't be that easy... not my 'destiny', right? I really hate that word._

The Unseeing Eye focused on the rod, seemed almost mesmerized by the divine power crackling around the stone rod and began to draw it to itself, only a few feet away- before it suddenly stopped, jerking the opposite direction. The unexpected occurrence took the beholder by surprise, but not by much. It snarled and immediately reached out with its own magic, halting the progress of the rod.

Jaheira was crouched beside Greywulf, supporting the sorcerer on one knee as he outstretched his hand, magically holding the rod back from the Unseeing Eye's grasp. The beholder gave what could be assumed a snarl of annoyance, increasing its hold over the rod; the artifact slowly began moving back to the beholder, Greywulf's power not enough to hold the rod back. Like some twisted version of tug-of-war, the two magic users stood locked in a battle for possession of the divine instrument. Jaheira looked with concern over at the gauths and beholders.. .but to her suspicion and surprise, none were moving; they dared not get involved in this battle where their master was involved. Still, she had no doubt they would attack at the slightest command from the Unseeing Eye... they could not afford to have Keldorn unconscious at this point.

She left Greywulf's side to kneel by Keldorn's body, muttering her own spells and incantations, the power of her magics entered his body and slowly rejuvenated him... his eyes slowly opened, every muscle in his body wanting to fall back down and sleep... Keldorn pushed himself back up, clutching the blade in his hand as his attention fixed on the struggle of wills before them.

At first it might have seemed an even contest... but the beholder was old. Powerful. A creature whose abilities and skills had done nothing but increase over the centuries... it would not be denied. Inch by inch, the rod kept moving back to the Unseeing Eye.

_No! I can't fail, not now. If it gets the rod... all is lost, Imoen, Dynaheir, Khalid, Sassar, all for naught. I cannot fail!_

Greywulf renewed his grip on the rod, rising to his feet as he did, looking the beholder straight in the eyes as their battle of wills continued. The Unseeing Eye grunted in surprise at the power Greywulf commanded but merely roared louder, giving ground on the rod to send a shock wave out, intending to knock Greywulf aside. Greywulf raised one hand and deflected the blast, but at cost as well, giving back the ground the beholder had lost. They continued for what seemed like an eternity... Keldorn glancing at Jaheira with a knowing glance. Perhaps if one of them could distract the Unseeing Eye... give Greywulf the distraction necessary to take the rod back... but even if he got it, the other beholders could wipe them out easily. It looked hopeless... without warning, the beholder released its grip.

Before the rod had even hit Greywulf's shocked hand, the Unseeing Eye was rumbling with power, a fury of light and magic swirling around it as the awesome might of the beholder was unleashed. Time seemed to slow for the sorcerer... he had maybe one second before he was wiped out by the Unseeing Eye. Greywulf reached down inside for the last of his magic, trying to find something, anything to protect him from the annihilation that would follow such an attack; but instead he touched…_ something else._

The fiery inferno consumed Greywulf, obscuring him with power and magic. Jaheira's eyes widened in horror at seeing him engulfed in the blaze... her promise to Gorion snapped without thought before her eyes. Her powerlessness and sorrow would not stay long; Jaheira had long since learned how to deal with grief and any other feeling she was unable to handle for long... turn it into something useful. In this instance? Rage. Anger. Lay out the righteous vengeance that was so justly deserved, no matter the cost- The beam of intense magic faded, revealing the visage of Greywulf standing before them. In his eyes was a glowing intensity that Jaheira had only seen once before… in the Undercity of Baldur's Gate. _Silvanus, no- the taint... it's taking him again._

The Unseeing Eye drew back... if it were possible for a beholder to show confusion and uncertainty, it was there. "_Impossible… You cannot survive… What are you_?"

Greywulf's eyes blazed as he pointed the rod at the beholder and hissed in a voice deeper and darker than they had ever heard him use before, "**_I am no mortal, fool. You strive against god's blood, and you will pay for your arrogance_**."

It took a second for every beholder and gauth in the area to swarm towards Greywulf, desperate to protect their master... it took less than that for the rod to belch out tendrils of darkness that consumed them all. The Unseeing Eye backed up as it watched its minions die, preparing to attack again... the rod shone as its power activated again. A beam of blackest power left it and struck the beholder, piercing it through. The Unseeing Eye screamed an unearthly howl as it was hit, writhing under the power of the rod. It was only too obvious what was happening as the two survivors darted towards Greywulf... his body was already fading into the ethereal realm; it was consuming him, just as the avatar had warned.

"Stop! You must not keep using it!" Keldorn shouted, but the mage did not seem to hear. Greywulf's face contorted in a mad grin of power and madness as the beholder lowered to the ground, almost dead.

Jaheira's words could not be made out in Greywulf's hearing; not over the heady rush of power he felt as the rod's energy flowed through him. Slowly... everything began to make sense. All the talk of what his destiny could be or would be... it was crystal clear now. His god's blood made him invincible; if a foe this powerful could be brought low with a thought, how much more Irenicus? How much more the merely mortal Shadow Thieves or the vampiress Bodhi who had dared try to control him like a puppet? Nobody would ever control him again... and he would kill those who tried. The interference of fools like the Harpers would no longer be tolerated; Sarevok had been right after all... if a weak-minded fool for failing in his task. He would not, though; he would not fail...

A powerful strike hit Greywulf across the back of the neck, the pommel of Keldorn's sword slamming into him with all the force Keldorn could muster without killing the young man. Greywulf had never seen it coming; he dropped like a stone, the rod rolling from his grasp.

"Take Greywulf... get him as far away from the rod as possible and begin your healing." Keldorn said with grim urgency. Jaheira did not argue or debate... the depth of her concern for the unconscious sorcerer was far too great. Picking him up and carrying his limp body out, Jaheira was gone within moments. Keldorn took one last walk over to the twitching beholder on the ground, the Unseeing Eye still clinging to life... barely. The paladin stared down at it for a brief moment... with one mighty thrust, he impaled the Unseeing Eye upon his blade.

Pulling the Hallowed Redeemer out and wiping the blade off, Keldorn's shoulders slumped in weariness as he approached the rod, still lying on the ground across the room. Such a small thing; a little piece of stone, scarce bigger than a dagger... and yet it had caused such destruction... such pain. He regarded it with the same respect he would give a red dragon... a creature of malice and darkness and yet so dangerous. So powerful. The gods had not touched it yet. They might never do so... the avatar had, after all, said it was only a theory. He could have been wrong, for all Keldorn knew.

That didn't leave many options... they could return it to the avatar's temple. Passing through the shadows again, along with the demons of the temple... it would be almost impossible. Leaving it without a keeper was far too great a risk; too many hands could try to claim it as their own... and each death it caused, whether good or evil, would be on Keldorn's conscience. He could not carry it with him; even he was not immune to the power radiating from it... he could feel it attempting to seduce him as he stared down at it. It took strength of will just to tear his glance away from it, now that it was just he and the rod together in the room. Seconds more ticked by, Keldorn praying that the avatar of the Temple would appear announcing that the gods had decided to take it back home, freeing Toril from its threat... nothing. Silence. The only thing coming back to Keldorn was an empty period of waiting... to hell with it, Sir Keldorn Firecam was tired of waiting. Only one option remained... and the paladin whispered a quick prayer to Torm as he raised his sword, hoping it was the right one.

A crumbling and splitting of stone... combined with the shattering of long-contained power, echoed through the chamber.


	29. Part 1: Corruption Diverted

_Damn him._

Blisters and scorched tissue on his hands from where he blocked the Flame Strike; some crushed herbs and powders mixed with water to cool the skin and let it heal properly.

_Damn him._

Definitely a couple of cracked ribs, possibly broken; the majority of her healing spells and a lot of bandages to set and keep.

_Damn him._

Barely breathing, his spirit so faint it's almost gone, almost out of her ability to heal... and not even sure if it's the right decision, to bring him back.

Try as she might, every time she closed her eyes, there was only one thing she could see in her mind's eye: Greywulf standing there, his eyes glowing golden as his form warped and diffused, the powers of the rod and taint combining to overwhelm him and do what so many dreams and temptations could not. If his mind had been clear enough to see Keldorn and herself as threats, he could have easily destroyed them right there... and here she was, trying to wake him up and bring him back to health, restore his energy and life so he could possibly get a second chance at it.

Jaheira stifled the urge to slam her fist into the stone wall beside her as she knelt beside Greywulf's unconscious form, hurriedly unrolling her medical supplies. She had stripped off his cloak and shirt to bandage his ribs and chest, the druidic magics she commanded only able to do so much. Just looking at his back, the tableau of memories scarred there from the short time he had spent adventuring was more than should ever have had to bear. Granted, most would heal and fade with time... but so many still lingered, so many gained in such a short span.

A set of bite marks scarred into his right shoulder- _Jaheira and Khalid burst into the clearing where the youths had been refilling the canteens; Imoen was shrieking as Greywulf pushed himself backward on the ground with his one good arm, trying to get some distance between him and the wolf that was still approaching him, blood spattered on its jaws as it prepared to leap again-_

_Khalid's sword came down in the nick of time, ending the threat for good as Jaheira darted over to Greywulf's side, quickly tearing away the bloodied and torn sleeve so she could treat the injury. "You fool! What were you thinking, both of you leaving your weapons back at camp? Do you truly want to die out here?!"_

_"Greywulf's gonna be okay, right? Right?" Imoen's tremulous voice broke through, the girl red-eyed and nearly hysterical as Khalid put one hand on her shoulder, watching Jaheira work on Greywulf's trembling form. _

_Jaheira looked up from her healing, exhaling deeply as she met the fear and exhaustion in Imoen's eyes. Jaheira looked back down at Greywulf's pained face, the first real injury he'd received out here. She turned back to Imoen and closed her eyes with a firm nod. "He will be fine, child. Just... go with Khalid and get cleaned up." _

She laid out his hands, grimacing as she poured some cold water from her waterskin over the burnt flesh, then prepared her own medicines as she covered the burnt areas with the cooling gel she had formed. A string of bandages here, cloths tying the dressing down... done. She exhaled softly, turning to look at the side of his torso, judging where to begin her healing spells at.

A patch of flesh on his side, still odd and scarred with the jagged indentations from the wound given there- _The sorcerer dropped to the ground, holding his side in pain as the mace-wielding skeleton closed in, raising it's weapon to strike a second blow. A quarterstaff whipped around, knocking the arm clean off, Jaheira's hair flying with exertion as she reversed her motion and brought the long wooden staff around to knock the skeleton back and out of the fight. Greywulf was clutching his side as she knelt beside him, looking around at the rest of the fight in a hurry-_

_Minsc and Khalid had just finished off the mad cleric Bassilus, Dynaheir and Imoen dispatching the remaining undead he had summoned. The threat was over, she could start healing._

_She pried his trembling hands away from the wound, her face never even twitching as she looked at the torn flesh and the bits of crushed bone she could see in the wound. She quickly pulled a number of herbs and leaves from her belt supplies, mingling them on a large leaf and adding some tree sap. The combination sizzled and foamed for a moment before it finally coagulated into a paste of sorts. She scooped some of it with a wooden tab, holding it over the wound. She caught his eyes, then held him still with one hand. "Lay still. This will hurt for a moment..."_

She began chanting, letting the power of her spells and magics do what it could to heal the injury he had sustained. She frowned as she continued, feeling the bones slowly reconnecting, others still so fragile; she continued until completely drained of her powers. It was not complete, but it would have to do. She unrolled the rest of her bandages and cloths, wrapping them around his ribs and torso to finish the wound dressing.

Running from hip to shoulder, a scar on his chest was gradually being covered by the bandages she wrapped him with- _"I... do not fear death. Do you?"_

_Sarevok's final words, barely whispered from his mouth, echoed faintly in the chamber of the Temple of Bhaal, the warrior finally slumping over in death as Greywulf stumbled back from him, his breath coming in short ragged rasps. The whole group gathered, watching as his body disintegrated into the millions of glittering sparkles of Bhaal taint, fleeting and disappearing from sight._

_Jaheira glanced over at Greywulf, narrowing her eyes as she saw the red staining the front of his robes along with the tear in his robes over his chest. Sarevok's final attack before a hail of acid arrows and sword slashes brought him down: the Sword of Chaos leaping out and dragging straight across Greywulf's chest, the sorcerer's cry echoing in the chamber as Jaheira had grappled with the evil wizard Semaj. _

_"Gorion's murder is avenged. We all need healing; let us destroy this place and be done with it." she said quietly._

_The others murmured agreement as they left, Minsc only stopping briefly to look at Sarevok's crumbling armor... before taking the Sword of Chaos._

The final roll of bandages was laid, Jaheira pinning it in place as she finally turned Greywulf onto his back again, her work finished. All she could manage, anyway. She studied his face for a moment, the calm expression on his unconscious face now so different form the power-mad crazed look she had seen in the other room. She wanted desperately to believe it was the rod's doing... the rod alone. He was a responsibility; more than that, he was a friend. She remembered the look in his eyes when trying to bring her back from the despair that had so easily overwhelmed her after Khalid's death, how when everything was at its darkest and dimmest, he never gave up on her. Kept pulling her. Kept making her face the things she tried to bury and hide away. She owed him so much... but if paying that debt meant taking him down before the taint could overcome him completely, she'd fulfill that duty too.

A boom of power and magic in the cavern behind her nearly shook the stairway she and Greywulf were in, Jaheira quickly steadying his body and making sure nothing had happened. Glancing back down, her body froze for a moment. _Keldorn. Tell me you didn't..._

She grabbed her spear and darted back down to the room, smoke filling her vision as she tried to find the venerable paladin.

The sound of metal on stone plodding steadily through the room finally hit her ears, Jaheira pushing through the smoke, trying to see what she could. A patch of darker smoke seemed to come into view; Jaheira aimed for it, and sure enough, Keldorn finally appeared, trudging wearily out of the darkness.

Jaheira met him halfway, fixing glares with him. The two didn't say anything for a moment, nor did they move, merely standing there as the dust and smoke finally cleared. "You destroyed it."

It wasn't a question; more an accusation. "I had no other choice, Jaheira."

"Do you realize the raw power and magic you've set free in the heavens once more, available for any deity to shape and mold who gets their hands on it?" she warned. "Do you know how this could unbalance the pantheon?"

"It was a risk I'm willing to take." he responded, pushing past her, the glare in her eyes not leaving. "With so many gods grabbing for more power, the amount each acquires will be minimal. As you say, the balance will remain stable."

Using her own philosophy against her obviously rankled... but her eyes quickly softened again. "I hope you are right, Keldorn."

They pushed on towards the stairwell, heading back to where Greywulf still lay."How is he?"

"Better... though I am not sure by how much." Jaheira replied. "I have healed his physical wounds and bandaged his injuries, but his spirit was still faint when I left. That will be up to him to revive-"

The two had just reached the stairway and found Greywulf leaning up against the wall, his face tight with pain as he tried to keep pressure off his ribs. "Glad to see the two of you again." he managed, though there was little in his tone that took the edge off the audible discomfort.

Jaheira took a step forward towards him, a fire in her eyes as the long withheld lecture prepared to... Keldorn's hand grabbed her wrist, holding her back. He shook his head ever so slightly, gesturing towards the exit. She gritted her teeth but nodded, then picked up Greywulf's cloak and shirt, leaning over to let him use her shoulder to support himself. "Quickly, we must leave this place. It should be safe enough at the top though; I imagine most of the cultists fled after the Unseeing Eye died. Their blindness should be permanent; they will be no threat."

Greywulf nodded, but before they had taken a few steps, Keldorn leaned over to him and took him by the shoulder, their eyes locking. "Once we are safe... we discuss this matter thoroughly."

Greywulf narrowed his eyes as he looked at Keldorn, as though weighing whether it would be worth it to defy the paladin's command. However, he nodded after a second and hobbled with Jaheira up the staircase, Keldorn in the back; his hand sat at the hilt of his sword, eyes never leaving Greywulf.

XXXXXXX

Renal Bloodscalp leaned back in the chair he was currently relaxing in, his eyes studying the threesome that were slowly making their way down the hall towards his meeting room, waving the guards off who were looking at him questioningly. "No... no, these three are to be welcomed. Go fetch one of our healers... by the looks of them they might well be grateful for it."

One of his guards had just left to follow the orders when Aerie, Minsc, and Yoshimo finally limped into the room, the ranger in the middle looking the worst of the lot. His eyes betrayed the pain in his body he was still feeling, but there was definitely more than pain there. A smoldering anger was present in his eyes... for a moment Renal reconsidered the request to fetch a healer. Still, he stood from his position and took a slight bow, unwavering in his smile or form.

"Well, well, well... I must say, congratulations are in order. Word has already reached my ears of your extraordinary victory over Mae'var's forces. You are to be highly congratulated... though I admit, I had doubts of seeing you return here again. Alive, anyway."

"I would not dare disappoint you, sire." Yoshimo replied, returning the bow. "Though if you don't mind, what gave you any impression of our impending failure?"

Renal cocked his head, lips flattening in an odd smile. "Truly? I was told you were dead. I have never been more pleased to find out otherwise."

"Who told you that?" Aerie asked with a frown.

"It was the sneaky Red Wizard Edwin, wasn't it?" Minsc demanded as he stepped forward, thought to his credit, Renal did not flinch.

"I would assume your parties have met before, then. Yes, the Red Wizard made a small appearance here a while after you had left... he claimed that you and the others had fallen in battle and that he had finished Mae'var off as a service to me."

Aerie grimaced as she listened. She was beginning to understand why Minsc had such a vehement hatred for this man. "He was the one who set off the spell trap... a sunfire burst designed to kill Mae'var and us at the same time."

"Where is he!? This man has deserved a butt-stomping many times over now... we will deliver!" Minsc growled.

"Gone. He took his leave once he realized I wasn't willing to award him the gold I promised you for your services. Even if he weren't gone though, I do believe none of you are in condition to fight him, much less track the man down. A lying coward or no, he is at the very least a competent spellcaster." Renal pointed out. "Please, sit while we finish our discussion. A healer is on the way shortly; consider it a free bonus for your excellent work."

"Your grace knows no bounds, sire." Yoshimo said with a grin as he helped Aerie into one of the chairs located around Renal's desk. After he had ensured Minsc and Aerie were both seated, he took his spot before Bloodscalp. "Rest assured, we did indeed kill Mae'var... and should Edwin make himself known again, we have no qualms about dispatching him as well."

"I'm sure." Renal remarked dryly. "I'll keep an eye out; if he contacts us again, we'll be sure to let you know. But back to the matter at hand, yes? That being your work in ending the personal threat to my life. Quite a feat, indeed; destroying an entire guild of traitors, including their chief and excellent swordsman, by the way. Worthy of remembrance in the Shadow Thief guild history books... except for the fact that this was an unofficial operation. Secrecy and all that. Sorry."

"And officially?" Yoshimo questioned.

Bloodscalp picked up a parchment rolled up on his desk, cleared his throat and began to read. "Tragically, the guildhouse master Mae'var, appointed over Docks platform twenty-five, met with an unfortunate end while torturing a prisoner. A lack in judgment and security allowed the prisoner to escape his shackles and dispatch Mae'var before he could be killed. The lieutenants underneath Mae'var began vying for his position soon afterward, leading to a tragic war in which the entire guild found itself wiped out in one night."

"With all due respect, sire, I doubt anybody in any organization will believe that story." Yoshimo chuckled.

"Truly?" Renal laughed. "Indeed... though what do I have to fear? I have the documents you so graciously brought me, so let them dig for the truth if they so desire. It really makes no difference to me."

Renal walked back to his desk, then looked up to see them still staring at him expectantly; he asked with mock surprise, "What, you think I still owe you a reward? Is garnering the goodwill of the Shadow Thieves not enough of one?"

Minsc narrowed his eyes, "I do not trust you sneaky thieves. You had better deliver, or Minsc will be forced to begin the butt kicking all over again; you would not appreciate this, for I have worn my good boots today."

Renal laughed easily, then said, "Don't worry, ranger. I have your reward well in hand. And as for my earlier statement, it wouldn't be enough for me either. So, here you are, a total sum of seven thousand gold pieces. Spend it wisely and you'll be on your way to recovering your lost Imoen soon enough."

"I believe our business is now complete, sire. I trust my activities will be overlooked?"

"Yes yes, you have a clean record." Bloodscalp waved him off. "Do try to refrain from making yourself too visible though. I have a reputation to maintain. Ah. Here comes the healers I promised now."

"Our utmost gratitude; we'll be leaving as soon as they've finished with us, I should think." Yoshimo noted as they followed the healers out. "The others will be arriving at the Copper Coronet soon. I for one could use some rest and a mug of ale."

"We could give you all that right here, if you desire." Renal called to the three of them as they left.

"I doubt we could afford your prices, sire." Yoshimo tossed back with another half-bow, evoking another burst of laughter from Renal Bloodscalp as they left his quarters, their present business with the Shadow Thieves all but concluded.

X X X X X X X

Renal chuckled a second time as the doors to his office were closed and locked, the guard awaiting his next instructions. He looked over the documents provided him by Yoshimo and the others once more, shook his head and tossed them back down on his desk. After snugging up the sword and dirk he was wearing, he motioned to his guard; they accompanied him through the back door from his quarters, the Shadow Thief whistling something of a merry tune as he reached the end of the corridor he had been traversing, opening the end door with a grin.

"Ah, Edwin... good to see you once more. Thank you for being so patient."

The captive Red Wizard only glared, refusing to speak. Standing in a circle of Shadow Thief mages and guards, the look in his eyes spelled murder, but it was clear that the moment he began any sort of hostile motion, he would be dead long before he finished the first incantation. Renal walked up to him, waited for a few seconds before arching one eyebrow with a bemused smile. "Oh, come now. Are you not enjoying yourself?"

"I am Edwin Odessiron; I demand you set me free from here!" Edwin growled, Renal chuckling as he shook his head in mock sympathy.

"As far as I can tell, you're in no position to be making any kind of demands, Edwin... not with what you owe me."

"Owe you? I owe you nothing, thief-master!(Except a quick death for this indignity, perhaps.)"

"Oh, but you do owe me." Renal Bloodscalp shook one finger. "You see, contrary to what you may think, I truly don't care about your rivalry with these particular mercenaries; whether they live or die does not concern me. Killing them after they dispatched Mae'var? It would've saved me seven thousand gold pieces. But trying to cheat me... that was a mistake, Edwin. And now you owe me a great deal. Because the only reason I haven't killed you yet is that you might be useful to me. Prove me wrong and I'll be forced to do something hideous."

Edwin's jaw seemed to start working, moving up and down as he tried to think of something to reply with... but he remained silent. Renal nodded in satisfaction. "That's what I thought you'd say. Now that we're clear on who's in charge of this relationship... you're free to go."

Edwin tried unsuccessfully to hide his surprise, immediately suspicious. "What do you mean, Bloodscalp? What sort of skullduggery do you scheme now?"

"Nothing at the moment, truly. Let me put it differently. Go about your business and do what you must, just know that I'll be watching. And when I need your services... I'll let you know. And you'll do whatever I ask. Perform adequately enough... who knows, perhaps your debt might be settled."

"And how," Edwin snarled as he stepped forward in Renal's face, "Do you know that I would not leave as soon as you released me from here?"

"Because you're too smart for that." Renal smiled even wider. "Like I said... I'll be watching. And in case you decide to run, remember just how much the Rashemaar ranger hates you. You have a lot of enemies, Edwin... and a lot to answer for."

XXXXXXX

"I do wish these scars would heal." Jaheira grunted as they made their way through the old tunnels, passing back into the area they had originally fought the bandits in. The flood Jaheira and Greywulf had caused was all but gone now; only those who knew it had happened would ever be able to tell. Jaheira had stayed with Greywulf while Keldorn investigated the cult headquarters and all was as they had anticipated. Without the powers of the Unseeing Eye, the cultists had been left blind and desperate; sadly, there were few left to save. Many of the new recruits had panicked, striking at anything within reach. Others had fallen victim to the treacherous layout of the cult temple, the grandiose pit in the middle claiming most of the unwary. A scant few remained to whom Keldorn extended a hand of aid... but they were too far gone. Keldorn had been left with the choice of incapacitating them down there temporarily or killing them; with any luck, when they awoke they would find the solace beneficial to the spirit if nothing else.

Jaheira glanced at Greywulf; he hadn't responded yet, so she continued. "I've a life to continue and I do not need to be picking at old wounds."

Keldorn was still behind them... the sides of his mouth curled upwards just a bit, noting her attempts to bring him out a bit. He had said little if anything at all on the way back; what had happened was undoubtedly weighing heavily on him, as it should have been. Let the two talk for a bit; what Jaheira and Keldorn both had to say to him wasn't going to be easy.

Greywulf finally turned to catch Jaheira's eye as they moved. "I get the feeling I'll have a few more scars after this is all over... but I think they give character in the end. They define where we have been."

"True enough, but I was speaking of emotional marks." Jaheira replied.

Greywulf shrugged, then countered, "Perhaps I was as well."

She thought for a moment, then bowed her head. "Ah, they are one and the same in the long run. Both will heal in time, given favorable conditions to do so. I think we will both be fine. Besides, we're back."

Sure enough, before them was the stairway leading back up to the surface world, and out of the dank sewer tunnels. It seemed like forever since the two had journeyed down here at Sir Oisig's request, but it was a welcome sight. Greywulf began to hobble forward again... Keldorn's hand landed on his shoulder, pulling him back a bit. "Hold on, son. You still owe me a discussion, remember? Now's a good a time and place as any."

Greywulf nodded, taking a deep breath in preparation for the assuredly unpleasant conversation to come. "I assume this would be the point where you lecture me about what happened with the beholders?"

"That depends, really. It'll only be a lecture if I think you need it." Keldorn smiled wryly. "I told you before that I judge by actions. Those are what we need to discuss."

"Look, I admit I got careless with the rod, and it almost took over."

"_Did_ take over." Keldorn corrected.

Greywulf sighed in exasperation, "I won't let it happen again, okay? We've destroyed the rod and we'll never see it again. You may not think so, but I understand the importance of what I almost did. If you think I like putting all my friends in the danger that is my life, you're dead wrong. They keep me from going too far; they're willing to take me down if necessary. It _won't_ happen again."

Keldorn stared at him for a moment longer, then shook his head. "No, I don't think you do understand, Greywulf."

"Then make me understand, damn it!" Greywulf snapped, his voice echoing through the tunnel halls. "What are you getting at?"

"Do you remember what happened right before you activated the rod?" Keldorn asked, keeping his voice perfectly even, the dignity in his tone remaining rock solid.

Greywulf glared for a moment, as though wondering if Keldorn was mocking him with his deceptively simple questions. Finally he answered, "The Unseeing Eye was battling me for the rod. We were both trying to summon it magically and when it looked like a stalemate, he let it go and attempted to kill me with a direct magical assault."

"Yes," Keldorn persisted, "But after that. What happened when you were attacked by the beholder?"

"After that?" Greywulf said with a frown. Thinking back, he was puzzled at Keldorn's meaning; he was hit, he activated the rod to protect himself, then he used the rod again to fight the beholder. "I don't know what you're talking about." Greywulf finally sighed.

"He means what you did to protect yourself from the beholder." Jaheira's stern voice interrupted, apparently having heard enough.

"I activated the rod to protect myself, then-" Greywulf repeated aloud, but was suddenly cut off by Jaheira.

"That's it. That's where you're wrong." Jaheira insisted.

"She's right. Do you even remember what you did back there?" Keldorn added, staring intently at Greywulf.

"I…" Greywulf was about to answer, but then the realization came to him. "I activated the rod after the attack failed, didn't I?"

Not waiting for a verbal confirmation to what he saw in their faces, he continued, "Then how did I survive the last attack? I didn't have enough magic to do the job…"

He closed his eyes, trying to think back to what happened: he saw in his mind's eye the attack commence, the failure of it… then right between, he saw himself, felt himself reach into his very soul for something, anything to survive the incoming attack. He touched something deep, something he had sworn not to touch.

Looking up from his soul searching, they saw his eyes glance at them for a brief moment, fear filled, before he looked away, finally knowing what they spoke of. "My taint… that's what saved me, isn't it? I summoned its power to defend me, and... I conquered the beasts before me. Just like Irenicus promised."

"You understand then." Keldorn said as he started toward the staircase, leaving the other two behind.

"Wait a second!" Greywulf shouted, Keldorn turning his head to look at Greywulf from the side. "All that prodding, all that pushing to get me to realize what I did down there, and you're leaving it at that? What was the point? What did you want me to learn?"

"You just did." Keldorn said with a smile, turning back towards the staircase and resuming his climb.

"I am so lost." Greywulf muttered despondently.

"Then perhaps I can explain in a way your thick-headed, non-sequitor brain can manage." Jaheira said, her voice somehow going from calm-and-controlled to abrasive-Jaheira-lecture without warning. Keldorn stopped to listen, trying to suppress the smile on his face. "The point, which Keldorn has been kind enough to give you the opportunity to realize on your own, is not that you made the mistake. Be glad he told you this much first. We were able to bring you back and that's what counts, that you're back in control again. What you need to realize is that you are vulnerable to this; if you try and ignore it like it's not there, this will happen again. And again. And every time you let your guard down, you put me into a position I hate. You say it like it's so easy... maybe for you it is. Maybe it's easy for you to give up the responsibility to your friends, to let them 'take you down' if you fail. Have you ever stopped _once_ to think how much we'd hate ourselves for stopping you? Have you?! You put me into a position where I might have to kill you... and damn you Greywulf, I don't know if I can."

She finally inhaled sharply, visibly trying to calm her temper as Greywulf listened, slowly realizing just what they were telling him. "I just need you to realize... as long as you are constantly vigilant against your father's taint and aware of how vulnerable you still are, you will have a better chance of resisting. When you get to a point where you can no longer see your own folly..."

Jaheira seemed to run out of words, that or she was unable to finish her thoughts aloud; Keldorn picked it up immediately. "The lady is correct. As I said, I judge by actions. You have so far proven to be a worthy man; this incident is the exception from what I can see, not the rule. But I believe you still have much to learn. The Order has given me leave to pursue whatever missions I deem worthy; if you will have me, I would travel with you for a time after we report to the Temple of Helm."

"As a watcher, making sure I don't fall to evil?" Greywulf inquired, the hoarseness to his voice a testament to the flood of emotions and guilt he was trying to suppress.

"Partially, I cannot deny. But I believe you have a heart for good. I would help you see it done." Keldorn said gently. It was clear to him... Greywulf had got the message. Only time would tell just how this would affect him.

The sorcerer was quiet for a long couple of seconds; he finally nodded to Keldorn. "I'd be honored to have your wisdom and experience with us, Keldorn. Welcome to the party."

Keldorn bowed once; he glanced back up at the grate leading to the surface. "I should still report to the Order Hall before accompanying you on your journeys. Where shall we meet up again?"

"The Copper Coronet; we're meeting the rest of our party there as well." Jaheira answered.

Keldorn nodded and within seconds, he was gone as well, leaving Greywulf and Jaheira alone, leaning up against the walls of the sewer tunnels. Silence enveloped them for a while, neither one saying anything. Finally, Jaheira turned to him, pushing his shoulder to get him to look at her. "Feeling better?"

"No. Not really... I think deep down, I knew what I had done. I knew I'd used the taint, I just didn't want to say it." he said as he rubbed his side gingerly, unable to meet her gaze.

"That's why we're here." Jaheira reminded Greywulf, handing him his cloak and shirt, helping him slip them on again. "I depended on you… and the rest of the group for support when Khalid died. It has been nearly two months and I still feel the hurt of his passing, but I have passed the worst of it, I think. I learned that I can't do everything in that time. It was a difficult lesson, as you well remember. You must learn this as well."

She waved him on; the two finally ascended the stair and left the sewers. Just like that, it was done. The talk both had been dreading, neither one had wanted to talk about... finished. Both knew what had to be done; there was no point in bringing it up again.

They emerging into the afternoon sun of the Temple District; the change in scenery and smell was never so apparent after leaving one of the dungeons they found themselves in so often. Greywulf sighed in contentment, noting the numerous commoners and passerby's that stopped briefly to stare at them, always moving on quickly, most of them repulsed.

"What's their problem?" Greywulf asked with an air of complete obliviousness.

"How many people do you see crawling out of a sewer every day?" Jaheira countered.

"Good point. Let's get back to the Copper Coronet and some hot water. After a week of crawling around a sewer and underground caverns... a bath sounds pretty good right now."

Jaheira smirked. "Sissy."


	30. Part 1: Glimmers of Hope

Two men stood across from each other, both unsteady on their feet, glaring heavily as they tried to regain some manner of energy. The area around them was totally destroyed, wrecked with the energy of men who had nothing left to lose. Broken furniture, glass and all other manner of debris was littered around them, remnants of makeshift clubs and thrown weapons.

They stared at each other with the eyes and hatred of men who were angry with life, angry with each other, angry with their surroundings... and totally, absolutely intoxicated. Colliding in another bar room brawl, the shouts and grunts of the pair's fighting match was barely audible over the raucous collision of drunks and patrons throughout the Copper Coronet, some yelling for more ale as they broke out into totally new fights, others merely slumped over their tables, passed out long ago to the great pleasure of the pickpockets and thieves in the bar.

"It's nice to know some things never change." Greywulf commented as they waited by the door, watching the chaos and bustle commence before them.

"We've stayed in worse inns before." Jaheira remarked, smoothly sidestepping before a flying glass bottle shattered where her head had been.

"We've stayed in better ones too..." Greywulf muttered as the door beside them swung open, a blast of cool air accompanying the armored form of Keldorn, turning his head to note them with a smile and nod. "Glad you could make it, Keldorn."

"Indeed. Of all places, why did you choose to meet your companions here?" Keldorn said with a frown as he took in the atmosphere, following them toward the main bar.

"This is what you might call our semi-official base of operations here in Athkatla. The establishment recently changed ownership. We know the new owner, saved his life actually; he's been working to clean this place up a bit." Greywulf said calmly, steadying a drunk who was about to fall off his chair as they walked by.

"Yes, I can see he's been making real progress." Keldorn said dryly.

"Hendak had an accident of sorts a little while ago. He should be back by now. Usually he's over- Ah. There he is."

They strode over to find Hendak in his usual corner of the building, this time sitting in a rather comfortable looking chair, still a bit pale from his past injuries. There was a long string of bandages wrapped around his midsection, but both swords were still strapped to his belt.

"Hendak! I see you're on the mend." Greywulf exclaimed, walking over to the gladiator with a smile.

"It is good to see the both of you once more. Again I find myself in your debt." Hendak said, grimacing as he pulled himself out of his chair.

"Nonsense. You were out there risking your life for us. There is no debt." Greywulf shook his head. "I see those wounds are healing... scored a few of my own in our last trip out."

"You are all right, then?" Hendak queried.

"Thanks to these two." Greywulf gestured to the paladin and druid beside him. "Keldorn, this is Hendak. He's a good man; don't let the Coronet fool you."

Hendak chuckled before bowing to Keldorn and Jaheira, then sitting down again. "You must excuse the Copper Coronet's state of affairs; in my absence, the bar has taken on a few of its seedier elements once again."

Hendak was interrupted by the sound of a man vomiting in the crowd, whereupon Hendak sighed and continued, "It will be some time before I can enforce an element of order again. Bernard does what he can, but he is not exactly a warrior. The threat of a blade goes farther than the threat of being thrown out."

"I've tried threatening to cut them off; that usually does all right." Bernard chuckled as he approached, the large man wiping his hands on the perpetually dirty cloth around his waist. "Good to see ya all back and healthy. Miss Jaheira, you're looking good as usual. Anything I can get for you and your friends?"

Jaheira shook her head with a chuckle. "Nothing at the moment, Bernard. We were supposed to meet with the rest of our companions here; have they arrived yet?"

"Er... terribly scatter-brained of me I know, but could ye remind me what they're names are, what they look like?" Bernard asked sheepishly.

"I swear, you'd forget your own name if so many people didn't yell it at you all day." Jaheira scoffed, though her tone was more jesting than harsh. "Yoshimo, Minsc, and Aerie. Two human males, one elven female."

"I meet so many people every day, you'll have to do a little better than that, Miss Jaheira."

Greywulf sighed, shaking his head wryly. "The big male has a hamster named Boo he talks to constantly."

"Oh, of course! I remember who you're talking about now. They're upstairs now, at one of the bar tables, last I saw. With a rather surly looking dwarf, though still having a grand time... at least the smaller guy was. Yoshimo, that's it."

"That's him. Thanks a lot, Bernard. Hendak, take care of yourself. Good to see you back and up again."

They left Hendak and Bernard to mind the bar as they traveled upstairs, navigating the throng of people who were piling down, all presumably to get another drink. It wasn't exactly hard to find their companions, gathered around a large table with several empty cups and pitchers nearby. Yoshimo, at the very least, seemed quite happy, though Minsc and Aerie were a little less enthused. Judging from the slightly drunken laughter coming from the thief, he had been at this for some time. They were seated at a table next to an armored dwarf, who by the looks of it, was getting rather irritated with Yoshimo... especially given the fact Yoshimo was rambling on and on with one arm around the dwarf's shoulder.

"Friend Korgan," Yoshimo admonished between hiccups. "You are truly a paragon of dwarven ill-humor. Can you find no joy in being alive? The smell of the morning dew and the feel of the free air?"

Korgan looked at Yoshimo with a mix of amusement and anger, then retorted, "Aye, I take great pleasure in the feeling of an inquisitive thief's neck bone breakin' between me hands."

Yoshimo laughed once again, then slapped Korgan on the back. "They could write a book about you. 'Irritable Dwarven Responses,' they'd call it. It would be a best-seller amongst the smelly-old-drunk market. What say you?"

Korgan barked a laugh, then countered as he shoved Yoshimo's arm off, "Mayhaps ye should, only 'Pleasures of the Dwarven Bed-Chamber' is a more pleasing and accurate subject."

Aerie looked positively disgusted by the dwarf's response, Minsc looked somewhat confused, but Yoshimo merely laughed again. "Ho! Is it, now? How about 'The Unbathed Adventurer: Travels with Korgan'?"

Korgan finally seemed to grow weary of the thief's chatter, that or he noticed the newly arrived crowd of adventurers; he grabbed Yoshimo by the collar and flung him to the ground before getting up and snarling behind him as he left. "Worry not, thief. There's naught wrong with yer idea that a sharp blow to yer idiot skull wouldn't fix. Here is yer title and argue with me gauntlet if ye dare: 'Tall-Folk Scourge: Yoshimo Beware!' Now shut yer mouth and get to writing. Bleedin' drunk..."

Before Yoshimo could climb back to his feet, Minsc and Aerie picked him up and ushered the drunken man away from the dwarf, hiccupping all the way, over to meet their bemused friends at the staircase.

"Greywulf, Jaheira! I am so glad to see you again! Boo expresses his joy as well." Minsc boomed, hugging both of them in one large arm squeeze.

"We're…glad to see you too." Greywulf grunted as he attempted to pull away from Minsc's broad arm. "Okay... getting kind of painful now... losing air."

"What he means… is that we'd appreciate not getting hugged to death the first thing after we get back." Jaheira growled firmly, pushing away from the large man.

"I'm glad you're all back safely... I missed you while you were away." Aerie said with a faint smile, coming over and letting the sorcerer embrace her lightly.

"I see Yoshimo here has been enjoying himself?" Jaheira remarked with more than a touch of sarcasm.

Glancing down at the drunken thief, Minsc shrugged and said, "Eh, after we got here, he decided to celebrate our victory by having a drink or two…or three…or four… or five…"

"We get the idea." Greywulf said, motioning for Minsc to pick the inebriated man up. "Friends, this is Sir Keldorn Firecam, the paladin who helped us in the Temple District."

"I see!" Minsc boomed. "Another warrior on the path of butt kicking for goodness! Boo and I are honored to meet you."

Keldorn raised one eyebrow as Minsc proudly displayed the small hamster, then looked at Greywulf with the obvious question. _What kind of group are you with?_

Still, he recovered quicker than most. "Well met, friends. With Greywulf's permission, I have agreed to travel with you on your journeys, at least for the time being."

"We'll be shleezed-hic-pleased to have you with us." Yoshimo announced, staggering to his feet and colliding with Keldorn before bouncing off.

"Drunkenness is a vile thing." Keldorn said with a frown as he grabbed a pitcher of water from a nearby table and walked toward the thief, still waving his arms in a failing attempt to keep his balance.

With one swift toss, the water covered Yoshimo from head to toe, drenching him completely as well as bringing him back to a surprising semblance of soberness.

"What… I…" Yoshimo began sputtering angrily, cut off by the laughter of the group.

"So, you are not quite as drunk as you appeared." Keldorn said, stroking his goatee as he peered at the irritated man.

"Well… perhaps not." Yoshimo huffed, wiping his face with an offered towel from Minsc. "But if you knew as such, what reason did you have for completely soaking me?"

"Two reasons, really. One- because I truly do despise drunkenness, regardless of whether it is faked. Two, so you would not notice me stealing back the ring you pick pocketed from me when you 'accidentally' fell upon me just now." Keldorn finished with a smile, holding up the small piece of jewelry as he slid it back onto his finger.

The roars of laughter fit right in with the rest of the noise in the Coronet while Jaheira smirked at the reddening thief. "It appears Keldorn has your number, Yoshimo. Keldorn, I think you will fit perfectly with our group."

XXXXXXX

"I feel much better, I must say. There's nothing like a hot bath after a long trudge in a sewer." Greywulf said with a smile, running one hand through his drying hair.

"You smell better, too." Jaheira responded, the two of them walking down the Copper Coronet stairs to meet the rest of the party.

"Ah!" Greywulf cried melodramatically. "A snappy retort right through the heart! You've been rather quick on the draw lately."

"I've spent too much time around you." Jaheira said, her mouth betraying slight hints of a smirk.

Greywulf opened his mouth as if to reply, then shut it, not willing to risk another comeback from the woman beside him. They continued making their way through the masses of customers and found the other four group members talking with Hendak, who welcomed them as he saw them approach.

"Both of you feeling better?" Yoshimo asked, already having changed his soaked clothes while Keldorn, Jaheira and Greywulf had been cleaning up.

"The whole sewer smell really wasn't my thing. First thing... I presume Keldorn already told you we need to head back to the Temple of Helm? They still await word of our success." Greywulf noted.

"No doubt they have already divined that we are victorious, or at least that we are alive." Keldorn said, "Though we should go and confirm their magics, if for nothing else than to obtain the money we need for rescuing your friend."

"You... are okay with the idea of using the Shadow Thieves to oppose the Cowled Wizards?" Aerie asked, slightly surprised.

"As long as the works we do for them do not lead into evil, I shall be content... though I admit, the means are a bit darker than I would like."

"Fair enough." Greywulf said. "We'll get going after a few drinks and some food. I haven't had an ale in many a day. Yoshimo, none for you."

Yoshimo began to protest until Keldorn grasped another water pitcher... the bounty hunter smiled and backed off, somehow losing any hint of thirst. Greywulf went and ordered his drink, Minsc, Keldorn and Yoshimo all sitting together, swapping tales and histories, the paladin surprisingly at ease amongst them. From the looks and sounds of it, Minsc was just introducing Boo formally to Keldorn, the older man taking it all in stride. Greywulf shook his head wryly as he watched from the bar, remaining there as he nursed on the ale he had ordered, content to let them get acquainted without him for a while.

What Jaheira had said to him earlier had not been in vain... in truth, it had been easy for him before. The words came so easily, the idea that his companions could end the threat he presented if he ever fell to the taint. The head knowledge was there to be sure, he _knew _nobody would want to kill him, should it go that far. But in his heart... it hadn't ever sunk in, just what he was asking of them. He was asking them to kill someone they had spent years of life laughing with, traveling with... the only real family he had in his life. But the look Jaheira had given him when she had been forced to seriously contemplate the idea... no, it wasn't easy. He knew that now. And while anyone who ever thought otherwise was a fool... he prayed they'd still have the strength to stop him if necessary.

A bit of motion at the edges of his vision turned his head; Greywulf scooted over to allow Aerie room at the bar beside him as he motioned toward the stool beside him. "Please... sit if you like."

She sat next to him, looking him over with a concerned eye. "Jaheira... she told me you got hurt pretty bad while you three were gone. Are you okay?"

"As far as I can tell." Greywulf replied with a grin. "I'm not sure if I'll ever play the harp again, but I think I'll survive."

"You played the harp?"

"Eh... no. Just kidding." he chuckled. "You? All in one piece, I should hope. Dangerous work from what Minsc and Yoshimo mentioned. Survived a meeting with the infamous Renal Bloodscalp, hmm?"

"He... he wasn't so bad." Aerie shrugged, taking a glass of water from Bernard. "But... but there was this wizard named Edwin-"

"Edwin? Gods, not him again." Greywulf groaned. _Just after dealing with Montaron and Xzar, here comes Edwin. Who's next? Maybe we'll get lucky and fight an undead Sarevok._ "Minsc didn't do anything terrible like dismemberment, did he?"

"Not for lack of trying." Aerie said, trying to cover a smile with her hand. "He got away by the end, but he did try to kill us."

"Really?" Greywulf said with a raised eyebrow, before taking another swig of his ale. "Sounded like you had fun then."

"Well..." Aerie hesitated for a moment. "Not really. Not that I'm saying it was supposed to be fun, I just... I- never mind."

She almost got up and left, but Greywulf frowned and quickly took her arm. "Hey... are you all right? Something you want to talk about?"

"I don't want to bother you, Greywulf, you don't need to-" by that point it was too late; Greywulf had already maneuvered her back to the bar stool.

"It's no bother at all, Aerie... you know I'm always here for you, right?" his gentle smile caught her eye... she finally managed a nod, trying to get out her thoughts. "Now... what happened?"

"We... while we were working for the Shadow Thieves, we did things... broke into the Temple of Talos, killed a man because we were ordered to do so. It didn't feel right to me, Greywulf. That's not what we do, is it?" she said, a pained look crossing her face.

"Things aren't turning out as black and white as they used to be, right?" Greywulf said sympathetically. "Remember that you haven't been at this adventuring business for very long, Aerie. Only a little more than a month, right? Nobody expects you to be accustomed to what we do already."

"It's not that..." Aerie shook her head. "I just sometimes feel... I feel like I'm the only one who sees how violent, how... well, awful this life is."

"It is that indeed." he agreed. "I sure didn't ask for it... but I really didn't have a choice in the matter. Sarevok and Irenicus took care of that."

She didn't answer for a moment; Greywulf just let her think, watching her quietly, trying to dig into what she had been saying, figuring out some way to ease her fears and insecurities. He knew she could do it, should she be willing to put herself to the test... but it was convincing her of that. Something was still holding onto her, keeping her from growing any more. Gorion had told him that the adventuring life was not for everybody... it was usually within the first two weeks that would decide the fate of a prospective warrior or mage; usually ending up with three options: death, early retirement, or success.

Aerie... his eyes traced the lines of her pretty face. It had been almost twice as long she'd been adventuring. Despite what he'd told her, he really did expect her to have adjusted by now. He hoped she would find the strength she needed; but it was still anyone's guess as to how she would do that. He spoke up again, "What did you intend for your life to be before all this?"

Aerie seemed surprised by the question; she shook her head sadly. "I knew it wasn't to be fighting all the time... not stuck here on the ground, on this miserable earth. I guess... every time I think of what might have been, I always think back to when I was complete. I think... I think my future was lost when I lost my wings."

"Life down here isn't so wretched, Aerie." Greywulf offered.

"But it IS!" Aerie abruptly came alive, looking at him in search of answers he didn't have. "It is, Greywulf! How could you understand, when you haven't flown in the clouds? To feel weightless and free..."

"Aerie, I know you've lost a lot... but you're going to have to find the strength; strength I know you have-"

Aerie looked at him as though betrayed, her voice bleeding out the hurt and confusion inside, "Find the strength?! Find the strength?! How can you be so cruel as to cast that at me! I… I am a member of a proud race… my wings were everything to me! I can never go back to Faenya-Dail! I could not face them without my wings! Here I am, stuck like an insect crawling on the dirt… and you tell me to be strong?! W-well… what I am I supposed to be strong for? I… I hate this existence…"

Aerie abruptly stood and left the bar, feeling the burning glances from her companions as she headed back up toward the room they had been staying at. Gods, she was embarrassed. It hadn't meant to come out that way, she certainly hadn't meant to yell at Greywulf, not when all he was trying to do was help. She desperately wanted to go back and apologize, to assure him she hadn't meant it... but facing any of the others right now would be too much for her. Everything was coming out wrong right now... and no doubt Jaheira would be more than pleased to give her another lecture about her failings and her weakness.

She didn't want to fight Jaheira either; she had felt bad earlier, after venting her frustrations about the druid to Yoshimo and Minsc, back in the small temple of Lathander. She wouldn't normally have gone on such a tirade behind someone's back like that... the druid just knew how to rub her the wrong way. And she was good at it too. Jaheira wouldn't have done something like that about Aerie... no, the druid made certain that everyone knew her opinions whether they wanted to or not. Just so damned intimidating; Aerie wasn't brave enough to confront the druid... not yet, anyway.

The sound of heavy footsteps behind her turned her head; Minsc stood there, a concerned look on his earnest face. "Boo noticed you looked sad... are you okay, Aerie?"

Greywulf sighed, watching as Minsc caught up with Aerie; the two of them talking together halfway up the stairs. He briefly considered going over there himself... Keldorn abruptly put one hand on his shoulder. "Let her talk with Minsc for a while. Give her some time; she'll get through this in the end."

"I hope you're right, Keldorn." Greywulf noted as she watched the ranger and the elf sit, Minsc's earnest and personable version of wisdom, inaudible from where they were, was apparently cheering the elf from her depression... for the moment.

X X X X X X X

"So, my brave paladin friend, how many foes have you defeated in your journeys? I am sure that a warrior of your skill as slain countless evils as a duty toward justice!" Minsc grinned at the paladin as they passed through the arches of the Temple District. Minsc had scarcely stopped speaking with the patient Keldorn after he had mentioned a previous battle offhandedly; Minsc had insisted on hearing every tale the older man had to offer. It was to be expected though... he had been just as enthusiastic when Ajantis had been a member of their party so long ago.

"It does seem that way sometimes, though I do not count what I do as a duty. It is my life... and I will continue it until death."

"You are truly devoted to the cause of righteous butt-kicking!" Minsc bellowed, slapping the man on the back.. "I am proud to have such a worthy man fight with us. You see, Boo? Perhaps you might become the first Giant Space Hamster paladin, hmm?"

Keldorn smiled faintly, then lagged behind a bit, taking up the tail end of the group with Aerie. Greywulf watched with a smile... but it slowly turned to a frown, watching Keldorn's slump of weariness in his frame and for just a brief moment, just a split second... a look of sadness across his face. There was no time to dwell on it; within minutes they had reached the grand Temple of Helm and entered the massive oak doors, finding Sir Oisig awaiting them, his Watchknights beside him.

"You have returned." Oisig intoned solemnly. "We sense you have achieved victory of a sort. What has taken place?"

Greywulf went on to explain to them everything of what happened, the location of the cult temple, their malevolent practices, the tale of Sassar and the rod, and the Unseeing Eye's true form, an elder orb beholder. When Greywulf finished his tale, Oisig's face bore a broad smile, and he bowed low, saying, "Many thanks are given to you and your companions for defeating such an evil. A beholder cult right in the middle of Athkatla; destroying it and the threat of the artifact has earned you much favor indeed. I only wish you were a member of the priesthood of Helm that I might give you spiritual rewards as well; this monetary reward must compensate you instead."

Oisig handed Keldorn a large Bag of Gold. "There is a substantial amount inside... by our count, almost enough for you to proceed in your quest to rescue Imoen. May your search for her go well; Helm's blessing be upon you."

They knew a sign of dismissal when they heard one and so the six of them bowed and left, their business with the Temple of Helm finally concluded.

XXXXXXX

Irenicus smirked as he looked down upon the large, makeshift arena inside the fortress of Spellhold, viewing the brawling and fighting amongst the prisoners who were not needed for the next process of transference. It had been Bodhi's idea that they might as well have some fun with the few he did not need alive; what better way than watching them kill each other off? Not only would it get rid of their excess aggression, even though it was unlikely they could hurt him anyway, it was just plain fun to watch. Some of the orcs were gathered around as well and cheering; on the other side of the arena stood Bodhi, draped over the balcony as she watched those below fight amongst themselves, gathered in one large circular brawl.

However, the oddest and most intriguing sight was the fighter in the midst of them all, knocking away or injuring all who came near. Imoen, a feral look in her eyes, stood planted in the very center of them, the target of most of the other prisoners. One might have thought her easy prey to begin with... that opinion did not last long. She was fighting with a fury she had never shown or known before... a strength and ferocity that impressed even Irenicus. Oh, he had expected her to be... darker, after the transference. But this... this was most unexpected. After Bodhi had assaulted her mind with her vampire abilities, she had shown nothing but the basest instincts: survival, hunger, tiredness, little more than that. Her desire to fight had grown stronger with time though; she had become so violent that she was kept away from the other prisoners except during the Arena matches.

Irenicus had learned this the hard way, when he came in to see her one day and found two of her four of her cellmates beaten to death. The surviving two had not fared much better; one of them was paralyzed from the legs down with his back snapped in two while the the last one it seemed Imoen had taken a small liking to; she had merely been content to break all his fingers before deciding she wanted a nap. Irenicus had been shocked to see the girl curled up in the corner with blood staining her clothes and hands, the other prisoners crawling as far away as possible, whimpering amidst muffled screams.

He was knocked out of his memories by the sound of a scream, seeing Imoen breaking one man's arm, then whipping him around by it, throwing him into another group of prisoners. This only aggravated the fighters more, an attacker came from each side; it was quite possible they might overwhelm her this time. He watched intently as they closed in on the girl-

"Enough!" Bodhi's sultry voice echoed throughout the room, freezing every fighter in the Arena. She sauntered over to the orc guards and said, "Bring Imoen out and put her back in her cell. Do not harm her."

"What are you planning?" Irenicus asked as he approached Bodhi, slightly bemused. "The last time we talked of her you would've drained her dry, had I let you."

Bodhi seemed to take slight offense at the word 'let'... but she quickly shrugged it off. "She demonstrates fine fighting skills, as well as magical talent. Her mind is an empty shell right now; it is very possible that I could turn her into one of my servants, a vampire sorceress without any will of her own."

"You would make her into what you were before the transference?"

"Yes, in a manner of speaking. Her condition will have to be changed, though; she is far too weak as of now to be turned. Feed her properly, give her body time to rest, and I will break her to my will."

Irenicus snorted in disgust, losing the little interest he had originally held for Bodhi's projects... none of it mattered to him anymore. Not when he was so close. "Do what you will with her. Greywulf is my only concern now."

Bodhi grinned wickedly and went to the cell where they had taken Imoen. The girl was still raging from the previous battle, pounding her hands raw upon the stone walls of her prison. She was malnutritioned, her bones tight to her skin; her hair was raggedy, kept short for the fights. She was still muscular though, and would serve just fine for what Bodhi needed to start with. Shaking her head to clear her thoughts, Bodhi turned away, ordering the orc guard to bring a plate of fresh food.

"Soon." Bodhi whispered, "You will fight as my loyal servant... and all will tremble."

Imoen responded with a scream of rage, throwing herself against the cage door, startling Bodhi despite herself.

Bodhi recovered quickly and smirked once more, than left Imoen to the darkness of her own thoughts, the feral girl sending bolts of pure rage through her eyes at the departing vampire. As she calmed down from her battle frenzy, Imoen curled up in the corner of her cell, the only sound a constant dripping of water into her cell. Despite her outward barbaric actions... Imoen's mind was not as empty as Irenicus and Bodhi had taken for granted; she still tried to think of what she had once known: outside, light, friends?

_Friends? I once knew… friends. Yes, they were… but why can't I remember? Why haven't I been rescued? I'm alone…empty. All I know is that I will be free of Bodhi and Irenicus. I will free myself, find out what they did to me, and I will take my revenge._

As these disjointed thoughts left Imoen's mind, she saw the shadow of an orc darken her cell, the beast dropping a plate of meat and vegetables inside the bars of her cell, before grunting and leaving. Imoen slowly crawled over to it and pulled it back over to her corner in the cell, eating it hungrily and as wildly as possible, maintaining her illusion of mindlessness. As she did, Imoen allowed herself as tiny smile, knowing that at long last, she had one advantage over her captors, and she had no intention of giving it up. But deep down inside, in the farthest corners of her fragile mind, she could feel that the act she put on the front of madness she displayed for Bodhi and Irenicus was slowly becoming more than a front.

The one fateful night when she had been left in a cell with the four other prisoners... they had confronted her, attempted to kill her- she had naturally been angry as they attacked, at first helpless against their strength; but the rage grew. It grew and grew until she saw red, until she felt... stronger. Faster. The desire to kill grew stronger and stronger until it was they who had been afraid. Terrified. She barely remembered them backing away from her, the fear crossing their faces... and then nothing. All she knew afterwards was waking up with blood- their blood- all over her. No... her mind was not nearly as fragile and empty as she made it out to be. But as her brief smile faded, she felt what she knew... hoped to be false, slowly taking a grip in reality. She shook it aside once more, and prayed that her will would last long enough to escape her wretched prison.


	31. Part 1: Love, Faith, Duty

_Author's Note: Wow! My very first fic, and you guys have been totally awesome in reading, been nice enough to review... almost brings a tear to me eye.(But crying isn't manly, so like I said... almost. Hehehe.) Here we are, the end of Part 1. Don't worry, Parts 2 and 3 are coming up right after this on the same story link... so in all reality it's still one fic. It just felt right to, in name at least, split it up; it's what I'd do if actually releasing it as a book. _

_Thanks for showing the new guy some love!_

_- Captain Incredible_

"At least two thousand more." Yoshimo sighed, refilling the Bag of Gold they kept their money in. "Close, true... but fifteen thousand is yet out of our reach."

"We can't keep waiting like this!" Greywulf snapped, letting all he frustration he had been feeling for so long bleed out into his voice. "It's been almost two months since we lost Imoen; every day we wait is another day she suffers with Irenicus. I will not see her die because of a few thousand gold pieces! We've spent that much and more traveling together in the past, Imoen's depending on us and I swear we won't let her down."

"A very invigorating speech, but the fact of the matter is that two thousand gold is a lot and we don't have any way of getting it right now." Keldorn said calmly, never wavering in tone or temperament..

"Surely it won't take us too long to find the rest?" Aerie offered. "It didn't take us too long to get what we have now."

"We've been far too lucky so far." Jaheira countered. "The chances of so many powerful organizations encountering so many problems, all dire enough for them to pay so well has been... unexpected, to say the least. We cannot expect further jobs to be so lucrative."

"Perhaps if we deliver the money we currently possess, the Shadow Thieves might accept the rest at a later date." Greywulf mused, his temper rapidly calming after his initial outburst. "Unlikely, I know, but it might be worth a shot-"

"A complete waste of time." Jaheira cut him off as she tucked a stray braid behind her pointed ears. "Shadow Thieves will respect no such promise of repayment. We all know they would refuse their services until we garner and deliver every last copper. Our plight is nothing more than an opportunity for them... the gold is all they care about."

"What about the offer made for ten thousand?" Minsc asked. "Boo and Minsc would welcome some monster hunting in the open plains."

"Ten thousand?" Keldorn asked, turning his head sharply with a look of surprise at Minsc. "What manner of job would warrant such a large payment?"

"A few weeks ago, a man by the name of Jierdan Firkraag offered us a commission of ten thousand gold to rid his land of a band of ogres, trolls and other such monsters. Naturally, it seemed a bit too good to be true, so we went to the Government Hall to see what we could find about the man. He's the official Lord of the Windspear Hills, though from what we read, the man has a pretty shady history as far as how he came to power. We had something of an abundance of work at the time, so we haven't taken him up on it yet." Greywulf explained.

"Firkraag…." Keldorn's eyes narrowed slightly; his face abruptly returned to normal after a split second, the only sign anything had changed was a slight hardening around his eyes.

"Do you know of him?" Aerie asked.

"Perhaps... yes. Something of him, yes. Nothing of import, though. I fear I know naught more than what you describe."

"Are you sure? Even a little extra information would be-" Greywulf began to inquire, noticing Keldorn's abrupt change of mood.

"I am sure. If we are to do this, we should hurry." Keldorn interrupted, averting his eyes. "Imoen is waiting... and for the amount he offers, I do not think this Firkraag can be trusted."

Greywulf nodded and then gathered up the map laid upon the table, noting as he did, "Let's get going then. The sooner we get to the Windspear Hills, the better. Besides, we still have to deliver these magical acorns, remember?"

"Minsc almost forgot about those." the ranger said thoughtfully. "Boo would not like us to break a promise to those kind dryads. We must hurry and fulfill our word of righteousness!"

With that, they exited the Copper Coronet and moved silently through the last few hours of daybreak, exiting the slums of Athkatla and heading for the city gates. After running off a would be mugger, who after seeing the sword and axes of Keldorn and Minsc brandished at him decided it would be more profitable elsewhere, they reached the city gates and entered the lands of Amn once again. Greywulf glanced towards Keldorn as they moved, the paladin's face and gaze continually in what looked like deep thought, never really responding to anything unless put to him directly. The sorcerer tried to think of some way to subtly inquire about the source of Keldorn's trouble, but nothing seemed to come to mind. Perhaps it was the aura of authority he exuded, or merely a respect for his age, but nothing he came up with seemed quite appropriate.

At the very least, whatever was bothering him seemed focused on this Firkraag; that combined with the previous knowledge they had gathered about the noble made for quite the unease as they drew closer to the Windspear Hills. With any luck, their course would lead them there before the day's end, but night would be close following by their entrance into the land. Not exactly the most auspicious circumstances to be entering into a hostile land filled with monsters at best, treachery at worst-

"G-Greywulf? Do you have a moment... I wanted to talk with you for a moment."

Aerie's voice brought him back to the present, turning as he glanced down to his side, the Avariel looking up at him with a hint of worry in her blue eyes. "Oh... of course. What is it?"

"I… I just wanted to say that I am sorry for the way I yelled... for shouting at you yesterday. You were just trying to help... and I threw it back in your face."

Aerie felt her cheeks tinting red again as she apologized, knowing how she must sound. Her moods and depression shifting and twisting every so often... and putting this man through it all. He didn't have any reason to put up with it... hopefully he would be satisfied with her words and leave it at that.

"I sometimes feel… I feel as if I have been weighted down by many stones. Still, I should not have reacted so to your words. I will understand if you don't wish to speak of it any more, it-"

"It's alright, Aerie." Greywulf cut her off, trying to be gentle with her as he pushed away her fears. "Do you think you're the only one who's ever gotten frustrated with this life? Frustrated with the people around you? Believe me, I did my share of complaining and soul-seeking the first few weeks of traveling on the road. Ask Jaheira... well, maybe you shouldn't ask her. No need to bring back memories she can needle me with."

"I suppose… I suppose you are right." Aerie sighed, his tone comforting her as a smile blossomed on her face again. "I guess this isn't as easy as I thought it would be. You... you and the others make it seem so easy. You never question your decisions or worry if you're making a mistake... I wish I had your confidence."

Greywulf nearly choked as he listened to her words. _Confidence? Has she been traveling with someone else this whole time?_ "Aerie... you're right, it's not as easy as you may have thought, nor as I may make it seem. Every time we take on a job or travel somewhere, I take on the responsibility that if we get hurt, or if one of us dies... I was the one leading us. I made the choice. And it turns my stomach inside out, not knowing if this job or this quest is our last."

"But you always seem so..." Aerie protested.

"Carefree? Easy-going? I have to make jokes and pretend I don't care if Faerun blows up... I'd go nuts if I didn't have some way to put my mind at ease. That doesn't mean I'm not just as worried as you, or that I don't lay awake some nights, wondering just how I've managed to screw up so badly. Don't ever expect to be carefree or feel absolute certainty about every decision you make. It won't happen; if it does, tell me your secret. The real problem is when you start to dwell on it... when you let the bad outweigh the good. Try and keep that in mind... you'll do fine, Aerie."

"I shall try, Greywulf." Aerie said. "Thank you for all your advice and words... they have been a great comfort to me. Perhaps... perhaps someday I can provide you comfort when you need it as well."

He watched her lag behind him again, noting the extra burst of cheer she seemed to have gained; maybe she could make it past all this. He had grown rather fond of the girl in the short time they'd traveled together; if what Jaheira said was true about Aerie... well, perhaps it wouldn't hurt to see what might be between them.

The rest of the travel was spent almost entirely in silence and solitude for each party member, the weather turning poor abruptly. Showers and thunderheads provided a somewhat miserable hike for the last half of the day. Even stopping briefly for a meal proved to be a struggle, the fire almost impossible to light with the rain dampening all their attempts. Greywulf and Aerie's magic was able to ignite some flame for them, but it hardly seemed worth the trouble.

Because of the delay, they were only able to reach the border of the Wood of Sharp Teeth just before the light of dusk was completely gone. With the forest at their backs, the Windspear Hills would be easy to reach and in daylight when they started out tomorrow. Thankfully, the storm had ceased almost as soon as they reached the forest, providing them with not only relief from the rain but a ready source of firewood; it made quite the welcome camp site rather than continuing down into the stretch of open plains that rolled out towards the Windspear lands. Greywulf stopped the procession, scouring the area ahead as he looked through the plains below. The dusk light was just enough to let the landscape glimmer wherever any water still lay from the storm that had plagued the day.

"What do you say, Greywulf?" Yoshimo's voice interrupted his plain-gazing, Greywulf glancing over to see the thief approach with his customary grin. "Shall we make camp for the night here?"

"I don't see why not... it's rather what I was planning." Greywulf said, scouring the area around in the last few moments of light.

"Yes sir, camping will be quite nice, drying off in the tents after a full day of walking about the hills in the rain." Yoshimo continued, smiling at Greywulf the whole time.

"Er…yes, I suppose it will be."

"Nothing like a good night of camping in a warm, dry tent, eh?"

Greywulf sighed, "Okay, Yoshimo, what are you going on about- oh hell."

Yoshimo laughed and said, "So, we remember now?"

Greywulf rubbed his head with one hand, cursing his memory. "We forgot to buy new tents before we left Athkatla, didn't we."

"That's right." Yoshimo said, obviously enjoying himself. "And who reminded you just before we left the Copper Coronet?"

"That would be you."

"Correct. And who said they'd bet you a week's worth of night watch duty in the wilderness if he forgot?"

Greywulf looked up with more than a hint of irritation. "You."

"Yes, correct again. And who-"

"Wants an enchantment that will cause some very interesting effects on bladder control if he says another word about the damned tents?" Greywulf interrupted, one eyebrow raised.

Yoshimo looked rather stricken for a second, as if trying to determine the seriousness of Greywulf's threat, but the mage merely nodded and said, "That's what I thought. Now go get a meal set up while the rest of us get the blankets out. It's nicer sleeping under the stars anyway."

Yoshimo shrugged and walked off, although a faint snickering could be heard from him as he left Greywulf's presence.

Greywulf snorted in disgust, briefly considered making good on his threat, then decided against it and walked over to Keldorn, who was pulling a blanket from his pack for the night. He studied the paladin for a moment longer, the memory of his talk with Aerie echoing back in his head. It was true... every time he brought them out, it was their lives he was risking alongside his own. By all rights they shouldn't have survived this long... but he did everything possible to ensure they stayed alive. And that meant knowing everything possible... even if that involved pressing the issue. He steeled himself and approached Keldorn, kneeling beside him. "Keldorn... do you think it will be safe to camp here tonight?"

"Why do you ask?" Keldorn inquired as he continued to unpack a few food supplies.

"Seeing as you've been around here a little more than the rest of us, I thought you might know where the safer places are to… sleep… and such things."

Keldorn shook his head with a weary smile, "Well, I can't see why we shouldn't camp here. Seems like a perfectly fine place to me… no dragons or ogres in sight, that always helps with getting a good night's sleep. So, young man, now that we've gotten through the pleasantries, what do you really want to talk to me about?"

"What makes you think I have anything else to ask?" Greywulf asked, trying to find that perfect tinge of innocence to slip into his tone.

"You're a terrible liar. Now stop wasting both our time."

Greywulf laughed, then nodded and said, "All right... I wanted to ask you about Firkraag. You might have said otherwise back in Athkatla, but I think you know more than you're letting on."

Keldorn arched one eyebrow, then exhaled loudly and replied firmly, "I already told you... I have nothing else to say on that matter."

"You're not exactly a great liar yourself."

Keldorn smiled weakly and then sighed. "All right then, boy. If you must pry into my personal business, then I suppose I shall accommodate you."

"I didn't mean to pry-" Greywulf began, only to be cut off by Keldorn, saying with a wave for him to sit down, "Yes you did. Now shut up, sit down and listen. Greywulf... have you ever been loved?"

Greywulf was taken aback by the question, but then answered, "Well, yes, I suppose."

"I mean by a woman. By someone you knew you were going to spend the rest of your life with; someone whom you would have done anything for? A woman you gave your heart to because you knew it was a love that would never fade... never fail?"

"No. I can't say I have." Greywulf answered, serious.

"I didn't think so." Keldorn answered, a sad and weary tone in his voice. "I did. Once, years ago, I was married with a wife, daughter, and a son. We lived in the smaller, poorer area of the Government District... we had the money to afford better, but Maria never wanted our children to think we were better than the other families. She made sure they grew up right and with respect... I couldn't have been prouder of them."

"My duties to Torm and the Church kept me away from home much of the time, but there was never any doubt about the love we had for each other, as a family, and as husband and wife. My daughter had just turned eighteen… my son fifteen. Maria and I were nearing our twenty-fifth anniversary; I can still remember it so clearly. I hated getting gifts, but Maria... she reveled in giving them."

"She knew I had seen a particular set of dress clothes at the tailor. They were far too expensive for something as unnecessary as clothing of course, but Maria... she always wanted to surprise me. She never could keep secrets well, but she tried hard; paying a servant of a friend to pick up the clothes and bring them to a house where she would be having lunch a few days later... I think she knew I would figure it out, but she enjoyed the game anyway."

"I was called away on a mission a few weeks before our anniversary, but Maria never complained once. She merely helped me with my armor, kissed me at the door and told me she loved me... she waved with my daughter and son as I left, still unable to keep the smile off her face. I barely overheard her telling our children how surprised I would be when she gave me the clothing."

"It sounds wonderful." Greywulf commented, the idyllic scene resonating in his head with a faint hint of wistful jealousy at never having experienced such a life, such contentment.

"It was. Until they died. Until all of them were murdered in my own home."

Keldorn's words cut deep into his soul and brought him crashing down with a flash of regret, the sorrow and grief just barely evident under the surface of his tone. "I… I'm sorry, Keldorn. I didn't mean to bring up such memories."

"The mission was supposed to be straightforward." Keldorn continued, his voice hard with memory. "Evidence had recently come to light, uncovering the whereabouts and guilt of a criminal organization with roots spreading all the way to the trading posts in Icewind Dale, if you can believe it. Slaves, smuggling, assassinations, political dealings... nothing was too low or too high for these criminals. They had even forced the Shadow Thieves into a deal of sorts, the Thieves unable to rid Athkatla of their influence. My assignment was to lead a number of other paladins from the Order into their headquarters and capture their leaders so they might stand trial. At the time, our team was joined by a group of Harpers, also seeking the downfall of these criminals."

"They resisted as was expected... but we fought valiantly and eventually overcame their soldiers. Thanks to the Harpers, we managed to capture the majority of them, though much blood was spilt in the process; many good men and women died in battle that day. Still, there was one leader we had heard of who was not among those we fought or captured. Everything we had heard indicated him as a man of great if not prime importance; his power and wealth must have been equally great, for nobody would speak against him, nor could any evidence be procured against him despite our attempts in the weeks and months to come. The name was Firkraag."

"And you think it's the same Firkraag here?"

"I do. We suspected he left the area after our capture of the other leaders, but there was no trail to be found. I never would have thought it would be back to Athkatla. It makes sense though; somehow… somehow he found out that I was the leader of the incursion group who went after him. The mission only took two and a half weeks; I arrived back in Athkatla the day of our anniversary. I didn't even bother to report to the Order Hall before heading home..."

_Relief flooded through his body as Keldorn pushed the door open; he could hardly wait to embrace his wife and his children. Once more the gods had seen fit to answer his prayers; he was safe and he was home, even in time for their anniversary. Maria would be so happy... "Maria!"_

_Nobody answered his call; Keldorn shook his head wryly, they were probably planning to surprise him. He walked as quietly and softly as he could manage in the heavy plate armor he was stil wearing towards the main living quarters from the hall, his smile slowly growing as he saw the frame of his daughter in the chair by the door, facing away from the hall. He would have to tease the girl; not hearing her father approach in full armor even... she was getting sloppy._

_The girl did not move as he drew even closer, Keldorn's smile slowly dropping, frowning in confusion as he came closer... finally seeing the large stain of red that covered the back of the chair and dripped to the floor. Keldorn cried out in alarm as he darted in and faced the girl in horror; a mammoth sword wound was embedded in her chest as she lay slumped over. Across the room was his son; he lay in the center of the floor, a fire poker clutched in one limp hand as his open eyes stared at nothing, another set of slashes and wounds cut into his body. Keldorn stumbled back, sobs of grief issuing from his throat as his vision blurred-_

_"Maria!!" Keldorn shrieked; he turned and rushed through the house, quickly darting upstairs, his hand at the hilt of his sword as his heart thudded in fear and dread-_

_He turned the corner to their bedroom... Maria's form lay on the bed, limp and unmoving. No blood marred or stained the picture... the fine silk of the clothes she had bought for him was wrapped around her neck again and again, the color of her face dark and ugly from the strangling. He dropped to his knees by the bed, sobbing, racked with agony as his heart was torn from him again and again with the sight- _

Keldorn's body jolted as the memory passed within his mind's eye again; Greywulf was still waiting for him to finish. He shook his head, "When I arrived home from the mission, my wife and children were dead... slaughtered without mercy."

Greywulf bowed his head low and whispered, "I had no idea, Keldorn. Forgive my intrusion."

Keldorn did not answer; he merely stared off into the darkness. "I never could prove Firkraag's guilt... but I have always known the truth. Without any proof to justify my suspicions, he bears no guilt for me to act upon as a paladin of Torm. Since that day, the Order has been my whole life. It is all I have left; I fight on in hopes of seeing my family again one day in eternity."

"You will, Keldorn. You are a honorable man; your family would be proud of you."

"Thank you Greywulf; but please... I need some time alone."

Greywulf nodded and left the older man to sit by himself next to the stone ring Yoshimo and Minsc had constructed for the fire. Keldorn's words still seared his mind and heart; Greywulf had always felt he was entitled to be grieved over the loss he had suffered. He felt ashamed now, his life had been pathetically easy compared to the things Keldorn had gone through. By the gods, it had better not be the same Firkraag that had contacted them. If it was... Greywulf forced himself to unclench his fists. Exhaling deeply, Greywulf noticed Aerie unpacking her sleeping roll, though Jaheira was nowhere in sight.

"Where's Jaheira?" Greywulf asked, approaching Aerie.

"I think she went to gather firewood." Aerie answered, her brow knit in thought. "She should be back soon enough."

"Perhaps, but none of us should wander alone. I will go make sure she is alright."

Greywulf stood up to leave, though Aerie abruptly called out, "Actually, I was... I was hoping you would help me unpack a few things, maybe help set up the campsite?"

Greywulf glanced out into the dark wood behind them; it wouldn't take more than a few seconds. "As you wish."

He helped her with the small errands to do about the campsite; as they worked he asked her, "So, any regrets so far? I know it hasn't exactly been an easy road to travel, but I hope you've made some good memories."

"I have... and I think they outweigh the bad." Aerie said somewhat wistfully. "All the sights and experiences I've seen so far; I never would have experienced this had I stayed at the circus."

"You know we're lucky to have you with us, Aerie. You're not just some tag-along... you're part of the team, as corny as that sounds. That won't end until you decide it does."

"Thanks," Aerie said, setting the last of her things down with a smile. "You've shown me such things these past weeks and I have you to thank. If you hadn't come and freed us at the circus, or hadn't let me come along... I'd either still be under that spell or still working at the circus, afraid of my own shadow. I…I wanted to thank you, if you don't mind."

Greywulf began to decline graciously, saying that no thanks were necessary- he was interrupted by Aerie, who quickly leaned over and kissed him on the cheek. She walked off to Minsc with an obvious blush to her cheeks, helping him with the rest of the ranger's things.

Greywulf felt the place on his face where she had kissed him warm a bit; with a brief smile he strode off into the nearby forest, searching for the lone druid.

At the moment, Jaheira stood frozen in the forest, the quick yet stealthy creeping she had been doing coming to an abrupt halt as she stood like a statue, one arm in mid motion of putting another stick into the bundle tucked under one arm. In another time or situation it might have been blamed on an enemy nearby, a knife or sword at her back if she moved. Perhaps a group of archers had her trained in their sights, ready to kill should she make a run for it... but it was neither. A clearing was a few yards ahead, where two figures, a doe and fawn, stood together in the moonlight. The two animals slowly made their way through the clearing, every now and then stopping to listen to the noises of the night or peer through the dense wood. Almost a full minute passed as Jaheira watched them, unable to keep a smile from blossoming on her face- a snap echoed through the area, the doe's ears perking up as she and her fawn bounded quickly back into the wood, disappearing from sight.

Jaheira had been just as quick; by the time the deer were out of sight, Jaheira had already dropped her wood and drawn her spear, looking out into the forest for any hostile motion or intruders.

"Jaheira?" the questioning voice of Greywulf floated through the wood, Jaheira exhaling loudly as she returned her spear to it's strap upon her back. Greywulf stepped into view, a number of wood sticks under his arm as well.

"What are you doing out here?" Jaheira asked quietly as she picked up the wood she had dropped.

"You know as well as I that we are safer in groups." Greywulf said, striding over to Jaheira.

"I can take care of myself, you know." she remarked, stopping her wood collection to talk to Greywulf directly.

"Of all things I know that." Greywulf conceded. "Still, my point is valid."

"True." Jaheira admitted. "It has been some time since I have experienced the beauty of nature; I prefer to be alone at such times. I feel more at balance that way."

"My presence must affect that balance." Greywulf offered. "I imagine the taint of my blood cannot help it any."

"Perhaps, but you may underestimate yourself." Jaheira said, sitting down on a large, moss covered log beside Greywulf. "The good you have done, it goes against everything your nature suggests, yet it seems to me that you are more at balance than many others I know."

"I wish I felt as such." Greywulf sighed.

"I understand." Jaheira said, leading to a short pause. She cleared her throat and asked, "What did Keldorn say about the safety of this area?"

" 'Safe enough' were his words, as I recall." Greywulf said, trying to avoid any mention of the story Keldorn had relayed. It was not his place to share such a private memory. "How did you know what I asked him?"

"I have excellent hearing." Jaheira said with a smirk. "Remember that the next time you decide to make a joke at my expense when you think I am not listening."

"Kind of sad when you have to think about danger every time you make camp." Greywulf commented as he looked out into the night, his face half shadowed by the tree line, the other half only illuminated by moonlight.

"It is a dangerous life we lead... it has been so since the day you began. I know you did not wish it upon yourself, nor would Gorion have done so… but still; do you always think it will be so?" Jaheira asked.

"I don't know. I can't quite envision settling down, though it sounds kind of appealing every now and then. A bed instead of the ground, a table instead of the closest rock... the morning routine _not _including strapping on the weapons and armor and wondering what monster will try and kill us first." Greywulf replied, thinking about the prospect. "Not too bad at all. You?"

"Every great once in a while." Jaheira shrugged. "The inevitable must happen after all; bones grow weary and battle becomes foolhardy. I would not wish it anytime soon, but someday."

Jaheira was silent for a moment, then turned to the man beside her and asked with the usual hint of sarcasm in her voice, "Have you given any thought to this, or is your mind constantly taken up with thoughts of how best to woo fair Aerie?"

Greywulf smiled, refusing to be baited. "I can affect my immediate future, but there are other factors in the long run than what I may or may not want."

"Yes, your heritage adds something of a complicating factor." Jaheira said with a nod, abandoning any mocking tone she had held before. "You have a birthright of a sort... I wonder what you intend to do with it when age grants you wisdom."

Greywulf looked at Jaheira with knotted brow, as though hearing a sort of challenge in her words, but she merely continued to stare at the starlit sky. He shrugged after a moment, "In time I will come to terms with it. I intend to live a long, normal life."

Jaheira's head moved in the slightest hint of a nod, then said, "A fine aspiration, if not the king's choice. I know very few kings that live in peace. Equally few inspire loyalty in their followers, or their… companions."

They sat together in the dimly lit clearing for a few more moments, before Jaheira stood and said, "We had best get back to camp, before the others begin to worry about what has happened and come looking."

"I suppose you are right. Although it is beautiful here in the forest." Greywulf commented.

"It is a welcome change from the dirt and filth of the city; Silvanus knows we needed a change of scenery after trudging around that sewer." Jaheira said, craning her head to speak behind her as they tracked their way back to the campsite, a bundle of wood in each arm.

They walked in silence for a few more moments until the camp came into view, Aerie, Yoshimo, Keldorn and Minsc all sitting by the fire pit, awaiting their return.

"There you two are! What was the delay?" Aerie asked, a hint of irritation in her tone.

"We were just chatting a bit as good friends do; that's all." Jaheira said simply. "I trust Greywulf's absence did not upset you too much."

"Not at all... we were just worried, that's all." Aerie said with the faintest hint of a forced smile.

"Either way, we've got the wood so let's get the fire started and the food cooked. Morning will come soon and we'll need our strength." Greywulf interrupted, glancing between either woman. _This won't end well... definitely won't end well._

They eventually got the fire started, the wet condition of the wood easily remedied with a little help from Greywulf's magical talent; they all soon enjoyed a hot dinner and after a few minutes of enjoying one another's company and sharing a few stories from their past experiences, the group, one by one, said good night and retired to their respective beds. Jaheira was the last one to leave the fire and stayed awake by the fire pit, stirring the burning embers every now and then as she looked out into the night. She kept her spear at the ready and kept watch for almost three hours after the last of the others began their slumber; finally, just as the last flame died, she was overcome with fatigue and slipped into darkness and dreams.

X X X X X X X

"Come on…come on, wake up…" Greywulf grunted slightly as the voice gently wafted through his ears, bringing him out of his sleep.

As he turned over once more, he thought it quite interesting how Jaheira could stay up so long at night and still wake up earlier than everyone else to prepare for travel with enough sleep to still be semi-aware. The voice continued once again, "C'mon, ya sleepy ladies and gents, get your arses' out of bed…"

Greywulf frowned as his eyes slowly began to squint open, wondering two things: _Why is Jaheira talking like that; doesn't sound like her at all. And why is it still mostly dark outside?_

Greywulf's groggy mind slowly began to gain a deeper understanding of his situation, when a loud, "WAKE UP!!" echoed through the area, jolting all of the sleeping adventurers out of their dozing.

The early morning sunrise was still a few minutes away, but it was certainly bright enough to behold the disturbing sight before them. Three men were standing away from their general camp by about two or three meters, each of them with an unsavory look about them. Greywulf practically jumped to his feet, clutching the quarterstaff that had been lying next to him through the night. The others were at the ready not a second after him... all except one.

"Jaheira." Greywulf whispered in horror.

A man in plate mail and wearing a large sword at his waist was holding Jaheira close to him, one arm holding her around the waist with her back to him, the other with a sharp, wicked looking dagger at Jaheira's throat. The half-elf had her head upraised, her neck exposed to the blade below her chin; for one of the few times in Greywulf's time he had known her, he saw fear in the woman's eyes.

"Greywulf…" Jaheira grunted, struggling only slightly with the man who held her. "I'm sorry."

"My, but you all are sound sleepers." The bandit leader who held Jaheira remarked, looking at the five warriors before him, none daring to attack or even draw their weapons for Jaheira's sake. "Didn't hear us sneak up, take your lovely little friend here, nothing at all. Should be ashamed of yourselves."

"I swear, if you harm her, I'll-" Greywulf threatened through gritted teeth, but was cut off by a yawn from the man with the dagger.

"You'll what? Vow to hunt me down to the ends of the earth and cut out my heart to exact your terrible vengeance? I've heard it all before, mate. But I can tell by the look in your eyes that as long as I hold this lass here, you'll not do a thing. Oh, introductions. I be Ertof Dand, and these are my merry men. I'd ask for your names, but with this dagger held to the lasses' throat, I wouldn't want one of ye to try something and me to… slip."

Greywulf's eyes flared as he stared down the bandit... but in his heart he knew the man spoke the truth, he would not dare make any move while Jaheira was a wrist jerk away from death.

"So, now that we've got the preliminary threats and introductions out of the way, why don't we do what we came here for. If you would all be so kind as to hand over all your money, we can all get what we want. Well, actually we'll be the only ones getting what we want, but at least you won't be dead, and that's not so bad, right?"

Keldorn gripped his sword hilt tight and slowly, quietly began unsheathing the blade, only to be stopped by an upraised bow from one of the other bandits. Ertof Dand shook his head and tsked. "Oh no. You'll be keeping that blade in the sheath unless you want this pretty woman to gain a new breathing vent. Now, your gold... please."

Greywulf's mind pounded like a hammer as his options raced through his mind. _I can't let them hurt Jaheira. She and I have gone through too much for it to end like this. I will not see her die. But if we give up our money, we'll never rescue Imoen in time. Either way, someone I love dies. What can I do?_

There was a brief moment of eternal silence, whereupon Greywulf spoke. "No deal."

Dand raised his eyes in surprise and said, "Oh really? Then she means nothing to you, I assume."

"Not that. She means more to me than you know." Greywulf countered angrily. "Let her go, I'll be your hostage. That's the deal."

Ertof sighed, then said somewhat melodramatically, "Ah, of course. Here's where we get to the 'hero bravely sacrifices himself for his lady love'. Of course, I can't really blame you for wanting to keep her alive, she's quite a looker. Well, my dear, what say you?"

Jaheira's eyes flashed with a mixture of anger and fear; she hissed to the wizard before her, "Greywulf, do not dare to give yourself to these dogs! They will not keep their word-"

She was cut off by the dagger sliding closer to her neck, her head tilting back further as she swallowed hard, the blade gleaming in the morning light. "It seems she's given her opinion on the matter. So, what now, hero?"

"We must protect Jaheira, we cannot let her be harmed!" whispered Minsc, barely containing his battle fury.

"By all means, take your sweet time if you want her to die." Ertof said grimly, scraping the dagger back and forth across Jaheira's neck.

Greywulf bowed his head in despair, then threw down his staff, the weapon rolling off to the side. "I gave my terms." Greywulf whispered hoarsely. "Take me, let her go. I have no weapon at the ready. Let's make this easy."

He sighed with exasperation, then grinned and said, "All right. I agree, let's make this easy. Fedran, take the shot!"

Time seemed to slow around the party as the events of the next few moments unfolded. A gasp of shock was heard from Jaheira as the bow in one of the bandit's hands twanged, the string vibrating as an arrow was loosed. The missile flew through the air, it's target far too slow to evade the hit. With a loud yet sickening noise, the arrow pierced cloth, flesh and blood, an expulsion of air coming from Greywulf's mouth with the impact. Jaheira heard Greywulf's scream echo through the clearing... no, Greywulf's mouth was closed. It was not the wounded, but herself who had screamed in anguish as Greywulf stiffened with the impact, falling to his knees and slumping to the ground, the arrow buried deep in his chest, directly over his heart.

The four others jolted forward in terror and shock, but once more, a quick movement of the dagger stopped them. Ertof gripped Jaheira tighter and said with no hint of patience or mockery, "If you don't want another dead one on your hands, let's hand over the money. Now."

Keldorn's eyes blazed with righteous anger as he slowly began removing the Bag of Holding from his belt, walking towards one of the bandits, his hand outstretched for the money. Jaheira could no nothing but stare in shock at the body of her fallen comrade, lying on his side as blood flowing from the wound. Her vision clouded as tears began to flow into her eyes... she had failed. Again, she had let her guard down and someone she loved had died. Not a dream, not some vision or torment... this was real. She had failed, and he was... she would have started in surprise if not for the dagger at her throat. Greywulf's hand twitched, no reflex, but a purposeful movement. She looked closer and saw the mage's eyes meet hers; though the pain was obvious in the half-elf's body, he brought one hand forth, trembling as he attempted to raise it. Her eyes glanced around surreptitiously to make sure nobody was noticing the dying man's movements, but everybody else was completely tense, watching as Keldorn slowly approached to hand over their gold.

She looked back at Greywulf, who had managed to make an arcane gesture with one hand and was beginning to form a few incantations with his mouth, a small trickle of blood coming from his lips as he whispered. With every passing second the strain on his face was more evident; just as he mouthed one more word, he flashed his palm outward, and the dagger in the man's hand who held Jaheira at knifepoint began to tremble before flying out from his grasp, shooting into the ground beside Greywulf's now limp body, his hand and head slumped to the ground.

"What the-" Ertof began to exclaim, just before Jaheira broke free of his grasp with a howl of unbridled rage. With the release of Jaheira from danger, Keldorn swung the bag with all his might, slamming it into the man's chin and stunning him momentarily. That brief moment was enough for Yoshimo to slip a throwing knife from his belt and hurl it, sticking through the man's neck. Before he had even hit the ground, Keldorn and Minsc had both lunged for the other bandit. Jaheira had pulled the dagger from the ground next to Greywulf's body and tackled Ertof Dand to the ground. Aerie ran over to Greywulf and begun what healing spells she knew while Yoshimo was moving up quickly with his katanas to aid Jaheira.

Ertof saw the fury in her eyes as they wrestled for control of the dagger; with a quick elbow to her chin, he snapped up from the ground and took off running, Jaheira in close pursuit. The other bandit was quickly dispatched by the blades of the warriors, striking without mercy or compassion. Yoshimo did not pause but called behind him as he ran, "I will aid Jaheira!"

Keldorn and Minsc hurriedly went over to Aerie who was busily trying to revive Greywulf, casting her healing magics as fast as she could, searching for some sign of life in his body. Keldorn and Minsc could do naught but look on as seconds passed by, Greywulf's body still lying motionless, Aerie's attempts at healing fruitless…

X X X X X X X

Irenicus sat alone in the dark, meditating upon his plans, drawing his dark magic around him much like a shroud, covering himself and his thoughts. He thought of Imoen, who was slowly being bent to Bodhi's will, to become a vampire just like Bodhi, undead for eternity. He thought of Greywulf, and what he would do with the mageling when he finally had him in his possession once again. Greywulf… as he stretched out with magic tendrils, attempting to hone in on the man by that name, he suddenly felt a pulse of pain. It was surprisingly strong; he concentrated further, trying to determine the source… "NO!" Irenicus screamed, standing to his feet, his eyes blazing in fury. "You incompetent fool! He cannot die now! You will save his life or you will share his fate!!"

As Irenicus raged in his chambers, Imoen shivered in her cell, hearing Irenicus' howl echo through the halls of Spellhold. _What's his problem?_ she thought. _Not a scream of pain…anger, that's it. But why? And why, just a minute ago, did I feel a sense of despair, like something…someone close to me just vanished?_

Imoen shivered once again, then shut her eyes and tried to block out the flood of memories starting to return to her.

X X X X X X X

Leaves flew past him as his footsteps thudded against the ground, the bandit's pulse racing as he darted through the forest, hoping to evade the fury driven woman behind him. He had abandoned his heavy plate armor and shield to lighten his run, yet she was still keeping up with him, though she had not dropped anything. No, she still had that dagger in her hand, the look in her eyes showing that she would accept nothing but his death, so he did not even try to negotiate or charm his way out of it. He kept running, trying to escape the death behind him.

He heard farther off another sound of feet running, probably one of the other warriors; maybe the smaller, oriental man. He looked pretty fast, but this girl was his main threat right now. He took a split second to look behind him; sure enough, she was right there on his heels, never losing step with him. The fear kept him running and for a brief moment, he thought he might be able to lose her... if he could, there was a darkened cave embedded in a rock wall bordering the forest where he and the other two had made their hideout. She would never find him there. He swerved abruptly and made his way back to their hideout as fast as he could, stopping behind a tree at one point when he felt he could no run no longer. He peeked around the plant, but saw nothing of Jaheira. He cautiously looked around for a few seconds more, than darted back to the cave he had been seeking.

He ran inside quickly and pulled the makeshift door closed with great effort, relief running through him. It had been too close... and for all the negotiating and death, he was alone without partners, and hadn't made any money out of the deal. Last time he would ever try the hostage situation, he thought as he turned to ignite the fire pit with some flint and steel. Next time he'd just kill them and take the money from their corpses- the spark from the flint was enough to illuminate the figure of Jaheira sitting across from him in the darkness, holding the dagger so tight her knuckles were white. He screamed once as he stumbled to his feet and backed towards the closed door, stuttering, "How… how did you find me?"

She did not answer, instead she stood and slowly walked towards him, the dagger she had pointed directly at the bandit, who was trying to open the rock door, though far too slowly to escape in time. It suddenly dawned on him that he still had a sword, and he quickly whipped the weapon out in front of him, hoping to keep Jaheira at bay. She seemed undaunted by the larger weapon and merely continued her approach, hissing at the man, "Your threats mean nothing to me. My husband is dead, and now you have killed one of the few people I had left in this world to hang on to. You cannot possibly hurt me any further."

Ertof lunged at Jaheira's midsection in haste, hoping to stop the coming assault, but the attack was made poorly and dodged easily. Jaheira took advantage of the man's off-balanced attack and barreled into him, knocking them both to the ground, Jaheira on top of the man with his own dagger put at his neck. He was attempting to keep Jaheira from slicing it across his neck, but he was losing ground steadily, and there was no stopping the infuriated woman. As the trembling blade moved ever closer to Dand's neck, a blast of light shone in, the door being pushed aside. Yoshimo stepped in, his eyes wide with worry. "Jaheira! I-"

"Get out of here. _Now_." Jaheira said grimly as she pushed harder, moving the blade closer to the man's neck.

"Jaheira, let him go." Yoshimo entreated, wincing as though a throb of pain was running through his head. "He deserves death, but Greywulf might have a chance if you get back and help Aerie. She can't do it on her own. You must save him, please!"

Jaheira remained locked with the man for another few seconds, then she released her push with the dagger to instead slam his head down on the hard rock, knocking him senseless. She stood up and dashed off without a word, but the look in her eyes had changed from anger to fear; there was only one concern on her mind now. Yoshimo turned to run after her, only to hear a groan from the bandit behind him, slowly regaining consciousness. Yoshimo casually drew out his own bow and notched an arrow, then stepped over to the groggy man lying on the ground. As he tried to sit up, he was pushed back down by Yoshimo's boot on his neck. He looked up at the thief's face; angry, with none of it's usual cheer.

"Listen, and listen closely. I am going to tell you something… something that you need to know. You see, Jaheira and Greywulf, they will do whatever it takes to save a life. If that means a guilty man escapes, so be it. But they will not let one of their own, an innocent, die without a fight. Do you understand?"

Ertof nodded quickly, the sweat visibly lessening on his face, slowly realizing the import of what Yoshimo was saying and seeing his prospect for survival increasing. Yoshimo nodded once, then pulled back on the bow string and pointed it at the man's head, bringing fear anew back to the man. "See, that's what separates people like Greywulf and Jaheira from you and me. They respect life over revenge."

As he finished speaking, he aimed the arrow right between the man's eyes and whispered, "That's why it falls to people like us to do the darker tasks that need to be done. And this needs to be done."

X X X X X X X

Jaheira raced through the path she had previously taken, running faster than she had ever known, praying that she was not too late. She cursed herself for getting caught up in her anger when she should have been at Greywulf's side, healing him. The ghost of Khalid floated in front of her sight once again; the thought of losing Greywulf as well, the one friend she had opened up to and shared a bond with through the time she had grieved for her husband... the idea of him dying sent tremors down her body. So she shunted all thoughts away and focused only on her running, speeding through the forest until at long last, she reached the clearing of the previous battle. She rushed in completely out of breath, frantically searching out the form of the fallen sorcerer. Keldorn stood there, his face and manner downcast.

"Keldorn! I must see to Greywulf right now, before it is too late! Where is he?" Jaheira shouted.

Keldorn looked up at her from the ground where his gaze had been laying, and as he looked up at her, there was only deep grief and sorrow in his already weary eyes. "I'm sorry, Jaheira." Keldorn began with a raspy voice. "Greywulf… he has fallen into darkness. I fear there is naught you can do for him."

Jaheira whirled to see the others kneeling by Greywulf's body a few yards away, his form already beginning to glow as the pieces of his golden Bhaal essence stood just seconds away from ripping out of his body to leave him as dust.


	32. Part 2: Harping On Authority

**Part 2: Trust is for the Foolish… and the Dead**

"Where… where am I?" the man's own voice sounded tinny and unfamiliar to him; not that much was familiar to begin with.

A few things were still clear to him: for example, he could feel that he was lying on his back, and on a more uncomfortable note; his chest hurt like hell. Other than that... things were more than a little foggy. He tried to move, but another sharp burst of pain rushing through his chest sent him back down, grimacing as he tried to open his eyes and relieve some of the utter confusion that plagued his brain. A roaring set of thuds seemed to reverberate in his head as he lay there; footsteps, perhaps? Maybe it was some of his friends; even though he couldn't quite remember their names or faces at the moment, he knew he had some at the very least. Then again, he definitely knew he had enemies as well; perhaps it might be a good idea to start moving.

He tried to move again... once more, flat on his back. A new alternative was needed; seeing would be helpful, if nothing else. His eyes began to squint open slowly, the light of the outside world coming a bit too fast for his eyes to adjust. He shut them quickly, felt a few tears squeeze from his eyes with the effort, before he heard an oddly familiar voice respond to his original unanswered query. "You are in the plains of Amn, near the Windspear Hills, right next to the Wood of Sharp Teeth. You should know, seeing as you led us here. I suppose a little confusion on your part can be forgiven... though if you had simply remembered to buy new tents like I reminded you, none of this would have happened."

Finally, the man's vision finally began adjusting to the light of the sun in his face, and his blurry eyes cleared enough to make out a few human shaped forms kneeling over him. One was a young looking elf, though with the heritage of elves, she still could have been almost two hundred and not looked a day over twenty. Her hair in long blonde braided tails, she wore the robe of a mage and had the vials and components on her belt to go with it. A radiant quarterstaff was lying beside her and a long sling sat tucked inside her belt sash alongside a pouch undoubtedly filled with stones and bullets. There was a joyous expression across her face, obviously excited and relieved to see the man alive and well.

Beside her was an enormous man, balding though not old, just into the prime of his life actually. One purple colored tattoo adorned his face along with a number of scars from battle. He wore plate armor that looked well used and had two axes strapped to his back for easy draw. One large sword also hung at his side... and oddly enough, in one hand a small hamster sat and squeaked every now and then.

The third form took the shape of an oriental looking man, mostly likely from Kara-Tur, with what looked to be a long practiced grin on his face. His hair was black and came down both sides of his head in a flowing lock. He was of middling build and had two katanas strapped to his sides, a quiver and bow strapped to his back. A number of other gadgets were at his belt, a few obviously used for something not quite legal. "What do you think, Minsc? Will he recover? Because if not, I call dibs on his stuff." the voice that had just spoken said.

The large ranger turned to the thief and replied, "I think Greywulf will get better. He is very hardy, you know. Besides, Boo can smell life in him."

Minsc's hamster jumped down onto the chest of Greywulf and sniffed Greywulf's chin for a second, then squeaked again and scurried back to Minsc's awaiting hand. "Boo says you will make a full recovery. But he says you should shave your facial hair. You are looking scruffy."

"Give Greywulf a break, he's been through a lot today and it's just now midday." the elven girl admonished.

"We're just giving him a hard time, Aerie." Yoshimo protested, but she had bent down to hug Greywulf with joy saying, "I was so worried about you."

"Thanks, I guess." Greywulf said, returning the gesture of affection as he grimaced with pain in his chest. "Did I go somewhere? What happened to me?"

"You died." a strong voice came from behind the others, revealing itself in the form of a armored man with graying hair striding to the half-elf, just beginning to sit up. "What do you remember?"

Greywulf frowned for a moment, "Actually, not all that much. Pain… then darkness. I felt my very soul getting ripped away, pulled from my body. Then, it was like my soul was being ripped apart, like part of it desired to go one way, the other part a different way. Then, I felt a third pulling, stronger than the other two. I felt myself moving back…back to this body. Then I woke up."

The man nodded his head once and sat down in the grass beside Greywulf, stroking his own goatee. The aged paladin Keldorn, full of wisdom and valor, began to explain the story of what had happened to Greywulf. He related the whole tale: camping beside the forest, getting awoken by the bandits who had taken Jaheira hostage, Greywulf's attempted sacrifice for Jaheira's sake, and the fatal arrow hitting Greywulf and slaying him.

Greywulf listened to Keldorn; as he finished Greywulf asked, "That explains what happened... but there's still one problem. I should be dead. Don't get me wrong, I'm very happy to be alive, but the whole 'dead' thing should still be in effect."

"That would be Jaheira's work." Keldorn said, sitting back and brushing a small piece of grass and dirt off his armor.

"Jaheira? I knew she was a powerful healer, but this… I would have thought such a miracle beyond her abilities." he murmured as he looked at his bare chest, a scar already formed over his heart where he had been struck.

"She has much power, more than you know." Keldorn advised. "But you are right, she shouldn't have had this kind of spell among her repertoire. Only the most powerful of clerics can cast resurrection spells; perhaps a Grand Druid concerning her circle of magic. You might ask her yourself when she wakes up."

"Is she asleep then?"

"Yes; whatever spell she cast was a weakening one. It was obvious despite her attempts to hide it; she was in severe pain as soon as she had completed her incantations. She insisted she was fine, and indeed, there was no injury on her... still, she is resting across the hillside, perhaps taking a little sleep. She wanted some time alone and not to be disturbed, but I'm sure she wouldn't mind seeing you up and well."

"I think I will go and speak to her then." Greywulf said, wincing as he got to his feet.

He walked over the grassy field, reaching the apex of the hill they had camped upon and saw Jaheira's figure in the distance, lying upon the grass halfway down the other side of the hill. Walking as steadily as he could manage towards her, he smiled wearily as he looked upon the at the elven woman's sleeping form. Jaheira always had a certain exotic yet rugged charm about her... until her caustic wit was unleashed in its full glory. _One more debt I owe her. My life once again... I will repay you someday, Jaheira. Thank you._

As expected, he was unable to sneak up on her completely; he was just within ten feet of her before her beautiful green eyes flashed open and she sat up, a bit slower than normal, but definitely fast enough to have him in a headlock if he had been an enemy. Her face lit up with a bright smile when she saw the wizard standing before her; the prospective headlock became an embrace, the pain in his chest forgotten as the two were reunited again. "Greywulf! You have no idea how glad I am to see you alive..."

"Thanks-" Greywulf managed to get out before the 'headlock' started. In truth, it was more than he had expected to get the chance to say.

There it was... a swift palm to the back of his head that stung more than he cared to admit, an enraged look flashing across the druid's face.

"You IDIOT!! What were you thinking, hmm? Standing there in front of those dogs, unarmed, waiting to be turned into a pincushion? Did you lose what little sense you had to begin with?!"

Despite the ferocity in her tone, Greywulf couldn't help but smirk. "I see some things never change. A man can't even die around here without a lecture."

Jaheira glared for a moment, her face softening only a little. "Don't you _ever_ do something that stupid again, you hear me? Not in a thousand seasons!"

"I couldn't let you get hurt, Jaheira. I care for you too much to let that happen." Greywulf said, looking straight into her flashing yet nervous eyes.

"I understand, but please; I would not let it happen again, I swore it…" Jaheira trailed off abruptly as though having said too much, but Greywulf frowned and asked, "What wouldn't you let happen again?"

Jaheira took a deep breath and said with a surprisingly shaky tone, "When Khalid died... he was protecting me. It kept him fighting... he may not have died had it not been for me. Perhaps... perhaps it would be him standing here now, instead of me. I-I... _ahem_. I swore I would not lose you in the same manner. You mean a lot to me, you know? Ever since Khalid's death… you have been there for me. I do not think I could handle losing you as well."

The two shared a few moments in silence, neither seeing fit to disturb the quiet with words; the presence of one another was more than enough comfort after such a violent, treacherous event. Still, the curiosity eventually got the better of the sorcerer. He broke the silence with asking, "How exactly did you bring me back?"

Jaheira sighed gently before answering, "It is… was a powerful spell known as the Harper's Call. It is a boon endowed to a person when they first are made a full member of the Harpers; it can only be used once. The power will bring a person back to life at the cost of their own."

"Jaheira, just how much life are we talking here...?"

Jaheira looked away for a moment; when Greywulf poked her in the same area where he had been shot with the arrow, she recoiled in pain.

He hadn't even managed to get a word out before she put her finger over his lips, "No need. Your company is enough thanks... just shut up and let's get moving before the others start to think we were attacked again."

She helped support him as they made their way back to the others, Minsc and Yoshimo having something of a dispute about their game of stone, parchment, sword. Aerie was trying to settle the argument while Minsc argued the virtues of a sword over both parchment and rock... but it appeared everyone was more than happy to drop the subject as the two of them returned. Aerie looked Greywulf over once with a bit of worry as he gripped his quarterstaff and leaned on it, the rest of the group already packing up for their next leg of moving. "Are you sure you're feeling up to traveling? Perhaps you want to rest for a while longer-"

"He is fine." Jaheira answered brusquely. "We should not linger overlong while danger still lurks; he will survive this with some more healing tomorrow."

Aerie shot one more look at Jaheira before letting her glance drift over Greywulf for another second; she turned and followed the rest in packing up the last few belongings about the campsite. Minsc murmured something more to Boo as he shouldered his own things before Yoshimo and Keldorn followed up, waiting for the sorcerer to take lead. Greywulf sighed. In retrospect, it was a very, very good thing most of their employers didn't interview them before hiring.

_What? Me, I'm a half-elf, mid-twenties... parents? My foster father was good until he got killed by a Bhaalspawn... by the way, I'm one too. No, not the homicidal sort. The others... well, there's Keldorn. No, he's not that old. Only fifty-nine... but he fights like he's twenty-five, trust me. Minsc? Oh, he's a fantastic warrior. Yes, he's talking to a hamster. It's complicated... oh, excuse me. Minsc reminded me. A miniature giant space hamster. Yoshimo? Um... I think he's honest. No, he won't steal from you, I'm sure. What was that... those two? Why are they glaring at each other like they're going to throttle each other in their sleep? Well, see Jaheira thinks Aerie is a whiny, naive little child who lacks experience and judgment, puts us all in danger, and has fallen in love with me and should be let down before she gets hurt. Yes sir. Oh, Aerie thinks Jaheira is a bossy, overbearing nag who can't handle when anyone shows any interest in me but herself, and feels like she has the right to order everyone around. No sir, I haven't had a drink all day. Why do you ask? _

He chuckled to himself, shaking his head as he thought of the two women and their respective views on the matter. Sure, there had been in-fighting amongst the ladies of his party in the past: Branwen and Imoen had butted heads on occasion, Faldorn and Jaheira... well, that pairing only lasted an hour. Dynaheir and Safana were not the best of friends for that short bit of questing... either way, it wasn't that he was unused to the fighting, it was just that there had never been quite this much _suppressed_ animosity before. Direct situations were easy to deal with. Faldorn and Jaheira? Kick the evil Shadow Druid out of the party and it's done. Branwen and Imoen? Try and persuade the battle-happy cleric to ignore Imoen's pranks and she'd eventually lose interest. Sure enough, Imoen lost interest. Dynaheir and Safana? Hurry up and do the thief's quest, then separate. Easy as pie.

These two though... kicking either one out of the party wasn't an option, that much was certain. and even though most of their viewpoints on the other were probably paranoia... there was undoubtedly a hint of truth nestled in each as well. However, while the supposed 'romance' Aerie suspected between him and Jaheira was nonexistent to his knowledge, he still wasn't quite sure what he felt about Aerie. Sure, the young elf was pretty; there were times she had a zeal for the life she was experiencing that Greywulf found refreshing. There was something there though, he just wasn't quite sure what.

Jaheira on the other hand... the exact opposite of Aerie in so many ways. And yet... she could have been very attractive to him as well if he allowed himself such feelings. Beautiful and wise... but it would have been so, _so_ weird. She was coping with Khalid's death rather well, true, but it had still only been a few months since his death. Greywulf would have felt like an absolute heel, trying to romance the wife of his deceased friend right after he was dead. _No_, Greywulf thought, _I don't think Jaheira would go for it either. In fact, if she knew what I was thinking, she'd probably put me back in the grave herself. _

He shook his head once to clear his still muddled thoughts and started the rest of the day's hike. They moved slow on the descent to the plains that eventually stretched into the Windspear lands, the incline just steep enough to hinder the rate at which they moved, but not enough to present any real danger to the six of them. The ache in Greywulf's chest was slowly vanishing, and he could only assume the same was happening for Jaheira, the half-elf thankful for any lessening of pain as they traveled. His ribs were still sore from the altercation in the sewers, but two days worth of constant healing from Jaheira and Aerie had made the bones as strong as ever.

No sooner had they finally reached level ground did the sound of a horn echo across the hillside, drawing all their attention at once. The source was a lone horse and rider that stood upon the apex of a hill within visibility. The horse reared up once, its rider far too distant to make out any features or possible identity. As soon as the horse got its footing once more, it set out on a gallop straight down the hill, hitting a beeline for the party. Greywulf glanced at the others; Keldorn and Minsc were already preparing their weaponry for a fight if necessary, he could also hear Aerie beginning to mutter spells of protection for them as the newcomer reached the plains as well, slowing the horse to a trot as it approached.

The rider was no easier seen at close range; whomever sat upon the horse was cloaked and hooded completely, the shadow dark enough to obscure any possible looks at his face. The hands that gripped the reins were gloved, and no noise issued from the rider as the horse stopped, sitting on its mount and watching silently.

The silence combined with the looks of the figure combined to be a little unnerving; Greywulf stepped forward and cleared his throat. "Excuse me, is there something you wanted with us?"

One arm rose and pointed... not at Greywulf, at the person of Jaheira. The pointed finger abruptly curled, gesturing for the druid to join him on the horse.

"You do not know much about me if you would presume I would follow a cloaked stranger without any other knowledge." Jaheira said with more than a hint of skepticism. "Who are you? What claim do you have that I should follow you anywhere?"

The hooded figure pulled back the sleeve on his left hand and slid a bracelet off, with a swift toss, Jaheira snagged it out of midair, gazing down at the small glittering jewelry. Her brow knit in confusion for a moment... and then understanding. She looked up at the hooded figure, suspicion crossing her features as she tossed it back. "I see... are you certain?"

The figure nodded... Jaheira exhaled loudly, then turned to the others. "Greywulf, I fear... I fear I am needed elsewhere briefly. Apparently, there is important business I am bound to deal with; I have no choice in the matter. I shall not be gone long, I promise; continue on your path and I will pick up the trail as soon as I can. I should not be gone for more than a day."

"Hold on a second Jaheira... what's this all about? Is there some kind of trouble-"

"Nothing." she cut him off, already turning to mount the horse behind the cloaked figure. "As I said... I shall rejoin you as soon as possible. Do not be concerned about me."

Greywulf frowned for one second, then sighed. "If it must be so. I trust you know what you're doing. We will await you in the Windspear Hills."

Jaheira nodded; after a brief second, the two were out of sight, riding back towards the direction of Athkatla.

"What now?" Minsc asked. "Should we wait here for Jaheira to come back? Boo would not want her to miss the monster thumping."

"Well," Greywulf said thoughtfully, "It'll be sunset in a few hours, and I'm still sore. I say we make camp again, and this time, someone stands guard."

X X X X X X X

The wind rushed past her ears as the horse remained at a steady gallop over the one of the many plain stretches of land that led back to Athkatla. Jaheira squinted as she held on, wondering if Greywulf would spurn her advice and try to follow her back. It was just the kind of thing he would be prone to doing... no, Keldorn's wisdom should keep him there. No need for the quick exit any longer.

"You can slow down... they will not be coming after me. And by Silvanus, take that ridiculous looking hood off. It makes you look like a fool." she shouted into his ear as they rode.

The rider abruptly pulled on the reins, slowing them considerably. As soon as they were down to a good-paced trot, the figure pulled off the hood and craned his neck around, a wry smile across his features. "Did you truly recognize me so easily, Jaheira?"

"Disguise never was your strength, Berinvar." she smirked. "That and you are the only Harper I know who keeps their pin on a bracelet rather than a necklace."

"Any Zhentarim agents would be sure to look around the neck for a Harper pin... nobody would check around the wrist." he tossed behind him. "Except for you, on the off-chance the approaching stranger might happen to be me."

"Don't flatter yourself, Berinvar. When you travel as I do, you notice everything. Now what was so important that it required a Master to fetch me from my travels?"

"I received news from Galvarey... he has been given a message from the High Herald. A message for you."

"Galvarey?" Jaheira frowned, a bitter taste entering her mouth every time she heard the name. "That makes no sense, why would he receive a message when you have more rank here than he does, he is no Master Harper-"

"But I have just received a transfer once again, Jaheira." Berinvar sighed. "A day before the message arrived. Perhaps the Herald believed me to be gone by now. Regardless, Galvarey chose to make use of my rank while I yet remained to ensure you complied with the message. Regardless, this is the last you will see of me for a while."

"What is so important the High Herald himself would wish to contact me over?" she demanded. "I left my report with you only a few weeks ago; I know for a fact it was not incomplete."

"I cannot tell you exactly." Berinvar mused. "Galvarey kept much of the message to himself; only to be told to you once you arrived in Athkatla. He alone knows what the Heralds want, but if he believes it important enough to call you back, surely it is urgent."

"Of course, the self-important fool would only entrust himself with the message, though he believes you competent enough to deliver the signal." she growled.

"Remember Jaheira... this isn't Galvarey speaking to you. It is the voice of the Herald... if you value your standing as a Harper-"

"I will have the utmost respect for whom it is due." she said through a forced smile of gritted teeth. Berinvar glanced behind him with a chuckle, then kicked the horse up a bit as the city of Athkatla finally came into view over the distant horizon.

X X X X X X X

Greywulf slept fitfully that night, unable to get the rest he so deeply desired. Hours after everyone else had been slumbering, even the supposed camp guard Minsc, who despite his most valiant efforts had eventually left Boo to watch the camp alone. Needless to say, Boo wasn't exactly the guard most had wanted as their watchman. He slammed his fist into the pillow he slept upon, then sat straight up, weary eyed and sore. Minsc's snores echoed in his hearing... the sound of crickets chirping combined made something of a not-so-nice harmony. Aerie's soft breathing could even be picked out if he tried hard enough, though it did little to improve the mingle of noises in his ears. Trying to put his mind to rest once more, he gazed up at the starry sky, their path and destination running through his mind.

Imoen had always loved the cloudless nights, especially in the first few weeks of adventuring. It gave her something to take her mind off Gorion's death... and pretty soon, it was a nightly ritual for the two of them to try and see who could count the most stars. Somehow Imoen always seemed to win... but then again, he had a suspicion she was just spouting random numbers that were bigger than his. He shook his head with the memory, sighing lightly as he lay still.

It really had been easy before... move and survive, that's all he needed to know. Bounty hunters? Find out who's hiring them. Found out who's hiring them? Kill them. Bandits causing problems? Find the camp. Found the camp? Tear it down. Even now he supposed it could be boiled down to two or three simple statements... but back then, he hadn't known. Hadn't known why the hunters were coming. Hadn't known why he got so powerful and so tough when he was enraged. Had no idea why so many people treated him with such fear and hatred.

He hadn't been so afraid of letting everyone down... because back then, he hadn't known about the prophecies. Hadn't known that his hand might be the one to let loose rivers of blood through Faerun. Now... every decision he made, the question was always there: _Is this it? Is the step you take over the brink to a destiny of bloodshed and murder, just like Sarevok?_

He shut his eyes again and tried to drown out his fears with the sound, willing it to be silent... and then he heard a new sound. A faint trickle of music seemed to filter into his hearing, growing stronger and louder until he was sure he was not imagining things. Singing... it was strangely enticing. He quietly stood, eyes peering out into the darkness to find the source. Off a distance, he saw a shadow of sorts flicker; he followed, only afterwards wishing he had remembered his quarterstaff. His path kept moving, kept pushing further and further into the darkness.. finally, the shadow seemed to tire of the game, letting him catch up. The figure in the darkness came into clarity as he drew nearer..."Valen?"

The sultry woman seemed to ebb and flow with the shadows around them, never quite solid and yet real enough to be perceived. She strode towards him, long robes that flowed upon the ground trailing behind her. "You remember me? I'm flattered."

"You make quite an impression." Greywulf said, standing to his feet, wrapping his cloak about him as he stood, shivering slightly, not just from the cold air. "But as I recall, I distinctly remember telling you and your mistress 'no' concerning her proposal."

"What makes you think I'm here to talk about the guild war?" Valen whispered slyly, beckoning Greywulf to come closer, looking at Greywulf with seductively inviting eyes. "What if I'm here for pleasure, not business? After all... your pleasure just might be my business."

Valen pulled Greywulf toward her and began kissing him, lightly at first, but the intensity of her passion increased as the two of them sat together. Greywulf's mind was hot and heady with the embrace... but he was no fool, not this time. As Valen's mouth trailed off from his and began kissing him on his cheek, his shoulder, slowly heading towards his neck, Greywulf's hand darted up, quick as a flash. He pried her hand off the back of his neck and shoved her away, Valen laughing as she righted her footing. "I'm glad you find this funny, Valen. I doubt you'll find it quite so humorous when you're dust." he said, smirking as he lit a ball of flame in one hand. "Let's clarify... you never come back. I don't send you back to Bodhi in little burning chunks of dust. Though it would be an improvement as far as looks go."

Valen flushed angrily at the last comment; she snarled in fury before vanishing, the cloud of wisp floating out into the darkness. Even if he wanted to follow, it would have been impossible. Whether free of a vampiric influence or now simply at peace with his victory, he walked back to camp with a peaceful mind, settling under his blankets with a contented smile.

Nothing more disturbed their rest for the remainder of the night, the first of their number rising with the eastern sunrise. There was no terrible hurry this particular morn, still awaiting Jaheira's return. Still, despite their leisurely pace, the druid did not make an appearance by the time they had packed up and made breakfast, so once more they found themselves on the move. Minsc gazed at the slowly drying plains that they traversed, watching as their road quickly turned rocky, culminating in a particularly large canyon pass that was the most direct route towards their destination. Only when he had awoken that morn had he realized his slip at guard. He was particularly eager to redeem himself of that little mistake and he was keeping a most careful eye out for any danger as they traveled. He abruptly halted as his gaze hit the side of the canyon they had just entered, the markings and indentations a bit too familiar. His oddities aside... Minsc was still a damn good ranger.

The others had noticed his halt; Minsc was already looking around, eyes narrowed as he slowly unsheathed the Sword of Chaos, alert for any enemies. Minsc closed his eyes, stepping out a bit further than the others... the sound of an arrow loosed from a bow twanged through the pass, Minsc hurriedly ducking back as an arrow struck where he had been standing. He grinned as he watched a horde of orcs and goblins swarm out of the holes and crevices of the canyon faces, using the little indentations as foot and handholds as they came. Strategy was all well and good, negotiation was a necessity, if not his favorite activity, even diplomacy had... a few, uses. But these were the moments he loved... Minsc let out a roar of happiness and rage as he swung into the first approaching orc.

Another volley of arrows rained down on their rapidly embattled group, a dozen or so orcs remaining in the cliffs to rain death from above. A quick incantation from Greywulf was enough to send the missiles flying, scattered by his deflection shield. Keldorn joined Minsc in striking down the closest melee fighters, even as Yoshimo and Aerie picked off the archers with arrow and spell. He turned his attention to the orcs on the ground, much more numerous, spitting Fireballs into the crowds of orcs that came.

Still, one orc pushed on through the blinding power and rushed Aerie, forcing her to drop her spell craft and parry with her staff, bringing it back in a reverse thrust to strike the orc in the stomach. It doubled over, never recovering before Minsc spun and struck it down in one movement. Greywulf tried to push on towards the rest of the beasts, but as he moved a few more orcs engaged him, driving him backwards from his goal. Just as one orc had brought his arrow up to target Yoshimo, who was struggling furiously with a particularly large orc, a throwing spear flew down the canyon and thudded into the orc's chest, felling him. Looking to find the source of aid, Greywulf's face brightened to see Jaheira riding down the hill at a fast gallop upon the horse she had left with, her regular spear in one hand, a few more of the throwing variety strapped to the horse's side. She rode straight into the fray, easily knocking orcs over and aside, easy targets for the group on the ground, When all but the last few had been killed, the remaining orcs fled, escaping deeper into the darkness of the canyon walls, leaving them alone with their victory and returned comrade.

"So, you cannot go one day without my company before getting yourself in trouble." Jaheira tossed out breathlessly as she dismounted. "I had rather hoped you more mature than that."

"You know me," Greywulf shrugged. "Have to have my daily dose of orc slaying and all that or else my day just isn't complete."

Greywulf walked over and embraced Jaheira, "I assume whatever business you had to attend to is finished?"

Jaheira looked away nervously, quite unusual for her, he noted; she turned back, all business. "No… not exactly. I am glad to see you again and I did miss you while I was gone, but… but I have news for you. We must go to the Harper Hold in Athkatla. I have been asked to bring you, and we must go soon. They will allow us passage through the wards at the door, but I must be present and conscious."

Greywulf waited expectantly for her to continue, but she remained silent for a few seconds, obviously uncomfortable with what she was doing as her gaze turned elsewhere, anywhere but his face. He studied her worried expression for another few seconds, then took her by the shoulders and said, "If that is what you wish, then that is what we will do. I trust your judgment, Jaheira; you know you needn't ask me twice."

She turned back to face Greywulf's warm smile, then produced a small smile of her own, nodding silently.

Greywulf turned to the others and said, "All right crew, looks like we have a new plan. Back to Athkatla again; it seems we've been asked to see the Harpers there. Can't refuse a dinner invitation, it would be rude. But eh… let's see if we can't keep me alive this time, hmm?"

The others laughed a bit, relieving the tension of the battle. Greywulf walked beside Jaheira who led the horse, grinning.

"What?" she asked.

"Oh, nothing. It's just nice to greet someone who's not out for our blood, you know?"

Jaheira turned away from him as if stricken by his words. "Yes... yes of course. Come, let us get moving."

X X X X X X X

"I have returned, mistress." Valen said, bowing her head as she kneeled at Bodhi's feet, deep within their graveyard lair.

"What news?" Bodhi asked, staring icily at the kneeling vampire.

"Greywulf is indeed alive. I saw him with my own eyes." Valen hissed, slowly relaying the tale of seeing Greywulf. "I spied on their tent and saw them talking together. Just to make sure, after they had fallen asleep I snuck in and saw his body. He was definitely warm and breathing as well. After that I came back here as you commanded."

Bodhi nodded as she talked, reclining back on her stone throne, a few undead servants guarding her. Bodhi drummed her fingers on the cold stone for a moment longer, as though considering Valen's tale. Finally, Bodhi stepped over to Valen. "You may rise."

Valen stood to face her mistress, awaiting her orders. Bodhi stalked back and forth in front of her, then slamming out with a closed fist, sending the vampire sprawling across the room. She stalked over to her, snarling in disgust. "Do you take me for a fool?! I can smell him all over you, slave! Could it be that you attempted to seduce Greywulf, even after I gave you explicit orders not to make any sort of contact with him, not to let him know we still have any interest in him?!"

Valen tried to offer an excuse, but she was cut off by Bodhi, who kicked Valen across the room, fury in her eyes. "Twice now you have failed me, Valen. Should you fail me a third time... you will wish Greywulf had driven the stake through your heart. Await me in the torture chambers for your punishment."

Valen bowed once and hurried out, fear covering her face at the ire of her mistress. Meanwhile, Bodhi had inscribed a portal, the visage of Irenicus forming inside as she made contact. His brow knitted for a second with the spell's effect; he smirked and faced Bodhi. "Has your scout confirmed my hopes?"

"More or less." Bodhi sneered. "Greywulf is indeed alive; your plans can continue."

"Excellent. I would have been most disappointed if I could not reunite Imoen and Greywulf in the future. They have so much to discuss."

With that, Irenicus closed the portal, leaving Bodhi to her thoughts of how best to discipline Valen.


	33. Part 2: Disobedience

"So... you have come. I was told to expect your arrival, but I did not anticipate your arrival this soon. There was talk that your companion might resist such an order." A man standing outside the Harper Hold of Athkatla studied the six before them; oddly enough, the usually calm and stoic Jaheira was the one who seemed most unnerved during this hour.

"Greywulf has nothing to hide. We will not be long." Jaheira snapped, a hint of either frustration or anger leaking into her voice as the man shrugged and moved aside.

Keldorn leaned over to Greywulf as they strode past the outer guard, the man remaining outdoors at his post of watch. "Something is... amiss, Greywulf. We need to know what we're doing, _now_."

As much as he hadn't wanted to pressure her... Greywulf was beginning to agree. Going into unknown situations to meet strangers was nothing special, even walking into traps was somewhat routine for them... though it wasn't on their list of favorite things to do. But when Jaheira was spooked... it was probably time to worry. Not that she had been very calm since arriving back with the group; they had made good time in backtracking to Athkatla, only a two day march. The horse Jaheira had rode in with bolted almost as soon as they reached the gates, apparently knowing its home within the city. It seemed the closer they got to the business at hand, the more agitated Jaheira was.

"Hey." Jaheira nearly jumped at the touch of his hand on her shoulder, only calming slightly as she saw his familiar face, frowning though it was. "Jaheira... what's going on here? You know I trust you; whatever it is, its fine... but we need to know what we're doing here."

She did not answer for a few moments; finally a sigh escaped her, the woman visibly trying to steady herself. "Yes... yes, of course. Undoubtedly, I should have told you before this... but there will be some questions directed toward you; I would ask you to merely answer them as honestly as possible and I am sure everything will be fine."

Greywulf nodded, not bothering to ask the obvious follow-up: _And these questions are about my heritage and how the Harpers feel they should treat me, right? _

No, he simply nodded, and as they reached the middle of the grandiose hall, it was a noticeably different situation than that which they had been in the last time they were here. Rather than a quiet bustle of activity, there was a silence that permeated the whole room; a pin could have echoed through such a void. There was a group of seven who awaited them in the center of the main hall; one heavily armored man stood in the middle, flanked by three on either side.

"Perhaps we might have been a bit hasty in accepting the Harpers' hospitality." Yoshimo whispered to nobody in particular.

As much as he hated to admit it, Greywulf was worried as well. The posture of the men and women awaiting their arrival was not exactly hostile... but friendly would not be the word he'd use either. The big armored one in the center looked well versed in combat, and his face... he had a smile that didn't evoke thoughts of friendliness or comfort, more of a predator finally gazing at its prey.

Wizards on one side and another with a clerical look; two more with ranger garb, bows and swords at their sides; another warrior as well, although slightly less armored than the middle man. Greywulf tightened the grip on his staff; too much weaponry to bluff or intimidate their way out of it. If these folks were set against them, somebody was going to die, that much was certain. Ensuring which side took on those deaths... that would be a little harder.

Jaheira didn't seem too surprised at the show of force; but that all changed when she saw the man in the middle, his face instantly familiar. "Jaheira..." his tone held a not-so-concealed measure of condescension as he spoke. "So good to see you again."

"Galvarey? What are you still doing here? You told me that the Herald would be awaiting us for the inquiries-"

"Which will still take place, without the Herald here. He was never a part of this; it was I who summoned you and your companion here." Galvarey cut her off. "You have brought this Greywulf, and that is all that matters."

"You do not have the station to perform such an act! Only the Herald can-" Jaheira's objection was cut off again by Galvarey, who was apparently tired of her outbursts.

"Enough, Jaheira! Know your place." he glared harshly for a moment before returning to his former calm. "This area lacks a Herald currently; I seek to establish one by doing what will serve the balance best. You know as well as I do that it is the end result that matters, not the means. You still serve the greater balance, do you not? Surely you know what is right."

"I know you are an ambitious fool," Jaheira did not back down, her eyes still blazing with suspicion. "You cannot be sanctioned to do this; does the Council know of your deeds here? Forging the call of a Herald, setting up such a gaudy base as this? The position of Herald requires-"

"Herald requires the will to establish the position." he raised his voice enough to drown her out, his voice echoing through the hall. "The High Heralds will judge if it is deserved. Really, Jaheira, this is a matter aside. You know this. You have done your duty and now I do mine."

Jaheira opened her mouth as if to continue her argument, but clamped down in defiance, looking apologetically at Greywulf. "Now that we've got that settled, I suppose we should get started." Galvarey shot a toothy grin at Greywulf. "Tell me... Greywulf, is it? Do you know why you are here?"

Greywulf looked squarely at Galvarey; his irritation at the man's attitude toward one of his most beloved companions was not exactly endearing, but he did his best to remain calm and rational. "I assume it has something to do with my heritage, correct?"

Galvarey smiled and nodded, "It seems you are much more clever than I had thought. Or perhaps you merely have a guilty conscience; we will find out. Nonetheless, I have called you here to determine the danger you present as a Bhaalspawn in this world. Your very presence disrupts nature's balance, and I am here to determine what action must be taken. "

"If any." Jaheira interrupted, uncomfortable with the conversation.

"Yes, yes." Galvarey snorted. "If necessary, I will question those who travel with you and gauge their responses to their time spent with you as well. Now, I will ask you a few questions; nothing too intrusive, I assure you. Just answer naturally."

Greywulf spared one last look at the druid beside him; he nodded and shrugged, "Go ahead, I have nothing to hide."

Galvarey smiled and said, "So, tell me of your earliest memories. What do you remember of your childhood, your far past? Are they happy memories?"

Greywulf flinched once at such a prospect, but closed his eyes and did his best to remember what he could, then responded. "Not exactly... my childhood at Candlekeep was mostly sequestered, with only Imoen as company. Gorion was a good father... but I never was completely satisfied, I don't think."

"Indeed? I suppose that was to be expected." Galvarey nodded. "Gorion, the idealist. I was one of those who thought it a mistake... but that is unimportant. When did you start this path of 'adventuring' as you types so often put it?"

"After Sarevok and his assassins came after me in Candlekeep." Greywulf said with an exhale of breath. "Gorion... he was killed by Sarevok on the road from the fortress. I had no choice but to fend for myself afterwards... I didn't choose the path willingly, if that's what you're getting at."

"A bit defensive, are we?" Galvarey smirked. "But please, explain. Why would this Sarevok be after you, specifically?"

"Galvarey, you know exactly why!" Jaheira interrupted. "The account was fully detailed in my-"

"Hush, Jaheira... I was speaking with the boy, was I not?" Galvarey retorted.

"But it's impolite to cut a lady off." Greywulf said with a forced smile. "Try to be more polite to her; she is my companion after all."

Galvarey snorted, then flashed an unkind smile. "But of course. Now, the question, if you please."

"Sarevok was after me because he was a Child of Bhaal as well."

"Which means what?" he prodded.

"Which means he didn't want any Bhaalspawn left to try and claim the power of our father but himself." Greywulf finished, frowning. "What do you mean-"

"I mean that your half-brother apparently considered you a threat for the power of Bhaal... enough of one to try and deal with you as soon as possible. Perhaps something to take into consideration?"

"But- that's ridiculous!"

Almost everyone was surprised to hear the outburst form the reddening Avariel elf behind Greywulf. Aerie continued, "That... that doesn't make any sense; he was out to kill all the Bhaalspawn, Greywulf wasn't a bigger threat than any others-"

"Oh really?" Galvarey sneered. "Then why did he attack Greywulf first? Why not some other Bhaalspawn? No... Sarevok saw Greywulf as the largest threat; enough so that he died trying to kill you, didn't he?"

"When forced into battle, yes." Greywulf's expression hardened. "I'm not sure I like the way you're manipulating the facts here, Galvarey."

Galvarey rolled his eyes; with an unpleasant smile, he continued, "All right. Let's move out of the past and into the present, if you have such qualms about discussing the _facts_. Tell me... as a Child of Bhaal, do you have any violent thoughts?"

Unable to completely hide his growing disdain for the man before him, Greywulf rolled his eyes and said with mock enthusiasm, "Oh yes! In fact, I'm having several good ones right now! You'd laugh if you could see them… well, maybe you wouldn't laugh."

"_Please_ Greywulf, try to cooperate!" Jaheira insisted in exasperation.

"Defiance and hostility." Galvarey shrugged. "To be expected from one such as him, really. So… the Bhaalspawn finds violence both unavoidable and pleasurable."

Jaheira's jaw nearly dropped at Galvarey's statement; she finally regained her composure and said, "You're twisting his words! That is certainly not what he meant."

"Deception is woven into his very being, Jaheira. Can you comprehend the thoughts of an illithid? Or a beholder? Your Greywulf is akin to these."

"Only in your mind! This is a farce!" Jaheira spat.

She was once again cut off by Galvarey, who shot a glare at her and growled, "Jaheira! I begin to question your loyalty to our cause! Just one more question. What is your favorite color?"

"What the hell does that have to do anything?" Jaheira sputtered, furious.

"Quiet, all will be made clear." Galvarey said, waiting for Greywulf's answer.

Greywulf's mind echoed Jaheira's incredulousness, but he kept it inside, and tried his best to calm himself. When his hands were finally able to unclench, he gave the matter thought, finally shrugging and saying, "Green has always been a favorite of mine."

Without warning, Galvarey shrieked as he pointed, "Green! The color of jealousy, or a gangrenous wound, poison and sickness in a body!"

Jaheira lost any cool she had managed to reclaim and exploded in response, "And the color of the grass, or of the leaves on a tree! You see what you want to see and nothing more!"

"I suppose it was unavoidable." Galvarey sighed, calming down abruptly. "I'm afraid measures must be taken."

"I think you should reconsider." Keldorn intoned gruffly, stepping forward as Galvarey eyed him warily. "Perhaps the accounts of his companions should be taken... surely my position as a paladin of the Radiant Heart has some weight here."

"And the devil masks himself with the light, does he not?" Galvarey smirked. "It would only be expected for the creature to ally himself with those of a light about them, hoping to mask his own darkness. And you... despite whatever position you claim to hold... by very association with the Bhaalspawn your testimony is tainted. His powers are greater than any of us might suspect."

"Greywulf is not who you say he is!" Minsc declared. "Boo is certain; Minsc would not follow evil. Minsc beats evil with a stick! And sword!"

"This is who you travel with?" Galvarey laughed. "Such madness does not help your case, Greywulf. Consider this inquiry finished."

"This is a sham!" Jaheira accused. "You are blinded by your preconceptions and cannot see the truth!"

"Are you sure it is not you who are blinded?" Galvarey tossed back. "You know what chaos follows this man better than I, for you have seen it first hand."

"He has been the cure, not the problem! You judge wrongfully as a fool!" Jaheira protested.

Before she or Galvarey could say more, Greywulf interjected, "Excuse me? Still in the room here. What exactly have you decided now?"

"It is obvious that you are too dangerous to the balance to allow you freedom to roam free on this earth. You will therefore be imprisoned, kept safe for the stability of the balance."

"Really? Where will this be? Somewhere with a view, I hope?" Greywulf asked, wondering if this might be a way to get to the place Imoen was imprisoned on.

His hopes of such were dashed when Galvarey said, "I am glad you have not lost your sense of humor in such dire circumstances. No, I meant the spell Imprisonment. You will be alive still, just kept where nobody can be harmed by you ever again."

Galvarey might have been expecting a number of reactions from Greywulf at his statement: fear, anger, disbelief; he probably wasn't expecting laughter. After Greywulf's initial burst of mirth was over, Galvarey raised one eyebrow. "Do you find something amusing here? I assure you I am quite serious."

"Oh, I bet you are. See, when you first started asking me dumb questions, I thought you were just a good little soldier following your orders. After the color bit, I thought you were what just another ambitious fool trying to capitalize off my heritage. Now? I can see that you're just an idiot." the sorcerer laughed again. "Do you really expect me to stand here for as long as it'll take you to cast that spell?"

Galvarey coughed angrily, trying to regain control of the situation. "Come now. It is the most humane option. The only other alternative is death, and your chances are quite poor. There are eight Harpers here against you and your four followers, and I sincerely doubt you can survive those odds."

"No, there are only seven, Galvarey, you and your lackeys." Jaheira said through gritted teeth, raising her spear in anger. "This is not justice, and I will not be a party to such madness. The Harper Council would not have ordained this, and you will not have my support in this matter."

Jaheira turned briefly to Greywulf, her eyes downcast in sorrow and trembling rage. "I am sorry, Greywulf. This was not supposed to be…. never. I would stand beside you though, if you will have me."

Greywulf nodded and said, "I would welcome your presence with us. Now Galvarey, assuming you can count on both hands at once, the odds look a little more even. Care to surrender now?"

Galvarey snarled, "You have made a grave mistake, Jaheira. You will pay with your life!"

They attacked immediately, driving forth as Greywulf and his companions countered them, bringing the fight to a full tear. Greywulf faced off against the two wizards who opposed him, one of them bombarding Greywulf with destructive magics while the other cast spells of protection on them both. Greywulf tried to defend himself and counter at the same time, but he failed in both ventures, his power being split two ways. He was forced to dodge aside from a javelin of ice thrust at him, and his counter of magic missiles was easily deflected by the power of the protective mage.

As he continued his struggle, Aerie had taken on the opposing cleric and her staff was barely keeping the war hammer of the other cleric at bay. She let the cleric move in close and take a grand swing, but her dodge was timed perfectly, the large weapon swinging past her and carrying the wielder along in the swing. Her staff leaped forward and caught the cleric between the chest piece and arm guard, popping the joint and catching the cleric by surprise. Without the use of one arm, he backpedaled as Aerie moved closer, sensing victory. But Aerie fell victim to her own overconfidence as well; the cleric's hand abruptly flashed upward, a blast of heavenly power sending her flying.

Keldorn had taken on the other warrior in the group, and though Keldorn was clearly the superior in experience, the other was much younger and drew on pure energy and a strong swordsmanship. The two of them battled back and forth between the other fighters, and though their blades met continually, glancing off each other's armor, neither of them could get a clean blow, strong enough to cut into the other's shell. Minsc and Yoshimo were dueling the rangers of the group, Minsc's pure ferocity keeping one ranger on the ropes while Yoshimo's acrobatic talent was enough to dodge the continual stream of arrows being fired at him from the other ranger's magical bow. Finally, Jaheira herself had engaged Galvarey, the anger built up in her taking the Harper leader off guard.

"You always did let your emotions control your actions." he breathed heavily as he attempted to fend off her fierce assault. "If you had seen reason, you could have joined us! I would have been made Herald with the trophy your companion represents!"

"A trophy? Is that all this was about? You would kill innocents to advance yourself?" Jaheira hissed, lunging forward with her spear, forcing Galvarey back further.

"You could never see the big picture." Galvarey snarled back, before pushing a spear thrust aside with his sword. "And for your lack of vision, you will die."

Galvarey rushed forward inside her spear range and batted her spear arm aside with a massive shoulder blow. With her weapon nowhere near parrying distance, he brought his sword down with full force, a blow intended to cleave Jaheira's head in two. Just before the blade landed, an arrow shot from Yoshimo's bow knocked Galvarey's sword with enough speed to knock the blade off course, cutting a few locks of hair from her head rather than ending her life completely. Jaheira took full advantage of her stay of execution, and whipped her spear back in reverse, sending the shaft of the weapon into Galvarey's face with full speed. He stumbled back as the wood connected with his nose, regaining his footing as he glared at Jaheira with unbridled fury, his nose gushing blood. She gave him a withering look, than charged him again, bringing their battle back into full fury.

Yoshimo had taken just enough time to save Jaheira, and was not given more than that as he continued to dodge the arrows shot at him by the ranger who had positioned himself upon the staircase heading upstairs. As he ran, Yoshimo leapt and rolled behind a small cabinet, giving him a brief reprieve from his work. While he plotted his next move, Greywulf had found himself completely unable to penetrate the shields of the mages he faced. Every counter spell he cast was deflected, and he was growing weaker with each near miss of their spells. Finally, he was thrown against a wall beside a toppled stool, courtesy of a magical blast of physical energy. As the attacking mage moved in for the kill, Greywulf's eyes darted over to the stool beside him, only a hand's length away.

He darted out and grabbed the stool, and threw it with all his might, not at the wizard moving in to destroy him, but at the one providing the magical shielding. The wizard was completely taken by surprise, as the shielding he was conjuring was focused completely upon magic, not physical items. The chair knocked him to the ground, disrupting his spell casting, leaving the other wizard exposed as well. The newly vulnerable mage's eyes opened wide as he realized his own defense was down, but before he could cast protections of his own, a prolonged lightning bolt surged through his system, reducing him to dust and ashes. Greywulf lowered his hand, then climbed to his feet and swung his quarterstaff into attack position as he charged the second of the two wizards. His leap brought him above the rising wizard and the downswing of his staff smashed into his opponent, killing him without hesitation.

As Greywulf finished off his opponents, Keldorn and the warrior he fought were still doing their best to gain the upper hand, but to no avail. The even match they were for each other had kept them at a status quo for the entire battle. The warrior brought his sword down in a low swing at Keldorn's legs, but Keldorn managed to bring his blade down just in time to parry the blow, and bring his sword back up to attacking position in one swing. His opposition attempted the same maneuver, but his reaction time was a tad slow, giving Keldorn just enough time to lunge forward with his sword, catching the man across the shoulder of his sword arm. He dropped his sword with the impact, and was in no position to defend as Keldorn's second attack came sweeping across his chest, cutting into his armor and flesh.

Aerie had taken her share of scrapes in the battle she was fighting with the Harper cleric, but a surge of holy strength she had conjured was currently giving her an edge, sending the cleric she faced tumbling with each glancing hit. The magical war hammer she had also conjured was enough to counter her opponent's weapon as well, and she was slowly wearing down his defenses. As he attempted to dodge another of her mighty blows, she brought the hammer down, cutting away from her horizontal swing. The result was a solid impact upon his neck with the massive weapon. He dropped to the ground, his arms and legs flopping out as he did, a sure sign of a broken neck. He made one more slight twitch, and then his body went limp, the fight over. Aerie took a deep breath, then charged forward to aid Minsc with his opponent.

Despite Minsc's best efforts the ranger he fought was just lithe enough to duck under or leap aside from each axe swing he made, all the while making small thrusts at Minsc, attempting to find a chink in his armor. As he dodged another swing from Stonefire, he brought his own sword around in attempt to hit Minsc across the side. The blow connected, but not quite as solidly as he would have liked, and Minsc's massive arm came down, pinning the blade between his broad torso and his arm. The ranger gave a tug on the blade, but quickly realized the futility of overpowering the ranger's strength, and instead swung at Minsc's face with as much force as he could behind his arm. Minsc's chin snapped up with the fury of the blow, but the only lasting effect was a surge of pain in the man's hand, and a burning fury in the large warrior's eyes as his head came back down to look at the ranger before him.

"You should not have done that." Minsc grunted, as he dropped the axe he held with his free hand, and brought that massive fist around in a swing that sent the man flying across the room, his head twisted so forcefully with the blow that it snapped his neck. He picked up Frostreaver and with a quick rub of his chin, he turned around and bellowed a war cry, ready to reenter the fight. The ranger that Yoshimo had been fighting was now taken up with three opponents climbing the staircase after him, and could no longer keep Yoshimo at bay. He eventually turned completely and flew up the stairs, attempting to flee to the upper floor. Just as he was about to open the door, an arrow stuck into the hood of his cloak, pinning him to the wall. As he attempted to pull himself free, he froze in terror, looking down at Yoshimo, who with a grin waved hello just before launching another arrow, this one directly into the man's chest.

"Your allies are dead, Galvarey." Jaheira uttered grimly as the two of them continued their grudge match, knocking him a few yards away with another whack from her spear shaft. "You have been exposed for the power hungry slime you are, and have no chance of escape. Surrender and I'm sure the Harper Council will kill you much quicker than I intend to."

Galvarey did not reply, but merely roared and charged forward with sword upraised, an attack borne of desperation. Jaheira silently rushed as well, and with blinding speed, it was suddenly over. Jaheira and Galvarey stood almost twenty paces away, their backs to each other. Jaheira stood with arms at her side, silent and weaponless, breathing heavily. Galvarey was gasping for breath as he dropped his sword, Jaheira's spear thrust clean through his midsection, still impaled in him. He fell to the ground, his bloodied armor clattering with the impact. Looking around, Jaheira saw all the others walking towards her, some with cuts and bruises, but everyone alive and in safe condition. She sighed and walked over to remove her spear from Galvarey, yanking it out with the sickening noise of flesh ripping.

"Greywulf… Forgive me." Jaheira whispered as the half-elf walked over to her. "I did not know… I knew their purpose, but it was not supposed to be this way. They were supposed to see you as…as I see you. Not in this distorted manner. This was not supposed to be. It was not..."

Greywulf lifted her downcast head with one hand, then smiled a weary yet comforting smile. "I understand, Jaheira. I'm sorry for what has happened as well, but what is done is done. Let us be going, I'm sure the Harpers will understand when you tell them what has happened."

"Ha…Ha ha ha." Galvarey's voice floated up, gurgling with blood as he coughed through his laughter, using all his remaining strength to look up at the six companions standing in front of him. "Do you think…do you think the Harper Council will believe you? There are seven dead Harpers here, and you _*cough*_ and your friends are the murderers. Will the council take the side of a Bhaalspawn? You have signed your own death warrants. Know that I laugh at you as I die…"

Galvarey's words trailed off as he finally expired, his wounds overcoming him. Jaheira turned to the body with anger, slowly cooling down to a look of fear. "Galvarey's dead, Jaheira. His lies are gone with him." Keldorn said, attempting to comfort the woman.

"No. He speaks the truth this time. We had best be on guard from now on. Until I have a chance to go to the council and plead our case, we will look like Harper killers, and the only punishment for that is death." Jaheira murmured, looking over the scene, resigned to their fate.

Aerie gasped, and exclaimed, "But we were right, though! We were defending ourselves, and Greywulf! They can't-"

"They can… and they will." Jaheira intoned, her expression grim. "There is no way for them to know the truth, and they will not rest until 'justice' is served. I will do what I can, make as many connections as possible to sort this out, but we may have just made a very powerful enemy."

Jaheira's face was emotionless as they left but her insides were torn up with both grief and fear, the grief of facing her own kin, the fear of what might she might have to do before the situation would truly end.


	34. Part 2: Letherel

The posture of the six as they trudged along was not an energetic or enthused manner; it was more the type seen so commonly on the downtrodden, miserable sorts stuck in terrible weather, miserable conditions, and powerless against the horrible situations their lives had pushed them into. It was actually a fairly common sight in the slums of Athkatla. These six, however, were not in the Slums. They weren't even in Athkatla. They weren't particularly downtrodden or oppressed; they had just recently survived one of the numerous attempts on their lives that came along every day. Their surroundings weren't nasty or terrible; the sun was shining and the terrain was even and light walking for their feet. A small bit of cloud cover along with a hint of a breeze kept the sun from becoming too warm; it was one of those perfect days, in fact. For all intents and purposes, this should have been a pleasant little journey for the six of them... but it wasn't. Nothing was bothering them physically, really; maybe a pebble or two lodged in the boot at most. It was a cloud of depression that lingered over their spirits, one member in particular.

Greywulf glanced over his shoulder at the one embroiled in this conflict the most. Jaheira's eyes were fixed on the ground before her, her face still emotionless. Damn, this was frustrating. All the things she had endured; Khalid's death, the events of the past few weeks with Irenicus, all of it had been especially hard on the druid. Still, between Minsc and himself they had been able to push through most of her grief, bringing her back to some semblance of normality in her life. Oh, she was still more troubled and darker in mood than she had been since Khalid's death, but it had been better. Now... this business with the Harpers was pushing her back down all over again. With someone else he would have tried a joke or some sort of cheery greeting or conversation to lighten the mood... but he knew her too well by now. As much as he hated feeling powerless, this wasn't something that could be fixed right away or with any semblance of ease. Her guilt and fear weren't a tangible enemy he could strike with spell or staff; it was a fleeting thing that, despite the woman's powerful strength and her almost indomitable will, could overwhelm her at times. It was her battle; but damn it if Greywulf wasn't going to try and fight it with her.

Minsc grunted slightly as he adjusted the weight of the pack he carried. Not that it was heavy, for him, weight was rarely a concern. His broad shoulders could carry almost any burden... but he did not think the same was true of Jaheira. Admittedly, Minsc did not understand the way Jaheira looked at things. Maybe that made him naive or simple-minded; Minsc didn't care. Jaheira was wiser than he, but she still could not understand what to the ranger seemed a basic fact of life; or at least, their lives. Things were black and white; maybe not to others, but to him they were. First rule? Protect good things. Good families. Good children. Good people who fought for good things. Good animals... as long as they were friendly to hamsters. Easy to remember and easy to do. The same with the second rule; stop the evil things. Evil warriors. Evil wizards. Evil in general. 'How?,' most people tended to ask when he tried to explain his philosophy. Minsc usually shrugged at the question. 'With a sword.' Or a club. Or flail, mace, staff... whatever worked best. And therefore, their last battle was once again simple. The Harpers and this man Galvarey, they sought to kill Greywulf. Minsc's job? Protect good people. Greywulf was a good man. And just like that... Minsc knew what his job was. Jaheira, she didn't see it this way. The Harpers were good, before; they were Jaheira's family, if the term could be used. But people change. The Harpers changed. Therefore... buttkicking. Minsc sighed once more as he looked over at Jaheira. He wished Dynaheir was here; she could have helped cheer Jaheira up. But she wasn't, and Minsc knew she would not understand his point of view. So he kept walking, listening to the squeaks of his furry companion. Perhaps... perhaps Jaheira needed a hamster to talk to; it could only help.

Aerie squirmed just a bit as she pushed onward, keeping steady in her place in their line of travel. Her usual spot at the end with Yoshimo in case of a surprise attack from the front was currently occupied by Jaheira. The druid had been unwilling to speak to anyone since they had left the Harper Hold; not Minsc, Greywulf, anyone. Aerie didn't pretend to understand everything that had just happened a few hours ago; she hadn't even heard of the Harpers until Greywulf had mentioned the organization when telling of his previous travels. They sounded like a 'good' organization for the most part... but it was obvious, to her at least, that they had done what was right when confronted. Greywulf, no matter his heritage, was a fine man... in her eyes, at least. But Jaheira was brooding over their deeds like they had been in the wrong, somehow. She had been close to them, they were her fellows in the Harpers, sure... but Aerie still couldn't manage to feel the pity Jaheira was apparently feeling over their deeds. Perhaps if the Harpers had even had some sort of basis on which to place their accusations, but there was nothing worthwhile in Galvarey's points. Aerie sighed again, squirming again as she felt another tinge of pain in her foot. She frowned; shaking her sandal a bit... a pebble flew out. She sighed; she considered asking Jaheira if she wanted to talk, but decided against it. Their track record of friendly discussions still sat at a big fat zero... now didn't seem like a particularly good time to try again. Still, Greywulf was always willing to talk; she struggled to catch up to the sorcerer, a few yards ahead of her.

One of the clouds that had been doing a fine job in obscuring a certain area of sunlight was suddenly moved by the wind currents above; luckily, the blast of sunlight was just a bit in front of him, keeping the annoying glare out of his eyes. Unfortunately, it just happened to land on Keldorn, whose armor was just clean enough to gleam... therefore shooting a glare into Yoshimo's eyes anyway. The thief raised one hand as he rolled his eyes, shaking his head wryly. One of the main reasons he hated working in the daylight; it was hard enough to pick a lock undetected in optimum conditions, but throw in a glare from the sun? He chuckled again as they continued onward. Privately, he wondered what must be going through Jaheira's head right now. Pitted against her fellow Harpers, put into a position where she was forced to choose between loyalty to her comrades or to her heart. A few weeks ago he would have felt no remorse or grief for the druid; he would have probably found it quite fitting, really. Now, though... he sympathized greatly; the struggle must have been great for her. It must have taken great strength of character and will to do what she did... a strength he envied so much. If only he had such strength, for only a few seconds... things would be much different. A throb of pain echoed through his mind as he contemplated his current companions and their situation. He had been feeling pain constantly, ever since that night in the Copper Coronet a few days ago... he shook the memory from his head, and clenched his eyes shut, trying to hold back the tears that threatened to well up in them. He couldn't let the others see him like this. A deep breath escaped him; finally, his head popped up again; the roguish grin he had perfected years ago was once more fixed perfectly on his face as he nonchalantly brushed aside his hair... and tried to ignore the pain.

Strength... checked by guidance. Boldness... checked by discernment. Safety... but willing to sacrifice if so required. Keldorn's eyes flickered open as he finished his quick prayer to Torm, letting his eyes adjust to the light once again. More and more, Keldorn found himself in prayer for both himself and those he traveled alongside. For himself? Energy, so that he might not fail his companions in the midst of battle. For Greywulf? Strength of will, a pure heart that might shine through with enough power to defeat the taint he carried within. For Aerie? Courage, a boldness to face her fears and live this new life she had chosen to the fullest. For Yoshimo? A changed heart, that he might be swayed to follow a stronger path of righteousness. For Minsc? That his unwavering faith and devotion to the cause of right would be an example to the rest of the party. For Jaheira? Wisdom and Strength; wisdom to know she was guilty of no sin except that of following her heart... and strength to stand up for her beliefs in the testing that was sure to come. And of course there were his general prayers for them all; safe journeys, good health, a day of blessings. Keldorn had prayed an extra blessing for the druid this day... she would need it. He shook his head as they kept moving; in younger days he might have tried to cheer her himself with some wisdom or knowledge he had picked up in his time as a paladin. Now, he knew it was best to leave it in the hands of the druid herself and the god she served. The older he got, the more he found himself depending on the gods for his strength and wisdom. Perhaps... perhaps that was how it was intended. Keldorn smiled ever so slightly as the thought flickered through his mind; yes, perhaps it was meant to be that way.

Greywulf, Minsc, Aerie, Yoshimo, Keldorn... all five of them had spared glances at her in the last five minutes, all undoubtedly wondering in their own fashions and ways how best they could comfort or aid her. Jaheira's face did not change as she continued onward, still in silence. They didn't understand, couldn't really. Gorion was gone, Khalid was gone... and now, possibly the Harpers. Everything she had thought defined her life... taken. Not that she regretted killing Galvarey; he had been a fool, all the more obvious by his words and 'questions' to Greywulf. It was how it would affect her life as a Harper that scared her; she had taken the time to pass a message through Bernard at the Coronet to the Council, but what good it would do? The sound of Greywulf calling for a quick rest period before they continued on to the Windspear Hills barely registered, Jaheira set her pack down mechanically, still engrossed in her own thoughts. Spilt Harper blood demanded retribution; by all rights, she should be the one delivering it. Instead, she found herself seeking comfort in the company of the one surrounded by it all yet untouched: the Bhaalspawn. Whatever wisdom she had thought she possessed was no help here; it made no sense at all, and yet she could find no fault in her own actions... but somehow she could not help but feel there was. Something had gone wrong along the way, and until she figured out what it was, she would not find the peace she so desperately needed.

X X X X X X X

"How are you feeling?" Aerie asked, approaching Greywulf as they rested, waiting a while longer before continuing onward. The Windspear Hills were well within reach today; another quarter-hour wouldn't hurt.

"Well Aerie, I suppose things could be worse. Of course things could be better too, but then again, isn't that always the case?" Greywulf offered wryly, sitting upon the grassy hilltop and staring at the horizon as the sun continued its path in the sky, shrinking the shadows over the hill and range before them.

"Such an evasive answer." Aerie commented. "Are you still thinking about what happened back in Athkatla?"

Greywulf nodded. "I want to believe that the Harpers will see the truth... but from Jaheira's description, they won't stop until the 'murderers' are brought to justice. Hmm... in retrospect, this isn't the first time we've all been framed for murder. I rather doubt Jaheira would see the irony right now, though."

"I think Jaheira worries too much." Aerie shrugged hesitantly. "You don't worry so often, or let things like this take over... have you talked with her about this?"

"I don't know if it would help, Aerie." Greywulf mused. "On the one hand, I see Jaheira's problems, her fallibility. She puts herself in an impossible situation, attempting to save everyone from the pain she's felt, what she's suffered. It's her desire to spare others loss that drives her to this kind of point. Her heart is in the right place, but… I don't know. The only other time I recall seeing her this serious, this emotionally detached is right after Khalid died. She was still dealing with the brunt of that when you joined us. You remember."

"Yes, but I haven't seen that much of a change, to tell the truth." Aerie admitted, sitting down next to Greywulf. "No offense, but she really hasn't done that much to make me feel welcome, or treat anyone with respect, save you."

"She's a hard person to deal with, true. She doesn't give her trust easily... but once you've earned her respect, make no mistake; she's loyal to a fault. I trust her above all others."

"Even with what has just happened?" Aerie asked. "It is her kin that will be hunting us, Harpers like herself. Can... can we trust her not to betray us?"

"If there was a time for betrayal, it was back at the Harper Hold." Greywulf said with a frown. "I will not see this group split by distrust, Aerie."

"I'm sorry; I didn't mean to suggest anything about her loyalty." Aerie sighed. "It's just… well, she's never really cared for me, and I was afraid your view of me would be influenced by what she…"

"What she says about you?" Greywulf finished.

"Yes." Aerie confessed. "I just wish we could talk more, like you and she do. It makes me think that you two have some sort of relationship, or something going on, I don't know."

Aerie immediately realized she had said more than she had intended to, and turned to Greywulf, reddening in the face. "W-what I meant was… not that I was suggesting that-"

"I know what you meant." Greywulf said, stifling an urge to chuckle. "And no, Jaheira and I are not romantically involved, if you were wondering. Not that it's what you were getting at of course. "

"O-Oh. That…t-that's good to know." Aerie stammered, still embarrassed at her slip of the tongue.

After a few moments of silence, Greywulf turned to Aerie, "So, what do you think… maybe the two of us, next time we get some free time in Athkatla we could go and do something fun?"

"Really?" Aerie's eyes brightened. "I mean…if you really want to."

"Of course." Greywulf said, looking up at the blue sky, grinning. "I hear the circus is nice this time of year."

"The circus? Well... I guess I could show you around, but I've lived there almost my whole life, I was think-" Aerie's voice trailed off into as she finally recognized the mischievous glint in his eyes; she glared at him and pushed him as he broke out laughing, "That wasn't funny."

"I thought it was. I'm sorry we haven't had the time to chat you want, and I do hope to make up for that."

"I…I'd like that." Aerie said with a smile, before getting up and saying, "We'd probably better get going. The others are already waiting for you."

Greywulf nodded as she walked off to her customary point in the line of travel, a slight spring to her step that wasn't there before. He smiled at the elf's brightened mood, and then pushed himself to his feet. _I hope I'm doing the right thing. Aerie's a nice girl... and admittedly, there is some attraction between us. Still, she's only just gotten out of seclusion from a circus for her whole life. She wants to experience everything and by encouraging these feelings, even if I have them as well... I could be setting her up for something she's not ready for. And I thought adventuring was complicated._

Yoshimo interrupted his musing, "Are we ready to travel? I believe the Windspear Hills await."

"Of course. Let's be off." Greywulf nodded and set out, quarterstaff in hand as they continued their inland trek, the Windspear Hills looming in the distance as if inviting their arrival, for good or ill unknown.

They passed through the canyon that had brought an ambush in their previous visit; they entered without incident this time and crossed the border of the territory a few hours before nightfall. The pass opened into a forest, so they moved through the wood as quickly as possible, hoping to find the Windspear castle and their employer for a night's rest. As they traveled, their eyes slowly adjusting to the dimming light, Greywulf dropped back his pace enough to keep step with Keldorn, who was looking around periodically, his armored hand at his sword hilt at all times. "What's wrong, Keldorn?" Greywulf whispered. "Do you sense something?"

"I cannot say." Keldorn said, continuing his scan of the area as they walked. "Perhaps it is merely my personal suspicions of this Firkraag, I don't know. But I sense something… something deeper. A great malice, a fierce anger. There is much evil in these lands, that I can feel. But I would not expect such a strong aura from merely orcs and ogres."

Keldorn fell silent once again, so Greywulf nodded him on to take point, while he dropped back again to Jaheira, the half-elf's mood seemingly cheered up a bit by the abundance of nature around her in the wood. Her face was as light hearted as he had seen since the Harper Hold, taking in every green leaf, all the bounty of nature around her.

Greywulf did not wish to ruin the moment for her, and so remained silent, merely staying near enough to Jaheira so that his presence was clear, nothing more. She did not respond to him for a few seconds, and he began to consider she might enjoy herself more if he were at a distance. He started to move off a bit, but she abruptly turned her head to look directly at him. "You do not have to go... your presence does not disturb me."

He nodded and remained at her side, Jaheira querying, "What do you think of Amn so far? It is certainly not without its charms or its hardships lately."

Greywulf shrugged and continued the conversation... he could always tell when Jaheira was trying to take her or his mind off something, generally because she started some kind of small talk; an unusual occurrence for the serious woman. Still, he didn't really care about the topic, just that Jaheira's mind was cleared from its worries for a time. "There does not seem to be a healthy balance between the two."

"You are probably correct. It has always been so, but there are still things of merit here. Perhaps not in the cities, but the forests are a great treasure." Jaheira said, looking about, enjoying the sights a pair of squirrels darted through a tree's branches before her.

"I would agree, though a more relaxed tour through would help my outlook... you know, getting rid of the evil wizards and Shadow Thieves. A few less vampires would help too." Greywulf added, taking in the sights as well, even as they hurried.

Jaheira stopped for a second, and turned to Greywulf. She stared into his eyes for a second, and said with an earnestness that surprised him, "Then… then I will show you when we have the time. I will take you through the deepest lands, and you will see the beauty I know is there."

Jaheira blinked once as though coming out of a trance, and then turned away, her voice growing more worrisome and troubled again. "That is, if you have not tired of my company yet."

Greywulf frowned slightly, then continued walking with Jaheira, and said to her with a shake of the head, "Tire? I grow quite fond of your company, perhaps more so than before. I would miss it were it gone."

Jaheira turned her face just out of his vision, but Greywulf could tell that the small comment must have touched her deeply. "W…well. I would… I would miss your company too, Greywulf."

Her voice trembled only slightly as she talked, but it's usual strength and conviction returned as she surreptitiously wiped her face and turned back to him. She coughed once, and then said, "Well, we should catch up with the others and move on. Enough of this idle musing. Time is short."

"Indeed it is... and so will your lives be, should you take another step."

The strange voice caught them both off-guard; before Greywulf could raise his hands to make an incantation or Jaheira her spear to guard, three bows were raised from seemingly nowhere, all strung with arrows that were definitely too close to miss. The sound of bow strings being pulled back behind them was audible; undoubtedly Minsc and the others had found a similar ambush. Only now that the bows were visible did Greywulf see the wielders appear, a group of elven archers garbed in forest gear and cloaks were their opponents, two archers easily for each party member. One stepped forward as the rest of the group was herded back to Greywulf and Jaheira, this particular elf narrowing his eyes in suspicion as he surveyed them. Apparently he had been the one who spoke before; his tone was not harsh, but definitely not friendly. "You should count yourselves fortunate you were not shot on sight. We give you this fair warning; keep away from the grove of Letherel. Should we find you near the grove again, you will not see us before the arrows have pierced your bodies."

Letherel... the name of the dryad grove they had been told of resonated in Greywulf's mind as the elf finished speaking. "We know of the grove... we were seeking it for a noble purpose." he maintained. "Do you not respect elf-kind of the other realms?"

"The last ones who claimed to be of elf-kind that gained access to our home robbed us of three dryad sisters." the elf growled, a fairly frightening sound for a voice that was naturally so gentle and melodic. "You six may have some elf-blood in you, but it will gain you no leniency here."

He had just motioned for the elves to take them away, before Minsc spoke up. "We are no villains, we are heroes! A promise we made to three dryads, and here we are to deliver it!"

They froze for a moment... the lead elf unsheathed a long, curved blade. "If you are lying or are an ally with those who robbed us you will pay dearly." he warned. "What do you mean?"

"We encountered the three dryads you spoke of while we were in captivity to the same beast who took them." Greywulf confirmed. "They gave us these magical acorns and asked us to deliver them to your Queen when we escaped."

His sword stayed up for a few moments as he listened, obviously still unconvinced... but with a great deal of relief on the part of the adventurers, the weapons was sheathed again, and the bows surrounding were lowered. "Do not presume hospitality just yet, outsiders. The Dryad Queen will speak with you; she will determine your fate. Tread lightly, strangers... few will see the wonders you are about to behold."

They bowed, and followed the elf as he led them through winding forest paths, through areas they never thought could have been there. After almost an hour of traveling, they reached a large cliff face, wrapping around in what seemed to be a circular formation. The elf put out his hand, traced a few lines upon the cliffside, and then intoned a few word in Elvish.

With the incantation, a portion of the cliff before them began to glow with a light, revealing the outline of a door carved into the side of the rocks. Elvish runes and inscriptions adorned the border, and shone brightly in the dim forest light. The stone doors creaked open and the elven guard led them inside, finally stepping into the grove of Letherel. It was an idyllic scene, an unearthly glow surrounding the trees and rocks, overshadowed by the lone waterfall in the center of the grove. The water sparkled with the few beams of light penetrating the thick branches of foliage covering the place. Magic was clearly at work in the area, many dryad songs echoing faintly in the enormous area. As everyone took in the sights and beauty of the area, the elven warriors gestured for them to continue following, and so they did, traveling into a large structure, seemingly formed out of the trees themselves. The inside of the building was completely natural looking, tables and chairs formed out of the roots and tendrils protruding from the floor, yet moving at the slightest touch, sliding as the roots moved to the specified spot. They walked through the grand hall, passing large numbers of beautiful and gentle dryads, singing their soft tones in languages not heard for ages. Their radiant voices only served to enhance their beauty as they continued their melodies, joyful and unencumbered by the sorrows or troubles of the world around. "The songs…they're so beautiful." Aerie breathed in wonder as they continued their walk.

"Indeed, the dryads' magic is in their voices and so this place is full of such power; it protects this glade and sustains it as well." One of the elves said as they walked.

They passed through another portal, blocked at first by long strands of wood covering the entrance, but curling away and granting passage with the approach of the group. Before them stood a beautiful woman, her features on the surface somewhat elvish, but not quite. Her skin had a bluish tint to it, and her hair was emerald green, running down the length of her height, barely above the ground. Her eyes, a deep shade of green, were deep and piercing yet warm and comforting all at once. She wore a long silver robe, flowing like the waters in the stream that passed through the grove. Upon her head sat a simple wreath of leaves, signifying power yet a simple radiance came from it as well. She was at the top of a few steps leading to the dais she was on, and she descended to them gracefully, her robe trailing behind her.

"My lady, these travelers claim to be able to restore the captured dryads that were taken from us. I have brought them here for you to decide their fate." The elf captain said, bowing low as he did.

"I know of what they speak." The dryad Queen said, her voice soft and rich as she spoke. "Please, leave us, for I much wish to speak with these men and women."

The elven guard did as she asked and left her alone with the group. She smiled; faced with six strangers and having no obvious weapons or armor within reach, this woman showed no trouble or fear in her eyes. There was a great power within her, one which felt as though barely contained by the visage of beauty before them. "You encountered our dryad sisters, did you?"

"Yes, my lady." Greywulf answered. "A vile creature by the name of Irenicus captured us; as we were escaping, we encountered three dryads who told us of their plight. They gave us these acorns and told us that if we were to deliver them to you, they could be saved."

She reached out her hand, and took the acorns from Greywulf, felt them for a second, then smiled. She waved her hand over the small nuts, and then lightly tossed them into the air. As they flew up, they flashed brightly and came down, landing upon the wooden floor they stood upon. They changed on impact; no longer acorns but the dryads themselves, transported safely. Even as they formed, three beams of light shone around them, the power of their trees bound to them and restored to the grove by the Queen's magic.

"My Queen!" one of them said excitedly, rushing over to her mistress. The Queen beamed as the three sisters came to her, and she quietly dismissed them, whispering words of comfort as they left, leaving her alone with the party again.

"I am eternally grateful, weary travelers, for the service you have performed. You are most kind, to perform an act of kindness with no thought of reward or gain for yourselves."

"We are at your service, my lady." Keldorn said, bowing to one knee, the others doing the same.

"Courtesy as well. You show respect though I have not demanded such from you as a queen might. I fear you have been treated harshly on your arrival; for that I am sorry. The hospitality of our grove has diminished in such times; perhaps your deeds might do well in returning our trust towards strangers. Still, you are here now, and have proven yourself friends and allies. I welcome you to my home, the realm of Dianya, Queen of Letherel."

"We are most honored." Greywulf said. "I am Greywulf, and my companions are Jaheira, Minsc, Aerie, Keldorn, and Yoshimo."

"You are friends of this place, and will be welcomed accordingly." Dianya smiled. "I know you are weary from your travels and from the battles you have had to fight. Please, take time to enjoy this place. Spend time here to relax and enjoy nature's beauty. Do not fear, for this place is protected by far more than mere archers and stone doors. You will be safe here, and can recover your strength."

"Thank you, my lady." Greywulf said, rising to his feet as she beckoned. "If you will not be bothered by such as us, we will stay the night perhaps. We have much we still must do, but a paradise such as this is cannot be so idly left."

"As you wish." Dianya said, nodding. "Whenever you do wish to leave, my elven guard will escort you out. Now go, and rest yourselves."

They bowed once more before leaving her presence, entering into the open areas of the grove, the large tree formations encircling them as they unloaded their things in a small corner of the grove, in awe of the beauty around them. "I had never expected to see such a thing in my life." Yoshimo said as he gazed about. "If ever I had one wish, it would be to come back and see this place again."

"I know what you mean." Aerie said with a smile. "This place…it almost reminds me of my home. It just seems so…comforting."

Each of them eventually went their separate ways, some sitting and relaxing among the shade of the area, others walking around, exploring the area, seeing the different sights, experiencing the different sights and sounds of the grove. Yoshimo sat with Minsc, watching Boo scamper around in the grass, quite enjoying himself. Keldorn was alone, a little further from the others, meditating. Greywulf and Aerie had also avoided sticking with the group and left to stalk the different routes and paths of the grove. They walked together through various scenes of bliss and beauty, reflecting the glory of nature and its wonderment. A faint chirping of some bird neither could quite identify echoed in the distance, its tone smooth and calming, blending alongside the reverberating dryad sounds, all mingling together in one joyous auditory feast, a perfect opposite from the ruckus so often heard in the city. They were stepping through the different paths and trails through the grove, quietly taking in the sights and sounds before them, when Aerie finally, though a bit hesitantly, asked, "So... is this your idea of a time alone to chat?"

"I don't know. It's kind of crowded, a tad noisy, and the atmosphere's too polluted. Not exactly a peaceful place if you ask me."

Aerie snickered, "So, what is your idea of peaceful if not here?"

"Well," Greywulf said in mock thought, "The city's pretty nice. Gotta love the Slums, you know. In fact, I've always liked the-"

Aerie cut him off with a glare, threatening with equally mocking irritation, "If you say the word circus…"

"Circus? I wasn't going to say circus." Greywulf said, feigning innocence. "I was going to say… er, give me a few minutes and I'll think of... wait, the fair! Yeah, we could go see the fair! Wait… aren't the fair… and the circus… Oops."

Aerie shoved him playfully, the half-elf rolling with the blow and falling into the grass, lying amongst the trees. Aerie sat down beside him, and the two of them sat quietly for a few seconds, enjoying the stillness of the area. The two of them began talking, and chatted for almost an hour, discussing whatever entered their minds: magic, history, legend and myth. As they talked, Greywulf found himself growing closer and closer to Aerie, though he was quite sure he didn't remember holding her hand when they first sat down. He was also quite sure he hadn't put his other arm around her shoulder when they first sat, and he spent the next second retracing his steps to where they were right now. He finally managed to track his way into the present moment, and found himself inches from her face, the two of them connecting in a small kiss, breaking apart quickly. Greywulf breathed in and out once, trying to clear his head, but he had no time as they found themselves kissing again, this time longer yet tenderly. They continued for almost a minute, when Greywulf finally managed to pull himself away, trying with all his willpower to think clearly. Aerie looked at him worriedly, asking, "What? Is…is something wrong? Did I-"

"No, no. Everything's just fine." Greywulf reassured, looking at the elf. "I just… I-"

Greywulf found himself staring at Aerie, trying to find the words to say to her, and trying to suppress the urge he had to take her and kiss her again. Suddenly, from behind him a voice came, "I'm sorry, am I interrupting anything?"

Whirling around, Greywulf saw Dianya, one eyebrow arched as she stood over the two of them. "Er...ahem, Aerie and I were just talking." Greywulf said, scrambling to his feet.

Aerie muttered an agreement as she stood as well, unsure of what to make of the situation. "If I could, I would speak with Greywulf for a moment. Might you excuse us, child?" Dianya said to Aerie, who smiled and nodded, hurriedly walking away, still in somewhat of a daze, but thinking about the situation nonetheless.

"Your definition of talking is... unusual." Dianya said with a smile, the two of them walking back towards the main areas of the grove.

"Well, I…" Greywulf began, but could not find the words to complete the thought.

"I know." Dianya said, laughing. "Remember, much of my magic comes from seeing people's hearts and their true feelings. I know what you feel for this girl Aerie... and I can tell you that you are correct in what you thought as soon as you kissed her."

Greywulf nodded once, "Remind me never to think anything private around you again."

Dianya laughed again, "Do not worry about her. You have been most helpful in her life already, but she will require more than just you to experience life to its fullest."

Greywulf nodded, but said somewhat wistfully, "Yes, I suppose I always knew. But still, the idea that I might experience love, it was a new feeling for me. I never thought-"

"That as a Child of Bhaal, someone could love you in that manner? Do not underestimate your humanity. The blood that runs through you is not all gods' blood. It is elf, and human. More of you is human than not. Take comfort in that."

"You are right." Greywulf acknowledged. "Forgive me, my lady, but I assume you had more to tell me than advice about my love life?"

Dianya smiled her teasing smile again, "You are correct. I have something to show you."

Greywulf followed her into the royal hall once again, and into a room full of drawings and scrolls, inscriptions upon the very surface of the trees. She walked over to a specific area, and gestured to it, asking, "Can you read this?"

Greywulf looked at it for a second, and then shook his head, "No, I fear not. It does look familiar though. From where, I cannot remember."

She pulled a small piece of parchment from her robes and handed it to him, asking, "Does this clear things a little?"

Greywulf's eyes flashed open as he read it, and looked up at her. "This is one of the three parchments detailing the staffs of the Five Wizards of Old, isn't it?"

"Yes... I sensed the presence of the section you hold when you arrived and I felt you might be interested in this. These walls tell the story of one of a powerful mage, and her battle using one of the staffs. Her name was Erana, and she was part elf, much like you or Jaheira."

She moved along the wall, telling the story as she went. "She was a great wizard, and as close to a paladin as could be without actually taking up that mantle. Much of her spell craft involved making gardens of peace and safety, impervious to harm and filled with calm and peace. No violence could occur there, and no evil could enter, either. She did this in many lands, until she was called to battle one fateful day, against an evil of the ancient years. A dark power was rising in the land of Mordavia, and she joined with an army of knights and paladins to combat it. A group of necromancers were calling forth a demon of old, the Dark One, or in its true name, Avoozl."

"I have heard of such a beast. It is said to be of great and terrible power, dwarfing the Balors and Pit Fiends by far." Greywulf offered.

"Indeed, it was a great and terrible evil; threatening all of Toril should it be unleashed. Erana battled the Necromancers alongside the Paladin Piotyr for many days, attempting to stop the rituals. At long last, she battled past the army and found the Dark One already beginning to creep into this world. She had no power great enough to combat this, and so performed a ritual of her own, summoning one of the Staffs of the Five to her. She used it to drive the Dark One back to its own world, but Erana was trapped in the process, enslaved in the cave of the Dark One, trapped between worlds."

"A terrible fate for one so noble." Greywulf said.

"True. Piotyr came too late and found the portal sealed up, Erana nowhere to be found. All that remained was her crystal pendant embedded in the wall, and the staff lying upon the ground. He brought the staff back with him, in hopes of finding a way of freeing Erana, but he never could. It was not until many years after Piotyr's death that a hero came to Mordavia, summoned by a new power seeking to release the Dark One, that the staff was used again. He summoned it to himself and was able to defeat the darkness threatening to overcome the land again. The staff was used to release her from her crystal pendant in which she had trapped her spirit, freeing her from her torment and giving her spirit life as a mortal once again. The hero and Erana eventually married, and as they traveled together, made their way here at one point. In fact, she helped create this glade you see before you."

"While she was here, Erana felt that her time using the staff had ended, and it was time for it to pass to another. She left it here for the next person of noble heart who could bind it to himself. The scrolls of binding were long destroyed though, and only three pieces remain, the ones you and I have, and one other."

"Why do you tell me this?" Greywulf asked hesitantly.

"I tell you this because I think you may be the one to perform such a ritual." She touched a side wall, which opened for her, and led to a large clearing, one grassy hill in the middle. Surrounded by flowers, out of the top protruded a long wooden staff. There was no design or inscription on the top, just plain wood, knobbed and gnarled at the very top, but plain nonetheless. "The staff has been here since that time, and it will remain until another utters the words of binding. If you want to complete her legacy and protect yourself for the battles you will face in the future, you would find the third section of scroll."

"Where is the third part?" Greywulf asked, trying to take in the information all at once.

"I do not know for certain, but I believe it is in the realm of Amn somewhere." Dianya said. "I have seen what lies before you... there will be much toil and death. If you are to survive and be victorious, you will need the power of this staff. Search for the other scroll near the elven city of Suldenesselar. They will know more."

"The city of the High Elves? Do you think they know where it is?"

"If anyone will, it is they. Here, take this other scroll. Keep it safe." Dianya said as he handed it to him.

They left the hall and entered back into the grove outside, many of the group asleep or by themselves, resting their minds and bodies. "Go, rejoin those you travel with. Your… friends."

Greywulf had noticed the hesitation in her voice as she spoke of his companions, and he paused a moment, questioning. She smiled, knowing his wonderment, and replied, "Know this… the path you tread is not an easy one. Those who accompany you will be sorely tested… there is the possibility that they may fail... that they may fall. One does not have to be a Bhaalspawn to be called by the taint of murder."

"I trust them more than anybody in this world, Dianya." Greywulf said with a sad smile. "I cannot lose faith in them; they have not done so in me, and I have given them much more reason to do so."

"Then it is enough." she smiled, lightening the heavy moment with her radiance. "May your faith be justified, godchild."

"Hamial, Dianya." Greywulf said as he bowed once again, doing his absolute best to remember the noble Elvish greetings and farewells.

She smiled at his courtesy, laughing lightly with approval. "Tarelioth, Greywulf."

He exited and reentered the courtyard of the grove, looking for his companions. Darkness had begun to fall over the grove, signs of night setting, and most were curled up in small beds, enjoying the warm air and soft grass. One still remained awake though; Jaheira sat alone, staring into the night, calmer and more at peace than Greywulf had seen for a long time, but still troubled. Greywulf approached her and asked, "Would you like to be alone?"

"No." Jaheira answered, looking up at him. "It is a great comfort to have someone else nearby whom I trust."

Greywulf sat down with her, saying, "You need not worry. We will be safe here. Dianya will not let anything happen to us while we are in Letherel."

"Even so, I cannot find the rest and peace I should." Jaheira replied with a hint of sadness. "This place, its simple calm and beauty awes me, and I miss that feeling I had before…before all this started."

"What is it that disturbs you so?" Greywulf questioned.

"What does not?" Jaheira said, a little harsher than she would have liked, before calming her emotions. "We have had many people seek our deaths so far. Some would have been friends had things been different. This weighs on my mind."

"As it does on mine. More so that you are in conflict with your own kind." Greywulf offered.

"I…I do not know what to suggest." Jaheira turned to Greywulf, a searching look of growing desperation in her eyes. "I would follow you, because I know you will ultimately do good, but they are my kin. I don't know what to do."

Greywulf's heart broke as he heard Jaheira's plea, but in searching his mind he found nothing, no wisdom or knowledge that could fix her problem. Finally, he bowed his head and said, "You can only do as you must, whatever that might be."

Jaheira nodded once, then snorted. "As all good advice, that was absolutely no help at all. Eh…enough of such depressing thoughts. This is still a great place of beauty, to be sure."

"Yes…yes it is." Greywulf voiced. "Dianya showed me a few things inside, and they have…enlightened me."

"What sorts of things?" Jaheira asked, curious.

"A few tales, a legend perhaps. It happens that one of the Staffs of the Five is located here, in this very glade."

Greywulf went on to relate the story of Erana to Jaheira, who took it in with surprising calm.

"It does not surprise me." Jaheira concluded. "I have heard of the wizardess Erana, though I did not know of her end. It is good that she has been freed from Avoozl; such a light should not be quenched so."

"Yes, I felt the same way. She came and told me this right after Aerie and I were finished talking-" Greywulf paused for a second, aware that he was saying a bit more than had intended to.

"And what exactly did you and she speak about?" Jaheira questioned, the tone in her voice showing she was still touchy concerning Aerie.

"Well, you know. Matters of the day, politics, the circus."

"Really. The circus." Jaheira said, unbelieving.

"Well, yes. The circus did pop up now and then." Greywulf defended.

"You haven't told her you aren't interested yet, have you." Jaheira sighed.

"Actually, that's kind of the problem." Greywulf admitted. "Technically, I never said I wasn't interested, you know."

"Oh no." Jaheira said, her head dropping.

"That's the thing. After a while, I think I've finally realized how I feel about her. And it isn't love, I know that much. But it did take a while to realize that."

"I'm glad you've come to your senses at least. When are you going to let her know?"

"Soon. Probably tomorrow, after we leave Letherel. But to be honest, I did enjoy the notion that I…I could love and be loved."

"You feel your blood repels others, and so you will never find a lover to spend your life with." Jaheira concluded.

"How did you know?" Greywulf asked, frowning. "Dianya said the same thing, but she reads minds."

"You don't need the gift of foresight to see what is in front of you." Jaheira explained. "You will find love someday, Greywulf. We have been friends for a long time now, and I have glimpsed the man in you. Someone will eventually see you for who you are, just as I do."

Jaheira paused for a second, then added hurriedly, "As a lover and not a friend, I mean."

"Of course." Greywulf smiled, relaxing upon the grass. "We should be getting some rest. If we are to set out tomorrow, we will need sleep, even in a place such as this."

Jaheira agreed, and as she walked back to her own belongings, the two of them both fell into slumber in the grove of Letherel, the songs and music that the dryads spun echoing in their ears and bringing dreams of beauty and light to their minds, something far too rare for their minds.

Even as they were sung to sleep by the beauty of the grove, Dianya watched them from her palace of wood and leaf. She had told Greywulf as much as she could… it would be up to him to forge his own path. Her gift of foresight was a blessing and a curse; the gods themselves forbid her from interfering too much in the Bhaalspawn's road, despite having the knowledge to prevent a possible tragedy. From what she had seen... there were so many possibilities. And so many tragedies that awaited should he choose foolishly. His faith in those he traveled with could prove to be his undoing… that much she had seen. Not everyone he traveled with was as loyal as they seemed; at least, loyal to his cause. Her beautiful eyes narrowed as she looked at each of the party members in turn, smiling wryly as she saw the one particular member toss and turn in the bedding. Few were unable to find rest in Letherel… unless they brought their struggles in with them. This one's struggles and sins were great and terrible, the dread mission unfolding and nearing completion every day traveled with the group. She prayed Greywulf would see the truth in time.

_Author's PostScript: Okay... Bonus point trivia time! 1 billion points(that's right, 1 BILLION with a 'B') to the first person to tell me by review just which RPG(which I also own nothing of) I unashamedly ripped off the story of Erana, Pioytr, and the Dark One from. No, I'm not doing a crossover or anything like that, strict BG2 here... I just thought the Erana story fit really well for my purposes. Hint: It was the 4th of the five installments of the series._


	35. Part 2: Life And Love Lost

_Author's Note: And we have a winner! Morgain, yes indeed, the correct answer is Quest for Glory 4. Glad someone besides me still remembers those old school games. 1 Billion points directly to your account for the first reviewer with the correct answer. Everyone else who read and thought of the correct game... well, sorry. Ah, the Quest for Glory series; back when we still ran things with tool bars that consisted of the 'walk', 'look at', 'use', and 'talk' cursors. Good times. Loved that whole line of games; King's Quest was a favorite of mine as well. _

It was an auspicious beginning to a bright new day; morning had come swiftly after the last of the party had gone to bed, the soft grass and warm breeze that seemed to fill the whole grove of Letherel was seemingly designed for comfort and peace in every possible situation, waking or sleeping. The serenades of the tree folk were scattered and wrapped about the trees, flowing gently as the first beams of sunlight rose above the rocky cliffs that encircled and protected the grove. Small pieces of dust fluttered and shimmered in the beams of sun, creating an aura of both humble majesty and splendor as the light spread across the ground until it covered the six sleepers.

Their leader was the first to rise, blinking once as his eyes adjusted to the light, a smile creeping across his face as he took in his surroundings. His body felt better than it had ever felt after even the most luxurious inn they had stayed in. Last night when he had fallen asleep, they had all been curled up on the comfy grass and content with such an easy and secure rest. Now... all six were currently perched on wooden beds that had apparently sprouted and formed out of tree roots directly under them while they were sleeping; sheets of green and emerald silk were covering each one of their bodies. Their heads were lying upon, at least for Greywulf, the softest feather down he had ever had the pleasure of sleeping upon. How Dianya had managed to perform such a feat without waking any of them in the process... he craned his head enough to look over at the palace of tree and leaf and saw Dianya watching from the window, smiling merrily in enjoyment as he grinned back at her.

With a wave of her hand, the roots seemed to unravel and slide back into the ground, though six roots stayed up, four to support his arms and legs and set him on his feet lightly, the other two clutching the pillow and blankets, drawing them over to a pair of approaching dryads. The wood-folk smiled broadly at the sight of him, then began giggling quietly as they took his bedding and headed back towards the palace, their lilting laughter echoing back to him as she shrugged. Unconcerned, he smoothed out his robes and headed over towards the palace to speak with the Dryad Queen.

The doors opened for him much as they had done with the beds, Greywulf walking through easily to the presence of Dianya, Lady of Letherel. He bowed once, Dianya nodding to him though a barely suppressed chuckle was on her face as she did. He smiled oddly, trying to figure out just what was so funny; Dianya noticed his confusion and gestured towards a mirror. He glanced over and winced; his brown hair was sticking up one on side with an almost perfect case of bedhead. "Er... sorry." he said as he tried to smooth down the offending locks. "So that's what the other dryads found so humorous. I don't suppose you have a spell for this..."

"My magic does many things, Greywulf... but it has its limits." she said teasingly as she handed him a comb from a drawer. "I trust you slept well?"

"Better than any inn, castle, or camp." he sighed. "I'll have to learn that spell some day."

Dianya took the comb from Greywulf when he was finished and returned it to its place. "Return someday and perhaps I shall teach you." she said as she opened a passage way down the palace hall behind him. "I know you must be hungry; there is food down there, as well as a place to bathe and wash. Take what time you need; I will rouse the rest of your friends soon."

"Thank you, my lady." he said gratefully, following the path she had laid for him. Even as he disappeared down the hall, Dianya walked over to the window once more, and with a whisper, each one of the others was slowly lowered to the ground, softly enough that none but Jaheira even realized something had changed. She raised herself up on one arm and gazed at the camp site, obviously pleased and at peace with the bounty of nature that surrounded them. Climbing to her feet, Jaheira glanced down at the four still asleep and prepared to wake them, but a bluish-green hand fell gently on her arm, Dianya shaking her head lightly. "Leave them be, Jaheira... you need not wake them for battle in such a place as this."

Jaheira nodded and shrugged. "As you wish, though I imagine I have little reason to fear warfare in your sanctuary."

"Perhaps you have little reason... but anticipate it you still do." Dianya's eyes narrowed, a grim smile still on her face as she studied Jaheira. "Are the members of your party ever at risk while you stand guard? Your spirit is so quick, your senses so fluid and your mind is moving so quickly; it is as though you are afraid to be caught in the present lest you fall into the past."

Jaheira managed a small smile, understandably unnerved as Dianya gazed into her. "Sometimes the past is best left buried."

"Jaheira... do you truly think you can lie to me?" Dianya said with a hint of amused reproval. "The memories are never left unclaimed or untouched. Purposefully or otherwise, you cannot outrun your past. It defines you in more ways than one; the good memories of ones whom you loved and cared about; memories of the lessons learned in both hardship and in peace... and the reasons for why you trust whom you trust."

"What do you mean?" Jaheira asked cautiously.

Dianya did not answer but remained silent for a moment. Finally her face lost all solemnity and returned to its former cheer. "Speak and wonder no more of what I have said. Keep my words close to your heart... and may they guide you well. My daughters are awaiting you in the hall of the palace; they will take you to food and bath."

Jaheira did not pry further; she only nodded and departed as well, though Dianya heard her thoughts, tumbling the advice of Dianya over in her head again and again as though trying to decipher the meaning. Dianya exhaled and then gestured down with her hand, touching Aerie and waking the petite elf. Aerie's eyes flashed open, the blue contrasting beautifully with the green all around. Dianya raised one finger to her lips with a smile, Aerie nodding in understanding as Dianya helped the elf to her feet. They walked slowly and quietly away from the other sleepers, waiting until they were a distance away before she spoke. "Good morning, child. I have prepared a meal and bath for all of you; if you will follow the dryads awaiting you in the hall, you will be taken there."

"Thank you, Dianya... thank you for everything so far." Aerie said gratefully. "You don't know how much... well, maybe you do, but just how much this place reminds me of home. It- it is not a feeling I thought I would experience again."

"I know; you have suffered much in your years of life. I would ask you to know that I do not call you child because of your age, Aerie; rather because of your light and how undimmed it is. You have a spark of purity and a strength that is rare in those who live your life. You draw strength from those around you as well; treasure that, Aerie. Treasure it and hold it close... for the time will come when you face your greatest test. All your light and all your strength will mean nothing if you do not use it now; you have done well and grown much as one of these good men and women... but the most important battle will be waged on your own, with only your own self to guide you."

"I... I don't understand." Aerie said with a hint of confusion and uncertainty in her voice. "Battle? I-"

"No more questions, Aerie... you have much to do today, and the future is just that: the future."

Dianya veritably shooed the girl away before she left, Dianya moving to gaze upon the next sleeper. Her choice was already made for her, Minsc yawning widely as he stretched his massive arms, cocking his head one way as he finally relaxed, absentmindedly scratching his stomach with one hand while he scratched Boo's head with the other. Boo was quick to hop out of his hand and back into the grass and flowers of the grove. Minsc watched with contentment as Dianya called him over as well. She exhaled gently; the future was a tricky thing to read, even for one as skilled as herself. Still... each one had a great trial in the future; each one would be tested sorely, as she had told Greywulf the night before. Even if she could not inform Greywulf of the dangers ahead, telling his companions might be enough. Would they remember these small bits of wisdom in the days to come, handed to them in the first moments of awakening? Perhaps not... but the future was not set. So many different paths lay before the Bhaalspawn and those who followed him. Some led to triumph, others to tragedy. Some to life... and far too many to death. She shook away her thoughts as the ranger approached her. "Good morning, Minsc..."

X X X X X X X

"My lady, the time and joy you have granted us by the time spent here is immeasurable... you have done far more for us than could ever have been desired or expected."

All six of them stood before the throne of Letherel, fully garbed in armor and weaponry, their packs filled with fresh supplies and new water; elven arrows of great craftsmanship in the quiver of Yoshimo, an expert sharpening upon magic steel giving their blades a razor's edge. Dianya looked down upon them from her throne, her elven guard behind the six of them, ready to escort them out; her dryad daughters lined the hall that led out. Dianya waved his comment off, shaking her head. "Do not think that the meager offer of food and rest can compare with the gift you have given us; returning the lives of our sisters to us when we had thought them out of reach. You are forever welcome in this place; should you ever require sanctuary, do not hesitate to return to our home."

"Thank you, my lady. Would that we might stay longer... but one of our friends is in dire peril; captive, much like your dryad sisters were." Greywulf explained.

"I understand. Take care in these woods. A restless evil lurks in these lands... one which our power cannot protect you against. Once you leave the wood, our power diminishes. Keep on your guard and do not fear. Your Imoen will be safe soon enough. With you chasing after her, hope remains strong. May you find all things you desire, just as you found our dryad sisters." Dianya said, gesturing to her elven guard.

She watched the elves escort the six of them away, preparing to leave the small place of paradise and return to the world outside. Their path was a bit more solemn this time around, knowing what beauty they were about to give up. They took in ever last sight and noise before they reached the doors of stone; another set of incantations and they swung open once more. "We shall escort you to where we found you in the first place." the elf captain said. "After that... you will be on your own."

He led them on quietly, the others following easily back towards the road they had been walking on before. The six almost felt ashamed to be traveling with the elves, their footsteps sounding loud and obnoxious when compared to the inaudible foot-falls of the nimble elves. Remarkably, or maybe unremarkably, the moment the path from before came into view, Keldorn turned to thank the elven escort... and found them gone. He shook his head wryly, and then adjusted one shoulder of his pack as they continued their journey.

Greywulf spared a glance at Aerie as she trudged along in the rear, not exactly breathing heavily, but their pace was quick enough that it was no easy walk. He remembered the promise he had made to himself the night before; to talk to her about the events of the day before; to... well, break it off.

No, that sounded ridiculous. There wasn't anything to break off. They had kissed once, that's all; it was simple, straightforward... and totally, absolutely unexplainable. He sighed; the last thing he wanted was to hurt the girl, and it would be so easy to remain as they were, letting their relationship continue in this fashion until who knows what developed. But it wouldn't be fair; not to him, and definitely not to Aerie. She trusted him implicitly; to betray her in the end would harm her more than this ever could. As much as he wanted to think otherwise, he knew the truth. He didn't love her. And dragging a relationship on that wasn't based on love in the first place... this was the right thing to do. Oh, he had thought- hoped it was love for a long time, told himself and allowed himself to believe it beyond a shadow of a doubt for a few moments... until their lips had met. It was then he knew; he didn't love Aerie. Oh, he liked her all right; she was beautiful and innocent, loyal and faithful. All qualities he admired and drew him to her; all qualities that made him respect her too much to string her along.

"Aerie, do you mind if we talk for a moment?" Greywulf asked as he settled into walking by her. She met his presence with a look of happiness, a joy in her step that he had been hoping he would find amidst their group. This was not going to be easy.

"Of course, what is it, Greywulf?"

"I... 'ahem'. I thought we needed to talk about what happened. Yesterday, back in Letherel... between us. I think- well, I thought about it a lot. But I..."

Aerie's brow furrowed nervously as he tried to find the words, no longer as certain as before. "What about yesterday? Did I do something wrong? I-"

"No, no..." Greywulf exhaled deeply. "I just think it was a mistake."

For a moment, all was silent between the two... Greywulf tearing himself up and down for the pain he knew he was causing. "Aerie, before you say anything... please let me explain. Give me a chance to tell you why."

Aerie didn't even speak; she only nodded as she gazed at him, her face only too well expressing the shock and disappointment she was feeling. "Aerie... you know I'm not what most would consider 'normal people'. I know it, and I know it'll never be different. I'm always going to be a Bhaalspawn, and I can't change that fact. All of you here, you've traveled with me long enough to know me, but most people don't, or wouldn't even take the time to. Bhaalspawn has a meaning, and while I may not fit into the general stereotype, people won't and don't hesitate to slap me with it."

"Y-you know I don't think of you like that." Aerie swallowed.

"I know." Greywulf said gently. "But I know how everyone else does. 'Hero of Baldur's Gate' one minute, almost run out of town the next when rumors I might be a Bhaalspawn leaked out. And ever since I found out, I never thought it would be possible for me to find someone who might be willing to look past my heritage and... well, have a relationship with. I pretty much threw the idea out and hoped for the best of life without love. And then you came along, and... you were understanding. You didn't judge me based on who my father was, or what my so-called destiny was going to be. You gave me back hope... and I grabbed at it. I snagged it as soon as I could in case the opportunity never came along again. The problem is... I never really stopped to ask myself whether I was trying to have a relationship with you because I really felt like there was something between us, or just because I could and because the opportunity was there. When I finally was able to see things straight, when we kissed... I realized that I didn't feel what you were feeling."

"Don't get me wrong Aerie, you're a beautiful girl, but for me to... to drag you along even though I know I'm not being genuine would be a disservice to you. It would be despicable, in fact, and I respect you far too much to put you through that. This isn't much better, I know... but it's the best I've got to offer right now."

A deep inhalation of air escaped him, finally finished. He had hated himself for every word, even though it was all true; but to his great surprise and amazement and relief, Aerie wasn't shouting at him, not running away in grief or sorrow... she was still right there with him. Her emotions were running strong undoubtedly; her eyes glimmered with suppressed tears, but she eventually managed a nod and something that almost resembled a smile, her head bowed, not quite able to meet his gaze. "T-thank you for telling me now, Greywulf. I... it would have hurt a lot more if you had waited until we were something more. This hurts too... but I know you didn't want to."

Greywulf sighed in relief; one hand took Aerie by the chin and raised her face to look at his as he wiped a small tear from her cheek. "You're quite a girl, Aerie. Most women right now would be slapping me silly or shouting me down with good reason... but not you. You're a good friend, Aerie... and maybe someday we will be more than friends and companions. But for now..."

"I understand." she whispered weakly, smiling as Greywulf bent over and kissed her gently on the cheek. "Thanks."

He slowly turned and headed back towards the front of the formation, leaving Aerie behind him; neither one probably truly happy with the exchange... but at the very least, it was done. Should they be meant to be together, it would come in time... but pressing it for the sake of just having a relationship was foolish. Caution and patience served well in many situations, warfare, negotiation and even love. He shook his head; _I'm starting to sound like Gorion or Jaheira. _

"So, how does our resident elven maiden fare?" Yoshimo's voice echoed beside him, the thief having traversed the formation to get to his side as they went, unheard by Greywulf amidst his thoughts and still raging emotions. "From what I observed, she did not seem to be in too much grief."

"And why should she be in any grief to begin with? Perhaps we were having a simple chat about the weather." Greywulf said, arching one eyebrow as he looked at the now chuckling bounty hunter.

"Come Greywulf, surely you know I have the ears of a fox; no tiny secret or conversation slips by unheard when the great Yoshimo is near." he said proudly, flipping one of his locks of hair to the side with what looked like a practiced gesture.

"And that's exactly why the Letherel elves nearly pincushioned all of us from five feet away."

"A fluke." he tossed back. "I knew they were there all along, to announce that knowledge might have alarmed them and caused them to fire. Not that they could have hit the incredible acrobatic talent of Yoshimo, Master-"

"I get it, you're absolutely fantastic and all that." Greywulf sighed. Sometimes he cursed how often he needled his companions and in doing so gave them the right to do it right back to him. "Was there something important you wanted to tell me about, Yoshimo? I'm trying to keep us all from getting killed, you know."

"I had merely wanted to advise you to keep a close eye on Aerie; I certainly hope she is not too discomforted by the loss of our fearless leader's amorous intentions, but it would be more than disappointing to see her backslide in the steps she has taken in maturing in her new life."

"What do you mean?" Greywulf frowned.

"Watching her in the past days it would seem her outlook on life, previously so grim and uninviting, had changed to a bit more... bright, yes? Perhaps this could be related to her zeal to have a relationship of sorts with you, to fly figuratively since she can no longer do so literally? Without it, she might easily fall into another pit of doubt again; Minsc's charm and humor will not be able to suppress her fears forever, you know."

Greywulf considered it; truly, that possibility had escaped him entirely. Not that it probably would have changed his mind entirely, but it might have made a difference in what he said to the girl. He nodded to the bounty hunter, "You have a valid point, Yoshimo. Perhaps I should be asking you for advice more often."

"Of course you should." Yoshimo laughed. "Not that you needed or asked for it here, of course. Continue to lead us poor simpletons onward, Greywulf; Yoshimo will follow, trusting in your skills to keep me from getting killed."

The sorcerer snorted as Yoshimo fell behind a bit, apparently seeking a new target for his wit in Minsc. A bird call echoed to the side; it flew past the group as they neared, seeking refuge elsewhere, away from the six intruders to its home. He watched the wings flap easily, soaring away... Yoshimo's words held some merit. It would be more than a little disappointing if she fell apart again now; the group was just beginning to gel like it had been before, fighting as one, thinking as one; they couldn't afford to have Aerie in the state from before. What that meant for her future, with the group and otherwise... it remained to be seen.

They soon reached the end of the forest that surrounded the Windspear lands, finally pushing into the bright light of the afternoon sun, no longer so shaded by the trees. Large stones and streams dominated much of this particular area, along with the trees here and there. Despite Firkraag's claim of infestation by monsters, they had not encountered anything of import so far, running off a few kobolds easily. The lands seemed both fertile and unspoiled, not a terrible place for farms or settlements. Every now and then they would come across what looked like a former plot of land that had been farmed or lived upon, but there were scarce more than a few stones or rusted tools to say so.

An ancient mark stone to signify border and distances of territory was lying close by, a telling fact to how close they were to their destination. This however, did show some sign of destruction. It had been a large stone statue of a royal man, a king perhaps, but time had done its work and so had the orcs and ogres in the area, for what was not covered in moss and vines was defaced and cut into; the likeness of some sort of orcish crown had been placed on his head and the face had been shaped to something resembling, oddly enough, not a orc, but more... reptilian in nature. Jaheira snorted in disgust, as they paused briefly for a rest, glancing up at the statue. "Again I must say how much I prefer the forest to artificial structures. Everything I see reinforces that to no end."

"Admittedly, the city is not the paradise that nature can seem to be at times." Keldorn shrugged. "But it is not always so. I have seen great examples of the counter; many places in nature bear land I would not dare to travel without great persuasion."

"The land is not always a kind mistress, but nothing is ever a mistake when under her control." she countered. "The city, no matter how perfect or beautiful on the outside, is always but a cover for what lies beneath. There are no secrets in the midst of the forest; everything functions as well as it should without the interference of outsiders."

"Minsc prefers the out of doors as well. Cities teem with evil and decay; but nature can be clean enough for those good folk to enjoy it without danger or fear. Too many people do not have the courage to fight evil like us and must live in fear. Perhaps more time spent away from the city would be good for everybody. Boo thinks so."

"Your hamster never ceases to amaze me, Minsc." Yoshimo grinned, leaning up against the stone as Minsc knelt to let Boo on the ground for a bit. "Truly, I had never heard of the noble Giant Space Hamster before meeting you. And for you to have found a Miniature of the species... Tymora must have been caring greatly for you that day."

Aerie covered a brief smile as she listened, Greywulf noticing and saying a quiet thank-you to Yoshimo, the thief continuing the conversation with Boo, Minsc, and Keldorn as he not-so-subtlely did his best to entertain the Avariel. He grinned once as he stepped back to let the four of them chat for a while as they took their rest, staying back with Jaheira, who was watching with some measure of satisfaction as well. "This boundary marker should be within a mile of the castle; we are close now."

"Close, but not out of danger." Jaheira noted, glancing at the marker again. "The further we travel into these lands, the more I feel as though we are being drawn into a lion's den. Whatever this Firkraag wants or desires of us... we should do it quickly and be gone from here."

"If you wish, we could forgo the job altogether and head back to the city; we haven't yet made contact and he wouldn't know the difference if we were to leave without stopping."

Jaheira considered it for less than a second before shaking her head. "'No... no, we must see this through, despite any unknown perils. Besides... I have been in the city quite long enough for a while. Enough bustle and clamor... I already find myself missing Letherel."

"You're not the only one." he shrugged. "Still, the city isn't all bad. There is order there, to some degree. It is not easy to see that in nature."

"Ah, but only if you choose not to look. Nature falls into balance, whereas man must work for his." she countered. "I just prefer… the simpler roles of nature."

Greywulf nodded in agreement, before bowing his head slightly, a hint of shame in his voice as he spoke. "Your role is as harsh as you make it, though yours is difficult because of me, I know."

"No," Jaheira said with a frown, abruptly turning to look at him. "I find comfort because of you, not difficulty. Others cannot see what I do, and it is their intolerance that makes it difficult."

Greywulf was silent for a moment, the others beginning to slide their packs on again, preparing to continue onward. "And what is it you see in me?"

"I see…I see a confidant. I see someone undeserving of the scorn of the ignorant. I see… I…" Jaheira shook her head once, then smiled weakly and turned back to the path ahead. "Now I am babbling like a brook. We should not dawdle like this; let's get moving."

Greywulf breathed a sigh and sprinted toward the head of the line, leading them forward once more. A scant half-hour had passed before they found the main path leading to the front gate of the Windspear Castle. However, things were not nearly as resplendent as they had imagined. It was in no better condition than the boundary marker they had passed and seemed to be in shambles as well. Crumbling walls and towers adorned its' sides, the gate hanging open as the wood rotted away. A giant chasm opened up right inside the gate, swallowing everything that might try to enter.

"This makes no sense." Keldorn said grimly, picking up a piece of the gate even as it fell apart in his armored hand, tossing the remains into the pit before them. "You told me this Firkraag told you of his offer naught more than a month ago. Yet his dwelling place looks as though it were in disrepair for many years. What has happened here?"

"Help!"

The terrified cry was enough to draw all of them to the ready, whirling in search of the source. The sound of someone running hard began crashing through the wooded area to the right of the castle; each one drew weapons and moved forward cautiously, the sound growing closer and closer-

A small cluster of men and women burst through the trees, the looks on their faces ones of terror and fear. It was little use to ask what they were doing; the continuous sounds coming from the wood guaranteed their pursuers were not far behind. They quickly braced themselves, Keldorn barking a quick order for the civilians to keep running; they had little opportunity to say more as the first of a horde of orc, gnolls, and ogres burst through the trees before them.

Their ambush was a complete success; an arrow from Yoshimo struck the foremost orc, dropping him before the others even knew what was happening. Keldorn's blade hewed one gnoll who had barely raised his halberd, Jaheira's spear catching an ogre in the chest.

The rest of he beasts had surprisingly fast reaction time, moving to defend with measured blows and strikes, the usual savagery of such monsters unusually lacking. Still, with surprise and magic on their side, the outcome was never really in doubt. Greywulf's potent spells were enough to squelch any hope the monsters might have had of turning the battle around.

When the last sword stroke fell, hewing the back of an orc and sending him to the ground, black blood staining the dirt, Keldorn pulled back and sighed relief, the abrupt battle over. He started to turn to look for the civilians... but before their very eyes, the shapes and forms of the bodies upon the ground blurred, changing form and shape. They reformed themselves into the shapes of humans, not orcs and ogres, but knights and paladins by the look. The blood that had run black was now red, and the signs upon their hewed armor had the look of the Order of the Radiant Heart. Keldorn recoiled in shock at the new sight, stumbling backward as his mind thudded in confusion, trying to make sense of the whole affair. The others could offer no better explanation; the same disbelief on their faces.

Before anyone could utter a word, the sound of a bow twanging and more arrows piercing flesh took place back toward the wood behind them, the direction the civilians had run through. They hurried away, hoping someone could provide a measure of answers for them. They pressed on, finally entering a clearing-

One man, looking to be in his early fifties was kneeling over the bodies of a dozen orcs, most of them with arrows through them, though a few had sword wounds as well. The man had a half-empty quiver on his back and the long sword he held was bloodied; his head jerked upward at the arrival of the party, his eyes narrowing in surprise. "Halt... come no closer, strangers, without identifying yourself. There are two more groups of monsters in the area, both very close by here, near the entrance to the castle. If you are not a friend of the evil in this land, you would do well to keep quiet and stay down."

"We are a group of adventurers, called here to rid the land of the creatures that plague it." Greywulf answered cautiously, still uncertain of their surroundings and situation. "Were there any peasants who came by here earlier? Fleeing from the monsters of this land?"

"Peasants?" the stranger shook his head. "There have not been settlements here in over fifteen years. The only things living here are orcs and ogres."

"Then perhaps we need to have a talk." Greywulf warned. "I think there's something you need to take a look at."

X X X X X X X

The journey back to the cabin of this woodsman was a quiet one; nobody was truly wishing to encounter any more creatures, especially not when their identities were suspect. The so-called creatures had been knights indeed, and the peasants they had let slip by... orcs. Undoubtedly leading the knights in pursuit of them... right into the arms of the party, who, were probably just as monstrous in visage to the knights as they had been to the party. For all their study of this Firkraag and preparation for any treachery or trickery... they had still been played for fools. Keldorn had scarce spoken since the whole ordeal, no doubt taking it the hardest of all of them. Still, the stranger had just led them to their destination, a fairly nice log cabin situated in the woods, almost half-way between the Castle and the outskirts of the grove of Letherel.

After they had all slipped inside, he uncloaked his head and said to a young maiden inside, "Mary! We have guests. Some food for these travelers."

She nodded once, and after glancing at the group, walked to a different room to fetch some food. The man glanced at them as he hung his cloak on a peg on the wall, gesturing towards a large table and some chairs. "Please sit. From the details you have told me so far, I think I understand your situation. But it would help if you told me everything."

Greywulf nodded and told him everything of their experiences so far in the Windspear Hills, excluding the location of Letherel. He listened intently... but as Firkraag's name came up, his eyes narrowed and his hand clenched tight.

"You know of this man, I take it." Yoshimo said, noticing his reaction.

"Aye, I know of him. He is the reason I am here today, and undoubtedly the perpetrator behind the death and deception you have seen today."

"Who are you anyway?" Minsc asked as the food was brought out. "Boo appreciates the meal, but he likes to know from whose plate he eats."

"I am Garren Windspear, former Lord of these Lands, though it has been some time since I have been called to stand on ceremony." the man said, standing to his feet and bowing once.

"Windspear." Greywulf repeated grimly. "We have heard of you. In fact, we read the account of your time as Lord over these hills, penned by your very hand."

"So, you know of my fall. Then you know what a vile creature this Firkraag is. He has caused me no end of pain in my life, and my only consolation is Mary, my daughter." Windspear said, clutching his daughter, only about sixteen years of age.

"Why are you still here then? If Firkraag has done so much harm to you, why do you remain in his grasp?" Jaheira questioned.

"My blood is in these hills; I grew up here and toiled here for good or ill my entire life. I could not leave it in the vile hands of Jierdan Firkraag, not while I still draw breath. My only task in life is to one day reclaim these lands and drive out Firkraag's reign of terror. As I said, virtually no people remain in these lands, and I would see the Hills flourish again. I do my small part, hunting down Firkraag's marauding bands of orcs and ogres, stinging the giant as a gnat would."

"A noble idea, but ultimately doomed. A few orcs here and there will not seriously hurt Firkraag while he owns this land. You will not drive him away as long as he still owns the deed to these hills." Keldorn said grimly.

"Ah, but that is what gives me hope." Windspear said triumphantly. "He does not possess the deed, I do. I will continue to attempt to avenge myself upon this tyrant."

"I see." Greywulf said. "But I fear we have more issues to discuss. What of the knights we killed, posing as creatures. Their reaction was swift; they did not try to negotiate or talk; they undoubtedly saw us as we saw them, beasts and monsters."

"Firkraag's doing, no doubt. When he first set out to ruin me, he destroyed my reputation. Word will spread that you have killed these knights, soiling what reputation you have built for yourself and bringing the wrath of the Radiant Heart down upon your party unless someone intercedes for you. I still have a few contacts left in the Order of the Radiant Heart I can work with. If you will wait here at the cabin, I will journey there and plea for your names."

"You would do that for a group of strangers?" Aerie asked. "You are most generous."

"We are common allies, Firkraag our enemy. I do not know what you have done to offend him, but he has targeted you. Unlike me, however, you may have the power to strike back at Firkraag himself."

"We will await you here then." Greywulf said, standing to shake Windspear's hand. "Rest assured, if you can clear our names, we will bring Firkraag to justice."

Windspear nodded and grabbed his bow and a quiver full of arrows, then said as he left, "Wait here until I return. I will not be more than a few days travel. Once I have returned, we will plan further movement against Firkraag." As he left the house, a faint neighing was heard, and the sound of a horse galloping away echoed as Windspear headed for Athkatla.

Keldorn breathed out heavily and sat, staring at the table before him. Greywulf joined him, not saying anything as Keldorn shuddered. "Are you all right, Keldorn?"

"Those knights we killed… I knew some of them." Keldorn said quietly. "I even trained one as my squire for a short time, Ajantis… a newly dubbed paladin. What kind of creature would go to such lengths to ruin us and cause such pain as well?"

"I thought I recognized Ajantis…" Jaheira murmured, Keldorn turning to her in surprise. "We met him near Baldur's Gate. He traveled with us for a short time, aiding us in a few of our own ventures before leaving to seek his own path. He mentioned you as his mentor briefly, Keldorn, but I had forgotten."

"Minsc does not know what kind of monster this Firkraag is, who makes knights look like orcs and orcs look like people... but we promise we will stop him. Boo will see vengeance brought." Minsc said quietly.

"The more I discover, the surer I am that this Firkraag is the same man I fought many years ago." Keldorn said softly. "I could never seek him out then, for it would be vengeance I sought, not justice. I am still forbidden by the Code of the Paladin to hunt him down without proof of his guilt. But perhaps now… perhaps my family will have rest at last."

"If it is him, we will see their honor restored." Greywulf assured. "I promise you that."

X X X X X X X

"So, how does Imoen's conditioning go?" Irenicus asked Bodhi, as they stood upon an upper terrace in Spellhold, overlooking the main chamber, orcs scurrying about below carrying out their tasks.

"She is gathering her strength back every day." Bodhi purred. "Soon she will be ready for the vampiric taint to be instilled in her blood."

"You truly intend to make her into what you once were?" Irenicus asked with amusement, one eyebrow arched.

"Why should I not? Why should I be the only one to experience the torment of eternal death without feeling, hope or even an essence of your own? She will be my obedient servant, and will die every night, knowing I have what she once had and will never regain." Bodhi spat.

Irenicus laughed once, "You are truly vindictive, dear Bodhi. Although we shall see how I feel when Greywulf is within my grasp. I have not had hope for many years, and it will be a new feeling."

While Bodhi and Irenicus sat and talked, Imoen sat in her cell, legs crossed, her breathing even and rhythmic, her eyes closed. As she sat and stretched out her mind, resting her body and spirit, trying to regain as much magical energy as possible, she stretched out her mind and felt for the first time in many days, a taste of the outside world. She lingered for one second, than pulled back, afraid of Irenicus sensing her mental reach. As she heard footsteps approaching her cell, she quickly got up and began grunting slightly, wandering about her cell mindlessly, slamming her fist into random objects, doing her absolute best to fake the mindlessness she had been fronting for Bodhi and Irenicus.

An orc passed by the cell, looked at her briefly, then passed by, leaving Imoen alone again. She waited a moment longer, then dropped her charade, breathing a sigh of relief. She thought of how glad she was that she knew magic, that… someone had taught her. Greywulf, that was it. She barely remembered her friends' names anymore, so drained her mind was from the constant 'conditioning' Bodhi was trying to turn her with. At least she had been given back some normal clothes again to wear, somewhat reminiscent to what she had worn when being captured. She hoped Greywulf would rescue her soon, but most of her hope had long since faded, and so she sat down again, crossed her legs and closed her eyes, wrapping magic around her once again, attempting to gather enough for her escape.

X X X X X X X

"I truly thank you for your presence here." Mary said with a smile, moving the dishes away from the table as the group finished a meal. It had been almost two days since Windspear had departed, and despite the hospitality of their host, the group was growing both anxious to find their enemy and to hear about their fate with the Order of the Radiant Heart.

"We will not see Firkraag haunt your father's steps any longer, of that I assure you." Keldorn said, sitting at the table with Greywulf and Jaheira, while Aerie, Yoshimo and Minsc had left for a while to scout the outside forest area.

"I know… and I think my father knows this as well. I have not seen him with this much hope for many years. He has been downcast for so long, this is almost a new experience for him."

Greywulf nodded, understanding. Windspear's body was aging into his mid fifties, but his strength and vigor were not diminished. However, his will to remain fighting was growing weaker every year Firkraag continued to torment his life. It appeared Mary was his anchor to life, keeping him from slipping past the point of no return.

"Where is your mother?" Jaheira asked.

"She died during childbirth." Mary said, looking down. "I never knew her, and so Father cared for me alone. He has done his best, but he tries to do too much. If this matter with Firkraag is not resolved soon, I fear it will claim his life."

"We will not let any harm befall him. As long as we are here, Firkraag shall not touch him."

Mary smiled weakly, and then returned to the chores of the house. As she left, Jaheira whispered to Greywulf, "It is not Garren I worry for. Firkraag has already demonstrated that his means are meant to torture, not just kill. He has attempted to destroy our reputation, and then us, knowing we will come for him. He has tormented Windspear for many years. What better way to continue the torment than to deprive him of his daughter?"

"You think he will come for her?" Keldorn asked harshly.

"I do not know, but we had best be on our guard. A dark shadow has been pressing upon me, and I fear the worst."

As they continued talking, the door blasted open, Minsc, Yoshimo and Aerie rushing in and slamming the door behind them. "Orcs!" Minsc cried, but had no time to say any more, as the door splintered under a fierce rain of orc sword blows. As the barricade fell, the orcs began to crawl through the opening. Yoshimo's bow was quick though, and struck many who attempted to enter. However, the whole door collapsed quickly, and orcs soon began to pour into the room, slamming into the six fighters.

"Defend Mary! They must not get her!" Greywulf shouted, stepping to block the doorway to where Mary hid, the others joining his block as well. Their blades and spells turned back many of the attacking orcs, but a seemingly endless tide continued to enter. As they fought, Greywulf heard a loud crash behind him, and turned back in time to see a hole broken into the back of the cabin, a new horde of orcs rushing straight into the room where Mary was. Greywulf whirled about and rushed back to aid the girl, but he was too slow, and three orcs jumped in front of him to block his passage. He swept his quarterstaff around and knocked one aside and parried the other two; with a word of power he blasted the second orc into oblivion. The third struck down upon his staff and pinned it to the ground and with an elbow strike knocked Greywulf to the side.

He rolled with it, trying to get to his feet before another orc leapt forward and kicked out with one foot, smashing into the side of Greywulf's head. The world strobed with pain and a flashing light as he saw stars, unable to move or think with the pain and dizziness that washed through his body. A faint scream echoed in his ears, and through his blurred vision he could barely make out the form of three orcs clutching Mary Windspear, dragging her back out the back of the cabin, Mary's eyes wide with terror as she helplessly screamed, one hand outstretched toward the fallen sorcerer, pleading for someone to aid her. Greywulf raised one arm, trying to reach out to her as well, but his strength had fled; the world was spinning faster and faster with each passing second.

_But... but we won... orcs retreat- Mary... gone...? Getting dark... must have been... bad... bad head... head-_

His own outstretched hand dropped back down, his head slumping over with it.


	36. Part 2: Willing Sacrifice

_Author's Note: Okay... sorry, about the extremely short chapter here; I'll try to make up for it next time. Right now... Well, I'm tired from studying all day and I've still got more homework to do tomorrow. Hope this little chapter tides you over until I get the chance to post again. _

A bitter wind, tinted with smoke and ash seemed to fill the once peaceful cabin, now scattered with debris and a gaping hole in the back and through the front door. The bodies of numerous dead orcs had been piled up outside and were currently burning, the putrid stench of their flesh burning making the situation even more unbearable. It had not been an impossible situation to defend; they had merely been too focused on one point, never seeing the rear attack that took every one of them by surprise, almost killing Greywulf, had that been the orcs' design. Thankfully, it was not, and he had survived, though currently unconscious and laid up on a dust and dirt covered bed.

What made it worse was that Garren Windspear had yet to return to his dwelling, unknowingly coming home to a ruined and shattered calm; his daughter taken by the band of orcs, undoubtedly sent by Firkraag. Repairs could be made to the house itself, but it would take days to fully complete. The orcs had done as much damage to the home as possible while there; out of spite if nothing more. Keldorn and Minsc continued guarding the back of the home, building a makeshift barrier that would at the very least serve as an impediment to any returning invaders, enough time for them to hear the attempted to break in and move to counter it. Yoshimo stood at the front, searching for Garren's return, while Jaheira and Aerie tended to Greywulf's wounds, the unconscious sorcerer lying still, his chest rising and falling rhythmically.

Jaheira finished a small healing on his side, where he had taken a good bit of wood shards when knocked down. She nodded in satisfaction, glancing over to see Aerie finishing her divine chants over his head, trying to clear the pain and dizziness that was sure to follow when he finally awoke. "How bad is the injury?"

Aerie knit her brow in thought, returning Jaheira's query. "It... it felt like a bad concussion. I think he will be fine when he wakes up. His side?"

"It will heal in time... just another scar in a matter of days." the druid sighed. "Greywulf's health is the least of our worries right now, though... Mary is of prime importance."

"Should we start searching as soon as Greywulf is ready to travel, then?"

"No... no, we must wait for Garren Windspear to return. He must be told what has taken place; if he returns to this and nobody is left to explain what has happened, he will rightfully assume the worst. His concern for Mary will drive him to lengths unknown; he would oppose Firkraag alone, and be summarily slaughtered. We must make certain the girl has someone to come back to."

"I guess." Aerie nodded. "I just... I feel so helpless, like we failed. I suppose I shouldn't, but-"

"To some extent, we did fail." Jaheira replied with irritation. "It was our duty to watch over this house, and we could not succeed. It is that simple; do not over complicate it."

"And the fact that there were dozens of orcs makes no difference?" Aerie retorted, her tone matching Jaheira's.

"No." she said stonily. "Numbers should make no difference; it is what separates the good from the dead. One lesson of many you would do well to learn."

"It sounds like you've a number of things to learn too." Aerie retorted, turning on her heel before Jaheira could reply and stalking over toward the point Yoshimo had set up to watch for Garren's return.

Jaheira watched her go... then smiled wryly. The girl was developing some backbone; she had wondered when it would happen. A good step for her, so long as she was able to keep it from arrogance or impertinence. Perhaps she was being a bit harsh on the girl, she could not help but wonder... but a low groan from Greywulf brought her attention back to the man lying before her, examining his head wound. It had stopped bleeding for the most part, and Aerie's spells had done a good job. His head began to rise a bit, but with another groan he fell back, unconscious still. Jaheira sighed; for someone supposed to be in the back of the fight, casting spells and protected by the more armored, fighting types in the front... the boy got hurt a lot.

Keldorn grunted once as he dropped the load of wood he had been carrying by the blockade in the back, wiping some sweat from his brow as he flexed his fingers, trying to keep the blood flowing. He had taken a small blow to the arm in their last battle; it was nothing serious, but his grip was a little off. The manual labor would have been much more comfortable had the two men taken off their armor to work, but the risk was too great to give any enemies such an easy target. Even the usually indefatigable Minsc was looking a bit more winded than usual, stacking up a number of vines and brambles around to make the path inside the back that much more difficult. "Paladin Keldorn, you look tired. Minsc can handle the work for a while; take some rest if you wish."

"Thank you, but I will be fine." Keldorn said, though he nodded gratefully as Minsc tossed him a waterskin. Drinking a few mouthfuls, he corked it and tossed it back, Minsc setting it by the rest of their gear, excluding their swords, which were both still strapped to their sides. "Do you think it will be enough?"

"Evil will have a hard time coming through here." Minsc declared, looking at their makeshift barricade with satisfaction. "But it will be even harder to find Mary... Minsc fears for her."

"I am afraid for the girl as well." Keldorn sighed. "Still, I do not think she will be harmed; my senses tell me Firkraag has not finished toying with us yet. He will keep her alive for a time... at least until Garren has suffered enough to make an attempt to reclaim her."

"Where do you think he will be keeping her?" Minsc asked, stacking another few boards and logs. "Minsc is a large man, but this land is even larger. Even the mighty Boo could not search all of this land by himself."

"We will have to let faith guide us." Keldorn smiled sadly. "As a ranger, did you never devote yourself to the goddess Mielikki?"

"No... but it crossed Minsc's mind on occasion." he said thoughtfully. "She was not known much in my homeland... and when I had come here, I already had the mighty Boo and his wisdom to guide me and thus had no reason to become a follower. However, when my tribe in Rashemen needed guidance in anything, we would hold many festivals. Some were to bring good fortune on our battles and hunts; many songs of battle and war would echo from villages near and far! But if we had ever lost something that needed greatly to be found, there was a song we would sing to aid our search. Minsc has not sung this in many years... but perhaps now might be a good time. Boo and I would teach you if you care to join in, even though you are not a Rashemani."

"Many thanks, but I will be content with a prayer to both Torm and Helm. But do not let that stop you, my friend. Please, go on... I will listen as I pray."

Jaheira had been nestled in a chair by Greywulf's body, trying to center herself as she sought the balance that eluded her so often these days. Her breaths were deep and slow, letting her troubles dissipate as she exhaled... until a low tone, pleasant and surprisingly familiar began echoing through to her with strange and unfamiliar words. She frowned, quite unable to concentrate. The sound grew stronger back towards the hole Keldorn and Minsc hand been plugging and covering, and so she went out the front and circled around toward the back, stopping with a brief smile as she turned the corner. Minsc was sitting on the stump of a tree they had chopped down to make the barricade, his eyes closed as he sang, his deep baritone conveying so much emotion as the words of his homeland's tribe flowed through the air. Keldorn was kneeling by the stump as well, his head bowed in prayer as the ranger sang beside him, the two warriors each looking for guidance in their own ways; separate and yet so alike in passion and belief.

It had been some time since she had truly taken the time to pray to Silvanus; there had been so much to do and so little time. Not that she didn't whisper small prayers up every now and then, but taking the time to sit and commune in peace and balance with the deity... it had been more than a few months. Taking another look at the ranger and paladin... now was as good a time as any. Jaheira walked quietly over to another stump nearby and sat, content to listen and pray. For the next hour, none of the three moved, three constants: nature's peace, faith and pious devotion, and the gentle tones of a ranger's voice all echoed through the clearing, audible or not, and for all intents and purposes were all that existed.

Hobbling over to the barricaded hole in the back of the house, Greywulf, supported by Yoshimo and Aerie, stood there, watching through the small slits still uncovered. All three could not help but smile as those outside continued their prayers and song; they did not disturb or intrude on the three of them. With the help of the elven mage and the bounty hunter, Greywulf went back outside to the front of the house and await Garren Windspear's arrival.

X X X X X X X

"You cannot expect me to stay here... move aside, now!"

Garren Windspear's body was trembling, no doubt a veritable flood of emotions rushing through his body even as he delivered his command to the group, impeding his path from the inside of the cabin. He had arrived a few hours later, and as expected, was more than a little distraught over the events that had transpired. Still, his wrath was not directed at them; he knew who his true enemy was in this matter. But he refused to stay at the cabin and await their word and action in returning Mary to his side. Taking up his bow and blade as soon as the entirety of the battle had been related to him, he was ready to head after Firkraag now.

"Garren... we understand your concern for Mary. You have my word we will do everything in our power to bring her back to you." Keldorn said firmly. "It will be extremely dangerous; more so if Firkraag thinks you'll be among our number. You have to ensure Mary has someone to come home to."

"Keldorn, I will not wait here like some coward; I refuse to live the rest of my life under this monster's heel!" Windspear growled defiantly. "I will face this madman head-on, something I should have done years ago! Now I will follow you or strike out on my own; make your decision."

Keldorn sighed deeply; the man was resolute, there was little chance of changing his course, especially when he was so emotionally tied to the battles at hand. In truth, Keldorn would much rather have him stay at the cabin... but then again, if Firkraag sent another scout of orcs to the cabin while hey were going after Mary, they could not protect Garren then either. He glanced over at Greywulf, the young man nodding, albeit reluctantly. The paladin turned back to Windspear, "All right... Jaheira will cast some spells to restore your energy; you must be tired after the ride you had in returning to us."

Windspear nodded, the fire in his eyes lessening a bit, Jaheira walking over to him and murmuring a few chants, his body slowly renewing itself and filling with energy. He nodded to the druid in thanks, the group heading out and leaving the cabin behind as they made their way as quickly and quietly as possible toward the Windspear Castle. "I did speak with the Order though, while I was gone. They believed our tale; as you anticipated, the word of the deaths of the knights had already made it to the Order House, undoubtedly spread by Firkraag's messengers. They did lay down one condition... the real murderer must pay for the blood he has spilt."

"He will, Garren." Keldorn laid one hand on the man's shoulder as they kept moving, a grim yet determined smile on his face. "He will, and we will rescue Mary."

Their path was undeterred as they continued on to the Castle grounds; either Firkraag's men were searching elsewhere or their stealth skills were too much for the orcs, but nothing found them as they finally reached the front gate again. Garren stepped forward, taking in the darkened hall beyond the crumbling gate. His eyes narrowed as he looked over the giant chasm that prevented most entrance past the first few feet in, the stone that had formed the base of the Castle burned and dug away into a hole that was far too deep to see the bottom of. "Is there another way past? A back entrance perhaps?" Jaheira asked.

"There was a secret entrance near the southwest of the castle, dug into the foundation." Garren noted with a frown. "It is no use though... I tried to use it years ago, hoping to make my way to Firkraag myself. It had been sealed, covered over boulders and rocks far too large for me to move. He must have had his ogres perform the task... though the size of the blockade makes me wonder if he did not have even more powerful creatures at his disposal then. He would only have gained power in these years..."

"Then we will be extra careful." Greywulf smiled, leaning forward and pointing at the chasm. "Look... along the sides of the hole. There are some blocks still attached to the main wall... maybe enough that we can slide across the wall and make it across and into the castle."

Sure enough, the chasm did not extend fully from side to side, it stopped a foot or so away from each side, leaving the barest stone blocks still connected to the wall by their mortar, some earth underside perhaps lending a bit more strength. Still, moss and vines crept along the old walkway, bits and pieces of the edges already crumbled away and vanished over the years. It wasn't going to be an easy path, that was sure enough... and definitely not the safest one either.

"It doesn't look very sturdy." Aerie said with hesitation. "Are you sure?"

"No, but for lack of a better plan..." Greywulf shrugged, looking at Windspear for his opinion. Garren nodded, "I know of no other entrance other than this... we will do what we must."

Aerie went first, her small frame more easily navigating the small walkway, hugging the wall closely as she gingerly stepped across the pathway. It was not quite as long as the other side of the chasm and she was across in a few minutes. Still, she breathed a deep sigh of relief once she was no longer supported by the wavering stone. "Aerie? What do you think? You're one thing, but will it hold someone like Minsc?"

Aerie weighed the question, trying to decide... her eyes opened wide as she saw something else approaching behind the six on the other side. She barely had time to shout and fling a bullet from her sling before the snarls and growls of a number of trolls roared past them, three of the monstrous beasts charging them. The closest one, it's mouth coming down toward Greywulf's surprised head was hit by the bullet Aerie had launched, knocking it back for a second, snorting angrily. It was enough time though, for Minsc to draw Stonefire and swing hard, decapitating it with a burst of flame that ended the troll's threat for good. The two other brutes were not deterred though, one taking a swipe at Garren Windspear that only a quick upswing from Keldorn's blade stopped. The troll stepped back, clutching the stub of an arm it still had, the flesh already beginning to gel and form as it regenerated.

"Go, now!" Keldorn roared as Yoshimo leapt from stone to stone deftly, his balance enough that he did not waver once before reaching the other side with Aerie, the elf-cleric casting spells of protection even as a number of orcs and goblins began following the trolls, moving in on the adventurers on the other side. Keldorn swung the Hallowed Redeemer into the third troll's gut, slowing it long enough for Greywulf's spells to consume it with acid and fire. Minsc had stepped up to finish off the other troll, barely moving out of the way from an orc sword that signaled the arrival of the monstrous reinforcements. Keldorn glanced at Jaheira who was taking her turn across the stone, grunting as she made her way as quickly and safely as possible, her foot heading toward the last stone before safety-

It crumbled away, sending the druid into a fall towards the chasm below, Jaheira's hand shooting out to grab something, anything to halt her free-fall. Yoshimo's hand darted out, snagging her wrist as the thief grunted, pulling Jaheira up from the chasm. She gave him a quick nod of thanks before he drew his bow, shooting past the four still on the other side. Greywulf stepped back, raising a shimmering wall of magic to impede the progress of the creatures, wincing as the pounding on the wall increased. "Keldorn!"

The paladin took a running start and leapt from block to block, the weight of his armor sending numerous pieces of stone hurtling downward, barely making it across without falling. His hands clutched his knees, supporting him as he looked up with heavy breath. "Get over here, quickly!"

Minsc nodded, grabbing Garren Windspear in one arm and Greywulf in the other, preparing to take a running start to leap to the first of the sturdy patches as Keldorn had done. His big strides took him to the brink in seconds, preparing to leap-

A rumble from somewhere below shook the entire area, like the sound of some monstrous roar emitted by a creature of gigantic size. Whatever caused it, it was enough to shake the area, the floor... and Minsc. A key stone he was about to launch from tumbled down, Minsc's footing taking him straight into the brink and into the chasm below, taking Garren and Greywulf with him. The others shouted in alarm, Yoshimo deftly throwing the rope and grapnel from his belt toward the ranger for one of his two passengers to catch. The grapnel's hooks were just within reach of Windspear's hands; he grabbed them with all the desperation of a man whose life was flashing before his eyes. Yoshimo jolted forward as soon as the rope went snug, almost tumbling in with them if not for Keldorn, Jaheira, and Aerie's efforts in grabbing the thief and holding him back.

Even as the four above attempted to pull up the three below, Aerie looked over at the monsters on the other side, her face brightening with hope. "The orcs... they're fleeing!"

Strangely enough, the orcs and goblins on the other side of the wall were indeed turning away, though it was not as though they were defeated... more so that they had been ordered as such. The brief rumble, originating from deep below a few seconds ago...

Greywulf released his shielding with a sigh of relief, smiling at Minsc as they were brought closer to their rescue... none of them noticing the edge of the rocky chasm they were pulling them out of rubbing sharply against the rope with each pull of the rope. It split, the rope abruptly jolting as it began to come apart, Minsc looking up at it in alarm as Garren held on, basically supporting the three of them as Keldorn and the others lost a precious few feet of ground in surprise.

"He can't hold us much longer!" Greywulf called up, Garren's arms trembling with the strain as the rope continued to unravel, the three only feet away from the top, but still an eternity away.

Minsc glanced up at the rope, knowing that whether by Garren's exhaustion or the rope's failure, all three of them could not make it up. He looked at Greywulf with a knowing resignation; Greywulf knew what he was thinking and nodded, bracing himself. With a mighty bellow, Minsc kicked off the chasm wall the three were being pulled up alongside, giving the three pullers better leverage... and then let go of Garren. Keldorn and the others fell backward in surprise, yanking Garren Windspear up and to safety, as Minsc and Greywulf plummeted into the depths below, out of sight within seconds.


	37. Part 2: Guy Talk

_Author's Note: Okay then; a big apology to anybody who happened to read this chapter within the first oh... fifteen minutes of posting. Late nights with lots of studying and homework make a poor error-checker, and there were some **whoppers** when I posted it initially. After reading it again, I caught them and did some fixing amidst head pounding against the desk, so if you read it and ran across some very blatant errors, they should be fixed now. Once again, my sincere apologies._

Abyss... a never-ending void of space, forever yearning to be filled and yet always hungering for more. This chasm, this gaping void that lay in the very center of the once grand and majestic Windspear Hall had just seen fit to swallow two more in an attempt to fill its ravenous maw. Tempting fate by offering another two might have seemed foolhardy, but the speed and exact same decision of the two women nearby to rush to the edge, looking over in horror and searching for some sign of the fallen was uncanny. "Minsc!!"

Aerie's cry echoed and reverberated down through the endless hole and back up to them, Jaheira's own cry of helplessness going out with it. Seemingly driven from her own daze by the sound of their two voices sweeping down the abyss, Jaheira shook her head and, though unable to keep the similar tones of worry from her own voice, she quickly drew back and turned to Garren, who was still in shock at his own rescue from such a fate. "What is the lowest level of this castle? Where does it lead?!"

"The dungeon... it is as far down as my castle ever went. But this hole... it goes far deeper than I ever dug in my own rule. Surely it will not reach the bottom-" he said, shaking his head with a hollow tone to his voice.

"But perhaps there is a way to access it from there. If Firkraag has been 'improving' your castle below while leaving the topside to rot, then it is a logical first step." Keldorn nodded, seeing Jaheira's logic. "We should head there immediately and see if we can find where Minsc and Greywulf may have landed. They may yet be alive."

Garren nodded as the others began to follow him swiftly, Aerie still showing signs of shock and grief as she stumbled along beside them. She suddenly felt a hand of comfort land on her shoulder... she looked up to see the last face she'd expected. Jaheira met her gaze and gave her a tight smile. "Don't worry... Greywulf and Minsc are two of the most capable men I have ever met. If anyone can survive, it will be those two."

Aerie nodded, visibly trying to calm herself and focus on the task at hand. Jaheira noted it with a hint of satisfaction... and inwardly, did the exact same thing as Aerie. She could not let the fear she felt inside overwhelm her, especially not in front of the girl... she had to be strong. For Greywulf, Minsc, and Aerie. Even as the five men and women tried to navigate through the old ruins of brick and stone, the chasm they had left behind still echoed just faintly with the cry Aerie had put forth into it. It bounced back and forth across stone and dirt and outcroppings of rock, descending much faster than would have been expected. Sooner or later, it would reach the pair that was hurtling downwards, the two men still falling uncontrollably through the dark and the cold. Tumbling head over heels as the wind rushed through his hearing, Greywulf's world was a jumble of colors and rocks; the only constant was the blurred shape beside him and the tight grip he held onto Minsc's wrist, desperately hoping to keep from being separated in their free-fall. It was going to be near impossible to slow themselves; even if they could, what would they land on to rest? There were levitation spells to be sure, but the magical demand they placed with each second of use was so much, he would only be able to manage it for a few seconds, certainly not with two people depending on his already divided concentration.

The further they went, the more apparent it became to Greywulf... his magics were useless. Magical snares and grabs, trying to catch on the various rocks embedded in the walls? The magics broke as soon as they solidified. Magical forces pushing downward in an attempt to equalize the force of gravity? Possible, if they were only falling thirty or forty feet. Most of the time, he would use magic to prevent getting into this situation, not getting out of it. The only possible salvation for them lie in brute strength... but Minsc did not seem to have any idea how to use it. That or he was unwilling to; perhaps the ranger had resigned himself to the fate beneath them; knowing they had done all they could. Garren had been saved at least... that was true enough. In the end, what more could they do? Greywulf fought a slowly growing urge to relax, to finally take a rest from his labors. Surely he and Minsc had both earned it-

The slightest noise pushed through the wind swept rush plaguing their hearing. Two faint but familiar cries reached them, the tones of Aerie and Jaheira somehow finding them and piercing their ears. The urgency and helplessness in the voices was like someone grabbing Greywulf and smacking him in the face. Any thoughts he might have been entertaining about finally giving up were banished; he strengthened his hold on Minsc and tried to catch his gaze in their falling world, staring at him as he so desperately tried to get Minsc to realize what he was thinking. The art of magically communicating thought was not one Greywulf had ever been good at; give enough time and spell ingredients he was capable, but on such short notice with everything still spinning in mid-air, there was no chance. Just trying to get the air into his lungs was proving a struggle- _Come on!! We have to survive this! You heard them too; there are two women up there depending on us! We don't have the luxury of giving up!! Damn it Minsc, only you can save us right now!! Minsc!!!_

As if hearing his very thoughts, a fierce cry echoed back from the ranger's mouth, his broad arms reaching behind him as they continued somersaulting downwards. Greywulf squinted through the rapidly darkening void as Minsc's free hand gripped the handle of Stonefire, yanking it forward. He slashed it outward, striking the rock and dirt wall they were beside. Even as it bounced off the wall, Minsc tried again-

An outcropping slammed into the two of them, shattering as they hit and sending Greywulf flying from Minsc's side. The pain was there but pushed away as their situation worsened. Greywulf felt something wet at his side; he couldn't see in the dark, but he had a strong suspicion he would need healing if they survived this. Still, Minsc reached out, trying to find Greywulf again in the darkness; Greywulf could faintly see the man's outline through his infravision; Minsc would not have the same luxury. The two had been knocked just a bit too far away to reconnect so easily; Greywulf tried to twist his body in midair as they continued to fall, reaching out magically to push himself towards the ranger... just enough. The wave rebounded off the opposite wall and nudged him toward the big man. His free hand clutched Minsc's shoulder and moved to solidify the grip as he wrapped his arm around his waist while the ranger tried his move again, this time bringing both axes into the wall. Showers of red and blue sparks rained from the impact of the axes as they tried to sink into the rock and dirt, powered by magic and the brute strength of the berserker Rashemaar. Any other axes would have been twisted beyond recognition in the first few seconds of the attempt, but the magical steel of the weapons proved more than up to the task.

Frostreaver and Stonefire continued to bounce off and around as Minsc applied more and more pressure to them, nearly losing his grip as they cut into the rock, leaving nicks and gashes that glimmered with red and blue, frost and fire; the axes jolted here and there but never quite found solid cutting material to dig into- there. Finding their niches at last, the axes began slicing long, half-foot deep ruts in the wall as they kept moving downward, their descent not stopping yet... but slowing. Oh, they were not anywhere close to stopping yet, but their descent was indeed slowing down. Seconds passed as Minsc's grunts of anger and effort were finally audible amidst the shrieking of the magical steel against rock, Greywulf finally seeing a sliver of hope that they might survive this. Given enough time, it was feasible they would have slowed to a halt. Given another hundred feet of cavern wall or another ten seconds and they would have been dead still, supported by Minsc's trembling and exhausted arms, but at the very least able to come up with some plan to either make their way back up or descend in a controlled fashion.

However... they didn't have another ten seconds. Only five of those precious increments of time remained... and then it was over. There was no more wall for the axes to dig into; it abruptly ended into an open cavern clearing below, the axes digging straight down and sending them into freefall once more. Minsc twisted around to try and see what was below them... only to see the ground rush up to meet them both.

X X X X X X X X

"I... I'm sorry, Aerie."

Aerie looked up from her stare towards the ratty carpet she had been maintaining since leaving the main hall and descending through the bowels of Castle Windspear toward the dungeon that Garren had informed them of. The shock of seeing both Minsc and Greywulf, whom she had considered and heard the others refer to as well, the heart and soul of the group, respectively, was almost too much for her to bear. Still, her surprised gaze met Garren Windspear's troubled face, a look of guilt and pain in his face. "Garren? Why are you-"

"I can see you were close to the sorcerer and ranger; it... it is my fault, truly. If not for my stubborn pride and refusal to stay at the cabin, your friends would not be in this danger now."

"You have nothing to apologize for, Garren." Aerie said, swallowing as the thought of the two men ran through her mind again. "You couldn't have just stayed home... your daughter is in danger. I do not blame you; none of us do."

"Truly, there is only one to blame for this tragedy." Yoshimo noted, slowing his pace just enough to join the two in conversation. "Perhaps when this is over we will all have received some manner of well-deserved payback."

At the front, Keldorn's eyes shut tight, his mouth tight as he fought back a shudder of anger. _Maria's body, cold and lifeless... Keldorn picked her up gently, unwrapping the silk from her neck which had so violently ended her life. The tears still flowed down his face as he cradled her and held her body close- a small piece of parchment slipped from her gown, fluttering to the floor. Keldorn noticed; setting his wife down carefully, he bent to pick up the small note. As he read it, his eyes narrowed... his hand convulsed, crushing the note with a righteous fury like nothing he had ever felt before burning in the paladin's eyes. He picked her up again and descended the stairway, letting the note flutter to the floor as Keldorn moved to report the deaths of his family. The note partially unfolded as it finally touched the ground... dark red blood had been smeared on the parchment, writing a message. **HAPPY ANNIVERSARY**_. As much as he wanted to hate Firkraag... it could not be about vengeance. It could not be about revenge, if even for the murder of his wife and children. His anger could not be allowed to grow... it had to be quenched, turned into something manageable, something that a paladin could use. Justice, not vengeance. That's what it had to be. If anything else... he could not allow it. Keldorn breathed deeply as he tried to center himself-

"Keldorn? We have reached the cellar doors. Garren said they should lead to the dungeon." Keldorn's head jerked up, nodding to Jaheira who was watching him with a frown. "Keldorn, are you well?"

"I will be fine... please, lead on. I shall watch the rear for some time." He said, bowing to let her pass as he slipped to the end of the line. Jaheira did not hesitate but kept them moving, despite the fear and doubt that plagued her steps. Losing Minsc and Greywulf... it was not a prospect she ever wanted to think about much less face, and here she was, clinging to the slim, some might say unreasonable hope the two of them could have survived the fall she had seen them undergo. It was eerily similar to a situation she had faced with Khalid during their years before marrying; an investigation had taken a sour turn, and Khalid had disappeared into a chasm while chasing their foes through a system of caves that appeared to spell his end. Many there had written him off, given up hope right away, but Jaheira refused to admit defeat so quickly. She had searched and searched, with and without the support of her teammates, and in the end they had found him. Bruised and battered, but alive. Without her unflagging hope he would have been lost; still, it was one of the first moments she had realized how much she really loved him.

The rest of her Harper squad had been relieved... the Harper squad... she felt a grimace spread across her face at the thought of her kin. Too many things nowadays reminded her of the betrayal at the Harper Hold. Galvarey was powerful; he had many connections in the organization. Despite her messages, she was certain the events would be told from the favor of the dead traitor. One of the few remaining things that gave her strength was the fact that she was not alone in this; that she had those close to her to fight and stand by her side even as she did the same for them. Minsc and Greywulf... the fear of losing them ran through her again. She swallowed the emotion that threatened to overwhelm her, and with a determined shake of the head, set off down the stairway, dimly lit by torches and fading lanterns.

Aerie's magic quickly proved to be the only light in the dim staircase, keeping them from tumbling to their doom on the treacherous walk. Crumbling stairs and moss and slime made the path slick, a difficult journey even in full light. After endless walking, the stair began to level off and open from a narrow portal downwards into a large underground cavern. They were still inside the formal castle, as was evidenced by the large amount of torches and royal insignias mounted upon the wall, but like every other place, the sign of orc and goblin destruction was rampant.

They had not gone much further before Jaheira motioned for Aerie to dim her lights, hoping to avoid attention from any creatures of the darkness. Luck was not to be had though, for not more than a dozen steps had been taken before a sharp growling was heard echoing down the hall; the feral panting of a beast made little question as to what creatures lurked in the shadows before them. Unable to see the threat completely, Aerie brought her arm in a full circle, sounding incantations as she did. A flash went out, igniting all the torches upon the walls with blue flame. With the new illumination, the group saw their approaching attackers; two wolfweres growled at their prey, leaping out as their advantage of stealth was taken away.

Keldorn stepped up immediately to the first of the leaping creatures, immediately bringing the Hallowed Redeemer across his body to defend. It batted the wolfwere aside, though damage was negligible. Yoshimo had already backed up and drawn his bow, launching an arrow into the shoulder of the second wolfwere. It jolted its charge a bit, but the beast shrugged it off and launched itself anyway. Jaheira seemed to blur in from nowhere with her spear, sticking it into the hide of the beast from the side as she knocked it completely off course, rolling away from the relieved bounty hunter as he quickly switched weapons to his katanas.

The battle raged hard and fierce, the regenerative capabilities of the beasts making them unusually tough opponents, even more so than trolls. A difficult balance was struck, dodging between striking the beasts quickly enough to hurt them and evading the claws and teeth of the Wolfweres was no easy task. Aerie's magics were mostly ineffective against them, so she switched to a supporting role, blessing her allies and keeping them filled with vigor and strength. As the two beasts continued their mad frenzy, Aerie backed up slightly and pointed at the group, uttering a few arcane words. A whirlwind seemed to engulf each of the party members, hastening their actions to superhuman heights. With this new advantage, they went about their task swiftly; with a mighty shout from the former Lord of the Windspear Hills, Garren's blade flew downwards and cut off the head of one of the Wolfweres as it made a desperate leap at Aerie.

"Do not let it escape; perhaps it will lead us to the lower levels!" Keldorn barked as they flew after the wounded and fleeing wolfwere, slowly continuing downwards, further and further into the depths of the Castle and the dangers that lay below.

X X X X X X X

Pain... it was less a question of what hurt, more of what didn't hurt. There was only slight comfort to get in the fact that feeling the pain in his legs was better than not feeling them at all. Greywulf's world was spinning; despite the fact his eyes were still clenched shut. He had preferred unconsciousness; at least he hadn't been able to endure such agony then. He tried to inhale, almost immediately clenching in pain. The ribs he had injured in battle with Gaal had more than likely been rebroken; Jaheira would not be happy at having to repeat her healings.

How far had they fallen, Minsc and himself? He could barely remember the whole event; they had come close to stopping, he remembered that. Now, he felt lucky just to be alive. Trying to focus enough to open his eyes, he finally pried them open, the blurry surroundings not much better than before. Craning his head to the side, he could make out a large human sized shape beside him, crumpled over on the ground. A small squeak reached his ears; squinting hard enough he could make out a small furry shape skittering back and forth on the top of the unconscious ranger. Greywulf smiled through cracked lips; perhaps Boo was more than a regular hamster after all.

He tried to roll over, to give himself some measure of leverage for standing, but a sharp jolt of pain hit his shoulder almost immediately. Trying to turn his eyes enough to see, he fought back a wave of sickness that threatened him at the sight. A small yet jagged stalagmite, grown out of the cavern floor, was impaling his right shoulder at the moment, the bloodied tip protruding through the flesh and meat and bone at the shoulder joint. He managed a bitter smile; he should consider himself lucky; a foot to the right and it would have struck his head. A sudden flash of memory hit him to when they were plummeting downward; a sticky wet feeling at his side. He groaned, stopping immediately for pain, then ran one hand down there, frowning as he felt a few pieces of broken edges and glass. Realization hit him as he simultaneously breathed a sigh of relief and a curse.

Managing to crane his head just enough to look, sure enough, there was no dramatic injury there, only a soreness that spoke to one hell of a bruise. However, the three healing potions he kept on his belt were smashed and spent, shattered when he had collided with the rock outcropping on the way down. _Fantastic... I'm all but unconscious, Minsc still is, my healing potions are gone, and neither of us are healers. Chances of survival are looking pretty bad; have to find some way of moving from this position and keeping my shoulder from bleeding out, waking Minsc up and making sure he'll be fit to travel, navigating through a completely unknown and strange cavern that's probably crawling with Firkraag's men, find the rest of the party, and then rescue Garren's daughter. And make it back to the surface alive. Sometimes I hate my life._

A guttural growling noise came from somewhere behind Greywulf, the sorcerer almost immediately freezing as he heard the noise. Staying perfectly still as the adrenaline flooded his weary system, he started analyzing his options. None looked particularly favorable. The distinctive sound of an orc grunting finally made itself known, coming closer without a doubt. Greywulf reached around for the familiar feel of his quarterstaff, but finding it while lying down would be next to impossible if- and a rather large if at that, it had even made it down in one piece. A nasty orcish laugh sounded, and it was rather obvious he had been seen. Greywulf tried to remember the words to his spellcraft, tried to recite some sort of protection or wizardry to keep the two of them alive for a few more seconds, but whether by sheer exhaustion or lack of concentration, the magic fizzled before it had even finished forming in his trembling hands.

As if emboldened by the sight, the footsteps of the orc behind him sounded faster, obviously hurrying to claim his share of the spoil before his fellows arrived, Greywulf thought bitterly. The thuds grew closer and closer- a blur to the left of Greywulf drew his attention as the footsteps abruptly halted, replaced with a gurgling noise that Greywulf had heard a number of times before, usually when someone had a blade or some similar weapon embedded in their stomach. Craning his head, he sighed in disbelief as he saw Minsc on his side, his massive arm holding the Sword of Chaos in the approaching orcs' stomach. The orc blade was upraised as it looked down in disbelief, crumpling over as Minsc yanked the blade out, sinking back to the ground with a quick smile at Greywulf.

"You had me worried there for a moment." Greywulf managed, trying to keep the familiar humor in his voice as they lay together. "Thought our luck had just about run out."

"Boo has enough luck for both of us... but right now Minsc would like some healing." the ranger tossed back, bringing a smile to both their faces in such a dark place. "Can you move?"

"Not very well; let's just say that my shoulder's shot, and unless I get some healing soon, the rest of me will be too. You?"

"Minsc does... does not think his leg should bend this way." Greywulf glanced down at Minsc's left leg and winced; the joint at the knee was obviously pushed way out of its normal line of movement, and judging from the rest of the lower leg, there were several fractures running along the bone there as well. He must have landed on it when they reached bottom; still, if not for Minsc's efforts with the two axes, they'd both be dead right now. "I suppose either of us going for help is out of the question then."

Minsc nodded with a grimace, dropping his grip on the sword he carried for a moment as he rested himself on one arm. "Do not fear, Greywulf. Keldorn and Jaheira and Aerie and Yoshimo will find us, and we will all be reunited once more!"

"Good to see you haven't lost hope... I wish I had your kind of confidence." Greywulf smiled wearily, trying desperately not to move his shoulder. "I don't suppose the healing potions on your belt survived the trip..."

Minsc did a surprisingly good job of not showing pain as he tried to sit up and look at his belt, but could not stifle an intense grimace as his leg twitched a hair. Unsurprisingly, the potions on his belt were crushed as well. "That's all right..." Greywulf shook his head when Minsc noted the lack thereof. "We'll make do. Like you say, I'm sure Jaheira will find us soon and lecture us on the virtues of learning how to jump. In a little while we'll all be wishing we were back here on the ground rather than listening to her yell at us."

The joke was half-hearted and rather contrived, but Minsc smiled nonetheless. The two of them laid there in silence for a while, the only sound the dripping of water and their heavy and labored breathing. Greywulf glanced over at Minsc again, trying to get a feel for any other injuries that might need tending too. Miraculously, his armor had prevented much injury to the man's torso or chest, though it would need some major blacksmithing if they got out. There was a rather nasty gash that ran across his bald head, undoubtedly from their mid-air collision with the rocky outcropping. Still, it looked like it the cut had stopped bleeding for now; any exertion and it might start again. "Greywulf? May we ask you a question?"

Minsc's oddly normal sounding question was a bit off, but Greywulf did his best to shrug with one shoulder and replied, "Of course... it's not like either of us are going anywhere."

"Our witch Aerie sounded and looked like she was perhaps... eh, growing fond of you. Not in the way that Minsc is fond of smacking down villains or that Imoen is fond of pulling pranks..."

"I know which way you meant, Minsc." Greywulf chuckled, trying not to cough as his ribs jolted him again. "What about it?"

"Minsc wonders... perhaps this is not his business, and Minsc has often warned Boo on the evils of eavesdropping, but Boo could not help but overhear you and Aerie speaking. He mentioned how you told her that you and she would not go together in the way she hoped you would. As Aerie's protector, we were wondering... why?"

Of all the conversations he had carried out with the big ranger, this was definitely one of the... odder ones. "Well Minsc... if Boo was listening in, he should know why. I'm fairly certain I explained it in-depth."

"Well, Minsc may disagree, but he understands; he wonders if perhaps... if perhaps there is someone else Greywulf is fond of instead." Minsc inquired innocently.

Greywulf rolled his eyes with a grin as he lay there, wondering if the blood loss was making them both dizzy. "I never pegged you as being the gossipy sort, Minsc. When did you become interested in the romantic affairs of the party?"

Minsc did not answer, only shrugged. Finally, Greywulf sighed and answered him. "No... none that I can think of. I'm a hopeless bachelor, Minsc."

The ranger nodded; still, his body language betrayed a question he was still hiding, something he desperately wanted to ask and yet dared not. The sorcerer sighed and said with a hint of amused exasperation, "Minsc, for the love of Helm, just ask whatever it is you want! Surely we've known each other long enough to be comfortable with topics of romance and dating."

"Does our friend Greywulf like our friend Jaheira in that way?"

Dead silence...

More silence...

A pot of silence with a dash of silence thrown in here and there, boiled over a roaring fire of silence.

"Minsc said, 'Does our-"

"I heard you the first time, Minsc." Greywulf replied, though his tone was obviously one of shock and total bewilderment on how to respond.

"Then what is your answer?"

"My- wow. Minsc, I'm really not quite sure what to say to that. You are talking about the same Jaheira I'm thinking of, right? The one who's probably cursing our stupidity even as she worries herself to death about our safety?"

"Yes. Also, Minsc notes, the one who let herself be injured so she could bring you back to life."

"The one who constantly berates me over whether or not my pack is tied up well enough for the day's hike?"

"Yes. And the one who will always take the burden of your pack on herself if you have been injured."

Greywulf frowned, seeing where Minsc was heading with this. "And don't forget, the one who just lost her husband a few months ago?"

Minsc's response was a bit slower this time, and a bit more deliberate. "Yes. And the one who has depended on you through it all for support and comfort. The one who is devoted to you above all else, and would give her own life for."

"She'd give her own life for any of us, Minsc." he responded, but Minsc merely shrugged. "You have not answered our question yet."

Before either could say more, and to Greywulf's relief, before he had to answer the question, a voice broke through the silence, "Minsc! Greywulf!"

Her familiar tones were unmistakable, both Minsc and Greywulf tried to look at where the source was, to see the Avariel elf in the darkness. Slowly, Aerie's form began appearing in the dark before them. "Aerie; you have no idea how glad we are to see you-"

Greywulf was cut off as he saw Aerie fully, a number of swords to her back as she stared at the two men in horror, the other four with her either unconscious and carried by orcs or similarly kept from moving by threat of blade. A hulking form came past Aerie into the light, an ugly sneer on his scarred and monstrous face as he stared at the sorcerer lying on the ground "On the contrary; you have no idea how long I have awaited this day, Bhaalspawn..."

The face flashed through his memory for a moment... then came both recognition and horror. "Tazok."


	38. Part 2: Grudge Match

_The camp was surprisingly normal, especially for one with such a dreaded reputation as this. From the word spread by gossips in the streets, drinkers in the pubs and caravans on the road, this camp was composed of brimstone and ash; fire formed rivers that surrounded it like some perverted moat. The tents were jagged and spiked, dripping with nightshade and hemlock. Those who frequented it were giants among men, monsters in human form who were as bloodthirsty as any orc or demon. Some even went so far as to say that the men and women here were not even human to begin with, but demons who had taken mortal form and were using their power to cause the problems plaguing the Sword Coast._

_Greywulf, despite their precarious situation at the moment, took a brief moment to smile wryly at the sight before them. It was a nice, quiet little forest area, rather pleasant in the cool of the day, actually. The make-up of the camp was fairly laidback, each tent placed so as to give the occupant a good amount of room, but not so far as to appear anti-social. Last of course, were the inhabitants themselves; granted, the bandits still carried something of an unsavory look, but demons they were not. A good thing too... he doubted any of their party looked a fraction as imposing as they would have needed to be to blend in, were the rumors in the taverns true. Well... maybe Minsc might have been okay. _

_The six adventurers walked past a pair of snickering bandits who were discussing the spoils and events of their last raid, the six passerby's trying to act as nonchalantly as possible. It had taken them days of hunting and searching, along with a number of fights that were far too close for any of their comfort, but they had finally located the location of the bandit camp that was plaguing the roads of iron trade near Baldur's Gate. After a long and heated argument about how best to deal with their new information, the group had eventually agreed that secrecy was their best option; a change of clothes for disguises and some creative makeup jobs later, all the casual bandit would see walking by were six gruff, everyday brigands, taking a quick stroll through their top-secret camp. Of course, rubbing away the dirt and grime, putting their original clothes back on, one would see the six adventurers with a price on their heads so high, Greywulf had once contemplated if it might be possible to collect his own bounty. _

_"Your tattoo is showing, Minsc..."_

_A sideways whisper from Imoen got the big ranger to pull a wrapped cloth back over his head further, covering the purple color that had begun to peek out. A veritable sigh of relief echoed through the whole group; nerves were more than a little on edge at the moment. Jaheira looked like one giant bundle of clenched nerves and muscle, Khalid's presence beside her one of the few things keeping her grounded. Dynaheir did the same for Minsc, though Greywulf had yet to see the thing that could break the enigmatic Wychlarian's exterior cool._

_"Greywulf... dost thou see? Over there... the tent we search for."_

_Minsc's witch whispered just loud enough for the others to hear as well, and without everyone turning their heads in an all too obvious manner, they all took a peek at where Dynaheir had pointed; sure enough, the tent of the camp's erstwhile leader was right across the clearing, only a hundred feet away or so. It was the largest and definitely nicest of the bunch, placed atop a wooden deck of sorts and ornamented heavily. Bags of loot and other ill-gotten spoils were scattered across the deck; surely a tempting proposition for Imoen, already trying not to let on how much she was eyeing the gold there. Jaheira didn't miss a thing; a quick elbow to the girl elicited a surprised grunt, returning the druid's glare, she met Khalid's kind but firm shake of the head and sighed, acquiescing silently. _

_The crept towards the tent, trying to stay as much out of sight as possible; a surprisingly difficult task, considering the amount of loot and gear piled up here and there. Greywulf thought briefly of Gorion and his mastery of magic; his father could have conjured a group invisibility spell and taken care of all of this on his own, more likely than not. He, however, was not nearly so skilled; and as good as Dynaheir was, she did not have that spell among her repertoire. Even so, it looked for once like their luck might hold. Nobody had seemed to notice them as they moved, another dozen paces and they'd be there-_

_A booming laugh took all of them by surprise; a deep, throaty bellow that was anything but friendly. The curtain to the opening of the tent they were heading for swung open... revealing the monster of the tavern drunk's stories. The hulking figure stepped out with two other men, towering over both of them. The ugly, scarred face was in a perpetual sneer; the deference everyone he passed by spoke to a temper that matched his facial expression. A giant, two handed sword hung at his side, his armor a mishmash of iron plates, though it looked more protective than some of the best blacksmithing he had ever seen. He descended the wooden deck off of the tent and headed toward the path lading out of the camp, muttering something back and forth to the men flanking him. Greywulf watched him with a chill; the brute was a half-ogre, though he looked quite a bit more imposing than the ones they had fought earlier. The six were mostly out of sight, but if the mammoth turned and looked, there was a good chance he might see them. Still, it looked like luck was going their way-_

_"Oy! Best be getting a move on quick, eh?"_

_The upbeat voice caught all of them by surprise; their group turned to spy a youth, scarcely out of his teens, heading towards the half-ogre. On inspection, it seemed like the whole camp was doing the same. "Oh... er, yes. Just heading over now." Greywulf grunted, trying to lower his voice._

_"Yeah, don't want to be late, y'know? Y' remember what Tazok did to the last fella' who thought he 'as too good to lissen to 'im give out orders." he laughed as they all walked over to join the crowd of bandits surrounding this Tazok._

_"Oh yes... I remember." Greywulf responded as they arrived, staring at the half-ogre before them. As Greywulf's eyes met Tazok's for the briefest of seconds, he decided that whatever incident this brigand was referring to... it was better that he not know the details. _

X X X X X X X X

The memory of the first time the two had met flashed through Greywulf's mind as he stared up at that same face again, that same repugnant sneer as Tazok looked down on the two fallen men. Minsc's hand darted toward the hilt of the sword beside him, but Tazok merely barked a laugh, motioning to the orcs with him. Minsc tried to swing the blade from his position, but it was easy for the orcs to overpower him, his broken leg proving too much of a handicap. Once Minsc was secured, Tazok looked down at Greywulf, still pinned in place by the stalagmite through his shoulder. "You have no idea how long I've waited for this moment, Bhaalspawn. Firkraag promised me a chance at destroying you, but this... this is too perfect."

"I'm feeling all warm and fuzzy too." Greywulf spat, trying to keep the growing pain out of his voice. "You'll excuse me if I don't stand up-"

Tazok bent over and grabbed Greywulf's other arm, yanking him to his feet with the sound of tearing flesh, the wound in his shoulder ripping open even further. Tazok held him up and leaned over to his agonized face, leering at him. "But you will... stand before your betters, fool."

"Stop it! Stop it-" Aerie's cries were silenced by a swift backhand from the half-ogre, snarling as the orcs grabbed her and held her still.

"You always were such a charmer, Tazok..." Greywulf managed, though any further taunts were silenced as Tazok grabbed his wounded shoulder in one massive hand and squeezed, Aerie listening in horror at the half-elf's screams.

"You never did know when to keep your mouth shut, fool." Tazok growled, looking back at Aerie once more. "And you also never learned to keep your women in line. This one here has more sense than the mongrel you still travel with... she put up quite the struggle when we took her."

Greywulf, through his wincing, managed to get a peek at Jaheira; she was barely conscious from the looks of it; despite that, her eyes still held a fire that would have meant death for Tazok and his men were she free and armed. He looked up at Tazok's grinning face as he pushed him forward, leading the group onward down the cavern. "Come, Greywulf... my master desires to see you before I end your miserable existence."

"I might not make it to your master if I don't get... get some healing." Greywulf whispered, the blood draining out of his shoulder making the world spin as Tazok pushed him forward. "What... what would he think of that?"

Tazok's lip curled upward in a sneer... but he pulled a small vial from his belt, the contents of which looked most foul. Uncorking it he poured it on Greywulf's shoulder, the brew searing and stinging like acid, though it did seem to slow the bleeding, even close the gaping wound somewhat. "That will hold you for the few remaining minutes of your life." Tazok growled, apparently using the small healing as an excuse to push Greywulf even harder toward a staircase leading into an even lower darkness. It seemed to last forever; the width of the passage seemed enormous, enough to accommodate a hundred men across the stair as they walked.

Even as Tazok and Greywulf continued down the stair, Aerie found herself pushed alongside the similarly forced Jaheira, the druid stumbling down the rock stairway as Aerie reached out one hand to steady her. Jaheira glanced at her appreciatively, Aerie giving her a tight smile as they continued. Still, the Avariel could not help but shudder as she looked back down the way at the half-ogre, and the hatred on his face every time he pushed Greywulf onward. "Who... who is he? Why does he hate Greywulf so much?"

"Tazok was the leader of the bandit camps that Sarevok used to harass the iron supply in the crisis with Baldur's Gate." Jaheira rasped quietly, trying to avoid attracting any kind of attention from their guards. "He was also one of Sarevok's main lieutenants; he fought us alongside Sarevok in the final battle under Baldur's Gate."

Jaheira flinched just slightly as she remembered Minsc and Khalid's duel with the half-ogre, keeping both of the men of their party at bay as they fought. She shook her head slightly, turning back to Aerie. "He fled the battle as soon as Sarevok died; though he never forgot what was taken from him."

"So he wants revenge on you for killing Sarevok?"

"Partly so, no doubt..." Jaheira allowed herself a half-grimace, half smirk. "But he hates Greywulf for another reason; do you see his face? Those burns and scars weren't always there."

Aerie had no time to reply before they found themselves pushed through a giant archway, passing beyond two large stone statues of beasts that carved into the wall. Beside the arch were two more statues, this time of twin dragons, their eyes sparkling like jewels as they watched the entrance that the group passed through. They found themselves in a large cavern, no ceiling in sight, only empty space leading to an unknown location.

Flat stone stretched before them as they walked, and as they continued their silent path, something grew visible in the distance, what appeared to be a large door, rings to open it as big as a regular sized human. Before it sat a throne of pure ruby, shimmering as they approached. When they got close enough, they saw the man they had met earlier, Jierdan Firkraag, sitting upon the throne lazily, a wicked look in his eyes. Beside him was a man in mage robes, a quarterstaff of his own at the ready, waiting at Firkraag's right hand. As they neared, Firkraag began clapping slowly, very lazily and loudly. "Well done." Firkraag said with a smirk. "I had my doubts as to whether you would actually make it here, but you have exceeded my expectations. Congratulations are in order. Especially for you, old Keldorn. It has been so long since we fought, I half-expected you to be dead or retired by now. Tell me, how are the wife and kids? I trust life has treated them well?"

Keldorn's face flashed with anger for a brief second, then returned to his paladin calm, saying nothing, only squeezing his fist tighter. The orcs holding him must have sensed his contained fury; they raised their swords higher in case of some attempt on his part to make an escape. Firkraag laughed again, saying, "So, you do remember me. But like a good little paladin, you can't do the thing your heart most desires. But I am here now. Go on. Take your revenge... surely you are faster than my pathetic band of orcs here, hmm?"

"I desire justice, not revenge. And you will pay for your crimes, in this life or the next." Keldorn said, his voice straining to keep controlled.

"You're no fun at all, Keldorn." Firkraag yawned. "Perhaps a short battle would awaken that old fire within you I remember so well. Guards... release them."

Tazok glanced at Firkraag, his eyes darting back and forth for a second before drawing his own blade and walking back a few paces, then motioning for the guards to do the same after they had released the bound ones from their ropes. Aerie and Yoshimo both knelt beside Minsc, the elf murmuring spells to alleviate the pain in the ranger's leg, trying to heal the worst of the damage. Greywulf glanced at the others with definite gratitude, and then frowned as he counted heads. "Where's Garren?" he growled, turning back to Firkraag, still flanked by his orcs. "What have you done with him?"

"Hmm... so curious, aren't you." Jierdan said bemusedly, leaning back again on his throne. "Survive the next few minutes and I might tell you."

Without a word, the orcs screeched and leapt forward, taking the group by surprise. The heavily wounded party would normally have found the battle no problem, but in their current condition, Minsc almost completely incapacitated as far as fighting went, it was all they could do to hold their own, even as Tazok and the unnamed wizard stood on Firkraag's left and right, watching intently but not joining the fray. Greywulf stumbled back as an orc took another swing at him, the sorcerer weaponless and forced to dodge all the attacks headed his way. Another swing nearly took his head off; Greywulf came up with a hastily conjured spell, sending a flurry of Magic Missiles into the orcs' chest. The orc fell backward, Minsc close enough to swing his sword even from his position on the ground.

The sorcerer exhaled deeply, ignoring the sharp pains in his shoulder as he looked at the others; fighting their hearts out, but invariably losing. Too many orcs, their own bodies too weakened to continue. He did have one more spell he could use... though it would leave him with little or no magic left. Watching Keldorn nearly lose his head from an orc sword made up his mind. Greywulf inhaled deeply, drudged up the last remnants of his own magic... and channeled it through his voice, speaking a Word of Power. It echoed through the room, the magic forcing its way down upon all those nearby, sorting friend from foe; a wave billowed out, crushing the orcs and heading right towards Firkraag and his two men, Tazok and the wizard looked afraid as Firkraag sat up with interest, raising one hand and deflecting the energy heading towards them.

The dust cleared, the cavern echo finally ceased, leaving the six adventurers and the three villains before them the only ones left alive. Greywulf wavered on his feet for a few moments, and then fell backwards, only caught in time by Yoshimo, supporting him as the nearly broken wizard tried to stay up. Firkraag laughed, a terrible sound as he stood from his throne, nodding in triumph. "So you pull victory from defeat once again. I was beginning to think I had finally found a way to end you, but once more you surprise me, Greywulf. You have proven such an interesting experiment; no doubt you have earned your answers as well. Lower your weapons; you shan't need them any longer."

"If you think we'll disarm now then you're a fool." Jaheira snarled. "You deserve death for what you've done here, monster."

"Monster? Is that what you think of me?" Firkraag said in mock surprise. "Perhaps you have not seen who I truly am... perhaps we shall see what _a monster** truly is."**_

A flash of light, red shone all around, enveloping their vision as it surrounded Jierdan Firkraag, the only sound his mocking laughter as it grew deeper, darker... monstrous. Their vision cleared, and what stood before them... it was Jierdan Firkraag, as he truly had been all along.

"By the gods." Keldorn whispered, scarcely believing the sight before him.

Firkraag was no longer the tall noble, wicked looking though he had been; he was now a fearsome sight to behold. Firkraag's skin had turned from ordinary flesh to a scaly red. His eyes had abruptly changed from their human vision to thick reptilian shards of malice, and the robes he wore began shredding, becoming rags as Firkraag's body grew in size before them, till his height dwarfed theirs by more than five times. His ears grew pointed and slid back behind his head, and his mouth and nose stretched forward into a fearsome looking snout, smoke gushing from the nostrils. A long spiked tail was growing longer by the second, and two wings were now billowing out before them, long scaled things with great red and black spikes coming from the ends. With a final unearthly roar, the transformation was complete, and before them stood no human, but the most feared of the dark wyrms, the red dragon. "Ahh…" Firkraag stretched his wings long and broad, arching his long neck back as he did. "I have not been able to fully enjoy my true form for a while, waiting for your arrival as such."

"A red dragon…" Greywulf whispered, hoping his eyes were deceiving him.

"Yes. Perhaps I do not seem so foolish now, Jaheira?"

Yoshimo visibly gulped, wary of the wrath of the dragon before them. "Er, I'm sure her meaning was misunderstood, Lord Firkraag."

"Misunderstood or not, I do not take kindly to insults." Firkraag leaned his long neck down and brought those monstrous jaws close to Jaheira, a tinge of smoke wisping out of his nostrils. The tension in the cavern was unbearable, everyone sure they were about to witness the death of one of their comrades, with nothing they could do about it. Seconds passed... and without warning, Firkraag pulled back, resting on his hind legs with as much nonchalance as a mighty dragon could seem to manage. "Or not. You have been more than entertaining, all of you, and I did promise you an explanation, did I not? Why the hunt, why the deception... I hope you've found it as much fun as I."

"If you are trying to remember some event in the past where you might have committed some offense against me, it is non-existent. We two have no history; at least, between the two of us. Your father though... he was another story."

"Gorion?" Greywulf questioned, his head spinning in confusion and fear. "What does he have to do with this?"

Firkraag sighed, quite the interesting sight for such a grand beast. "Very well... an in-depth explanation. Your wizard tutor was not only a member of the Harpers when I first met him, but a member of the group that shut down some of my largest operations in Amn, back when I still had my own games and ambitions in the city. A group your Keldorn was also with as well. Of course, I'm sure Keldorn remembers what revenge I took upon him for his participation in that act."

Keldorn refused to let his emotions show this time, but merely glared heavily, refusing to respond.

"Gorion once told me of a mission he and a group of Harpers and paladins undertook." Jaheira glanced at Greywulf, her mind churning with the memory. "The paladins were withdrawn after the main group was captured, but Gorion and the Harpers continued on after the leader. They never found him, but they did encounter a rather large red dragon soon after... they wounded it, driving it off."

Firkraag smirked with his dragon smile of scorn and malice. "I still bear the scars of that meeting. Your Gorion was a powerful mage... but even he could not bring down a dragon such as I. It was a paltry thing, really; I had no true interest in the goods or servants lost in Amn... but you father nearly killed me that day."

"So this was all about revenge? For a slight my foster father did you years ago?" Greywulf rasped.

"Well… yes. Make no mistake though; I was interested in not only your father Gorion, but your… other father, as well. Don't look so surprised, Bhaalspawn. I know a great many things about you, thanks to your old friend Tazok. I also know of your search for Irenicus, though I have no interest in that creature. However, I am interested in your inevitable confrontation with him. That will indeed be a sight, I am sure."

"What do you know of that fiend? Are you in league with him?" Greywulf growled, the mention of the hated wizard giving him a burst of rage driven energy. "Speak!"

"You are bold, to presume that I should have to do anything you command, Greywulf." Firkraag said, sounding slightly miffed. "However, you are mistaken. I have no dealings with him, nor would I desire to. I am content to watch your duel with him. As for my other reasons for starting this particular challenge… I was getting bored. Dragons have long memories, you know. We have to do something for fun besides count our hoards in the millennia we live. And just recently, I discovered that you and your group were wandering around Amn in search of money. Seeing as Gorion is dead and beyond my revenge, I settled for the next best thing; taking it out on his ward. Every ounce of reputation you once had has been shattered, and the nobility you espouse is now at odds with you. Wherever Gorion is now, he is seething."

"And what of Garren Windspear and Mary?" Aerie asked, angry at the dragon's malice. "Why drag them into this after you've tormented them so much already?"

"Windspear and I have had been playing our little feud for so many years now, I couldn't help but use him as bait. It makes things so much more interesting. His antics prove most entertaining, harassing the orc patrols I send out for him every so often." The dragon laughed for a few seconds, then sighed. "But all good things must come to an end, I suppose. You are free to go."

"What?" Greywulf was shocked at not only the words he heard Firkraag say, but in that his own incredulous cry was echoed by Tazok at the same time, looking up at Firkraag in confusion.

"My Lord... you promised me the Bhaalspawn's head." Tazok growled, though he kept his servile tone as Firkraag glanced down at him. "Have I not served you well? I-"

"Save your complaints, Tazok." Firkraag shook his head lazily. "These men and women have been quite entertaining for me... I do not wish to see them permanently damaged. At least, until they have confronted this Irenicus. How I look forward to seeing that confrontation unfold."

Tazok's eyes blazed and for a moment it appeared he would protest again, but a warning look from Firkraag silenced him. The dragon turned back to the six adventurers and gestured toward the stairway. "There is your exit. I'm sure you can find your own way out."

Greywulf tensed, hating himself for the words he was about to say, but he spoke anyway. "We can't leave, Firkraag. Not without Garren and Mary; you know this."

Firkraag seemed to stare at them for another minute... then burst into a roar of laughter. His booming voice echoed through the chamber, his wings stretching out to nearly the full width of the cavern. Looking back down at the wary adventurers, he chuckled, "This! This is why you are so entertaining! Mere seconds away from freedom and you turn it down! Such fire, such bravado! I applaud you, Bhaalspawn, truly I do."

He turned back to a fuming Tazok and spoke, "A final game, I should think. Tazok has the keys to the prison cells Mary and Garren are held in. I shall satisfy both of your requests here... Tazok, lead them to the cells. Greywulf... when you have arrived, you and you alone, with no aid from your party... you will kill Tazok and take the key from him and free the Windspear clan. Tazok, of course will take exception to this and fight back. Tazok, I presume this arrangement is satisfactory to what I promised you?"

Tazok smiled darkly, nodding as he flexed his main hand. Firkraag turned to the party, his visage as evil as Tazok's. "Should you fail to kill Tazok and die by his hands, he will kill them both, and I will ensure your friends die as well, by either Tazok's hand or perhaps mine own. Are the rules clear?"

Greywulf watched with fury as the dragon leaned back, Tazok approaching the group. Unable to restrain his righteous indignation any longer, he turned to Firkraag and whispered, "Is this all we are to you? Pieces on a game board, free for you to manipulate for your own twisted amusement?"

Firkraag's reptilian eyes darkened and his wings stretched broad, brushing the sides of the chamber as he hissed, "Take care, Greywulf. Few speak with insolence to a dragon and retain their lives."

Greywulf felt a hand on his shoulder, turned around to see Keldorn there, shaking his head no. The mage took a deep breath and motioned for the others to follow Tazok out. Before he turned as well, he looked back at the dragon and said, "This isn't over, Firkraag. Justice is coming to you for the evil you've wrought. We'll be back in the future. You can count on it."

Firkraag was opening the large doors behind him, revealing an enormous pile of gold and diamonds, a hoard of legends. As the dragon stepped onto the bed of wealth and lay upon it for a nap, he rumbled, smoke pouring from his nostrils, "As you wish, Bhaalspawn. Do as you must. It does not interest me until the 'future' becomes 'now.' If you wish to make a confrontation inevitable, you know where I lie in wait. Now walk away, and see to your little rescue efforts. Take your time. Enjoy life. You have much to face... though your crippled comrade will stay here until you have proven yourself victorious. A simple precaution, you understand. Kill Tazok and you need worry of nothing."

Jaheira looked like she would protest, but Aerie and Yoshimo moved to Minsc's side, the Avariel beginning her healing as Yoshimo nodded to the other three. "We'll follow as soon as we can... do what you must."

"Just keep them both safe." Greywulf smiled faintly as they headed out, following the half-ogre to their final confrontation. They had just passed through the archway when another cry from Yoshimo caught his attention. He turned to look at the bounty hunter; the thief catching Greywulf's eye with a tight smile.

"Give him hell."

X X X X X X X

Greywulf tried not to show any weakness as he stood there, across the prison ward from Tazok. Jaheira had been allowed to perform some healing before their battle, bringing him to some semblance of fighting capacity... but it was not looking good. Tazok was at full strength; the look in his eyes along with the veritable waves of anger sweeping off him made it clear he was looking forward to this clash.

Jaheira and Keldorn watched with concern, the two of them glancing back and forth. In other circumstances, this would be a fairly difficult battle for the sorcerer; a lone wizard against a lone fighter of nearly equal power usually ended in the favor of the fighter. Granted, wizards of sufficient power were capable of destroying entire armies if given enough preparation and support... but this was different. The Word of Power Greywulf had used had nearly depleted his magic reserves; his body was still bruised and wounded from the numerous injuries he had sustained in the fall. Jaheira's magic was only enough to keep him on his feet for a few minutes of all-out battle; the longer the battle lasted, the greater chance the sorcerer would make a fatal mistake.

Tazok though... he was uninjured, angry, and had been awaiting this fight for some time. He drew his sword and tested its weight, his eyes never leaving Greywulf as the two stood there. The sound of footsteps drew their attention; coming up the stairway to the prison cell was the wizard Firkraag had maintained at his side. He smiled unkindly at Greywulf and sneered, "Lord Firkraag has sent me to ensure that this battle takes place according to the rules he has set. Rest assured, Lord Firkraag sees everything that I see. Any attempts on my life or from the two of you to interfere with their battle will result in the immediate execution of your friends downstairs."

Keldorn's fist tightened, but he did nothing. They had no choice but to comply; none of them were in any condition to fight a red dragon and with Aerie, Yoshimo, and Minsc still at the wyrm's mercies... Keldorn nodded to the wizard. "We will not interfere."

Jaheira did not speak, but the fury in her glare spoke to her barely contained anger, dwarfed by the powerlessness to do anything here. The wizard smirked at the sight; he turned back to Tazok and Greywulf, tossing the sorcerer his quarterstaff. "Lord Firkraag told me to give you this; use it... if you can."

Tazok's face was a feral grin as he glanced to the side cells; Mary and Garren Windspear bound and gagged inside. "Heh... I hope you and your daughter do not hold great hope in the Bhaalspawn's chances. You will see him die, and then you shall join him."

"You've underestimated me before." Greywulf growled, just self-conscious enough to realize Tazok had revealed his heritage to Garren and his daughter. No time to worry about it now, survive and escape first, damage control later. "Have you forgotten why you carry those prominent scars on your oh-so-beautiful face?"

Tazok's eyes flared with anger, but he showed surprising calm, not charging as Greywulf had expected. "The last time we met your taunts and boasts brought such fury... my lack of restraint caused me a great many wounds. Know that I will not fall for such taunts again."

"Funny..." Greywulf said, leaning on his quarterstaff for support as he tried to center himself for the need at hand. "I didn't think a half-ogre could learn anything, other than better ways to repulse women."

"You still think so much of yourself, Bhaalspawn. But Sarevok was nothing compared to my new master; Firkraag has given me the pleasure of killing you... and know that your death will be the death of everyone you love!!" Tazok roared, charging straight for the half-elf.

The blade came down in a forceful swing, intended to cut him open from shoulder to hip. A quick duck backwards put him out of danger, Greywulf raising one palm to spit a burst of Magic Missiles at the half-ogre. They peppered his chest plate, mini-explosions that Tazok ignored, instead sweeping his blade towards Greywulf, a horizontal cut this time. Once more Greywulf moved back, this time seeing a follow-up attack designed to kill him if he attempted to stay in his position as he had done the first time. Greywulf chose to bring his quarterstaff up to block, the magical wood holding up under the forceful attack of the sword. Greywulf pushed one hand out on Tazok's nearby chest plate, unleashing a torrent of magic through his hand, willing the flame and the lightning to surge through his hand and into the armor, to seep through and immolate the half-ogre underneath...

Tazok laughed nastily, Greywulf looking up at his face in shock. Several runes inscribed on the armor in different locations were glowing, drawing the spells to them and dissipating the magic harmlessly. Greywulf had half a second to comprehend the danger before Tazok's free hand slammed into Greywulf's shoulder, sending him to the ground in terrible pain.

Keldorn watched the battle unfold with concern; Tazok was well prepared for the battle, that much was clear. His past experience with the sorcerer had made him well aware of Greywulf's capabilities and his augmented armor reflected it. The paladin winced as he saw the blow land on Greywulf's shoulder; his opponent was exploiting his weaknesses with impunity. Greywulf couldn't let the battle continue in such a manner; he could see how much Tazok wanted to release his full fury, to let himself go into a berserker rage against the sorcerer. Still, he was restraining it, preferring to use his brain instead, to fight with cunning and calculation. So far, it was working well; Greywulf had yet to even hurt the brute. He had to change the tempo, bring something new to the battle and quickly, or it would be over in seconds.

As if hearing Keldorn's words, Greywulf brought the quarterstaff he carried around as he lay on the floor, blocking the downswing towards his chest. He dropped one hand and let that end of the staff hit the floor, the sword sliding down that end and into the ground. With his free hand, Greywulf reached up and grabbed Tazok's wrist as the half-ogre raised his arms for another attack; the momentum pulled Greywulf up as well, the sorcerer quickly whipping the staff around towards Tazok's head before he could react. It was a solid impact and might have killed a human, maybe even knocked Tazok out were Greywulf fighting at full strength. The only lasting effect on Tazok here was a ringing in the monster's ears, and a flash of anger spreading over his features.

Despite the wrath coming from Tazok, Keldorn mentally pushed Greywulf on. _Good. Keep fighting; hurt him, if only a little. Get him angry enough to make a mistake._

Tazok brought his mammoth blade around in an attempt to literally disarm Greywulf, heading for his wrists. The attack was well thought out; pulling back would leave his chest exposed, and it was too awkward a movement to block well. Greywulf was only left with the option of dodging aside again, right into Tazok's waiting charge. His shoulder slammed right into Greywulf's chest, knocking the wind out of him as he stumbled back again, trying to keep his guard up. It wasn't a crippling attack in the least; none of Tazok's blows so far had been. But the exertion of carrying the battle on his own, without support from his friends against an opponent so driven and so powerful was beginning to wear on him. His muscles were aching, his legs buckling at inopportune moments. One of these times it would cost him his life; the battle had to end soon, regardless.

Another swing came, this time towards his legs, Greywulf commanding the burning muscles in his legs to jump... just high enough. The blade came within inches of shortening him by a foot, but the height gained by his jump gave him excellent position to bring his quarterstaff down again, aiming for the crown of Tazok's skull. The half-ogre saw the attack coming and tried to dodge; he was only partially successful. The staff made a glancing blow off Tazok's face and clanked against his left shoulder pauldron instead. Greywulf pulled the staff as hard as he could; the weapon slammed into the side of his neck, eliciting a growl of anger and surprise from Tazok as he stumbled backwards.

Keldorn's eyes lit up as he saw the half-ogre backpedal, raising his own blade to block a sudden flurry of staff strikes coming from the somehow reenergized sorcerer. _Keep him on the defensive; don't let him be the aggressor again. Vary your swings; don't let up._

It was a moment where both Jaheira and Keldorn held their breath; it seemed Greywulf had finally found his second wind and was keeping the half-ogre off balance with quick strikes from his staff, each one coming close enough to Tazok's head for him to be forced to block. Greywulf spun with a double attack, both sides of his staff alternating in a spilt second, Tazok unsure of which to block; it was all the time Greywulf needed to conjure another spell. No longer a direct attack; a wave of magic pushed out, sweeping everything in front of him back with a great force. Tables and crates all flew away into the wall behind Tazok, and for a moment, it appeared Tazok would go flying as well... but with great effort, the half-ogre leaned down and braced himself, taking small but steady steps through the wave towards Greywulf. The spell finished; Tazok stood there, exhaling in triumph as Greywulf felt a surge of defeat flow through him. It was a gambit, letting up his staff attacks to try a magical assault... and it had failed.

Suddenly it was reversed, constant sword strikes coming down at Greywulf, blocking what he could and dodging those he couldn't. He could feel his strength waning to the point of utter exhaustion as he went, his magic nearly spent as well. Another swing cut into his arm, the jolt making his hands spasm, the quarterstaff falling away. Greywulf held his arm as Tazok positioned himself between the wizard and his weapon, Greywulf desperately looking for an escape. His friends were unable to do a thing; a red fire burned in the eyes of Firkraag's wizard, the dragon undoubtedly seeing through his eyes. Any movement on their part would spell death for Minsc and the others; he was alone in this. He focused on Tazok again... one last attack.

He waited for the next of Tazok's swings, this time moving forward instead of back. He dodged underneath it and slid behind the half-ogre, kicking out with both feet into the backs of Tazok's knees. His legs collapsed with the sudden impact, Greywulf leaping onto his back from behind. His hands clutched the sides of Tazok's head, pulsing with magic as he cried his incantations, pushing as much magic as he could summon into the spell. The half-ogre shrieked with pain as the waves of raw energy pulsed into him, responding as he dropped his own blade and pulled his arms up behind him, grabbing Greywulf by the cloak and yanking him off and throwing him across the room. Greywulf's reflexes were not up to the task of landing softly; he slammed into the concrete wall across the room at full speed, bouncing off the wall with a painful thud. The world was hazy as he attempted to make it to his feet, only halfway there before he saw Tazok bearing down with his sword again, his head bloodied and bruised. The look on his face was no longer one of smug assuredness or calculated attack; Tazok was in a full berserker rage, having abandoned all subtlety or planning. His swing was intended to take Greywulf's head off; Greywulf rolled to the side in an attempt to reclaim his weapon, but he felt a firm grip close around his ankle, swinging him into a pile of crates on the other side of the room.

"Where is your wit now? Why do you not insultingly jest anymore?!" Tazok bellowed, striding towards the downed sorcerer, lying amidst the splintered wood and destroyed equipment that had been inside. He stopped there, as he raised his sword, a bloodthirsty gleam in his eyes as he saw victory at hand. "Prepare to meet your father!!"

Greywulf saw the end coming; his body finally too worn and exhausted to move. His mind was screaming the mental commands to move, but it wasn't coming. Tazok laughed madly as he saw the half-elf defenseless, the blade was raised high over his head, ready to come down execution style. Greywulf closed his eyes, grieving for those he had failed, those who would see him die and then join him- the feel of something beside him amidst the shattered crates brought his mind to full alert; his hand found the hilt in a split second and clutched it tightly as Tazok swung down.

It was over in a moment; the two opponents were frozen, motionless as gasps of shock and surprise echoed through the chamber. Tazok was bent over, his sword inches away from Greywulf's head. A look of shock and disbelief was on the half-ogre's face as he looked down at his own chest; a halberd's spike was stuck through his chest, Greywulf clutching the wooden handle. Most of the handle had been broken off when the crate was destroyed, but what remained was enough for the sorcerer to grasp and thrust forward, still holding it through Tazok's chest with a look of frenzied exhaustion on his face. Finally, after seconds of silence, Greywulf let go, falling backward into the broken crates again, Tazok stumbling backwards. The sword he held dropped from his grasp as he pulled the bloody halberd from his chest, shaking as he looked at it. Blood began dripping from the puncture in his armor; Tazok shot Greywulf one final look of hatred, tried to say something, but his voice was gone. The half-ogre collapsed, finally dead.

Greywulf craned his neck up enough to see for himself the death of his old enemy... then collapsed into blissful unconsciousness as Keldorn and Jaheira darted to his side.


	39. Part 2: No Deed Unpunished

The world was a blur of lights and colors, a mass of unfounded memories and somehow familiar faces. The events of the past few hours were foggy, not quite clear to the young sorcerer as he tried so desperately to wake himself; his eyes flashed open, all the memory coming back in a flood that made his head spin. Tazok, Firkraag, the Windspear's and pain. Lots of pain, accompanying each segment of his broken thoughts. The last thing he remembered was fighting Tazok; he had thought he was dead, until... somehow he had won. He didn't remember how, but he had done it. Greywulf managed to get his eyes to focus on the things around him... there was slate gray stone that comprised the ceiling he was staring up at. He was lying on a wooden bed that looked and felt surprisingly familiar, surrounded by furniture and bedroom ornaments... something nagged about it in the back of his mind, where had he seen this room, this place before...

"Heya... good to see ya again."

Greywulf froze at the sound of the voice. It was unmistakable, but it wasn't possible... it couldn't be her. He turned his head to the side of the bed; there she sat, one leg folded over the other, that same impish grin on her face he had come to expect for so many years. "Imoen...? It... it's you, isn't it?"

"Of course it's me, ya bufflehead." she laughed, unslinging her legs and bouncing over to his side, embracing him tightly. "I've missed you, Greywulf."

"I've... I've missed you too." he said hesitantly, reluctant to believe what he was seeing, feeling before him. She was different; her frame was lighter, her face more carefree than the last time he had seen her. Her face was smooth and unblemished; the little scar that had run down her face after the tortures of Irenicus was gone. As soon as he released her, he glanced up and around, taking in the sights. "Where are we? I... I remember being in a cave... a dungeon, but this is so familiar-"

"That's because it's home!" Imoen said with glee, grabbing his hand and pulling him up. He prepared for the lance of pain in his shoulder as she pulled, but it wasn't there. He glanced down to his shoulder to see no hole in the robe he wore there, nor any pain. In fact, his whole body felt great; fully rested for the first time since... since he couldn't remember when. She yanked him along through various halls, still feeling so familiar as they went, passing rooms and libraries of study, until they came to a large hall, filled with bookshelves and tables, monks and guards shuffling back and forth. Immediately recognition hit him.

"This is Candlekeep." he whispered, not believing his eyes. "But how did we get here? Where's everyone else?"

"So curious, ain't ya?" Imoen rolled her eyes mockingly. "All right then, let's keep moving... hehe..."

She led him back through the castle until they reached the main gate, heading outside to the courtyard where the sages constantly spoke the words of the prophet Alaundo, by the marble fountain they had played by and in so many times in their youth. Out there were several chairs, as well as a table or two. A few trays of food were still half-full, remnants of a fine lunch that had been enjoyed by all there. Only looking at the food made Greywulf realize he hadn't eaten in quite a while; as he moved he could make out the figures sitting in the chairs by the table, two of those chairs empty, obviously awaiting their arrival. "They've been waiting for us." Imoen grinned as they slid into their seats.

Across the table sat Minsc, a broad grin on his face despite the dot of red chicken sauce he had failed to catch with his napkin still on his mouth. He was sitting beside... sitting beside Dynaheir, who despite his memory, was looking as hearty and healthy as ever. She whispered something to Minsc, a wry chastisement for the messy face, to which Minsc sheepishly remedied. Minsc gestured for the pair arriving to sit, before taking another chicken leg and dipping it in sauce, inevitably getting it on his face once more.

Aerie was on Minsc's other side, but she... she was different. Rather than sitting small and unassuming as she usually appeared, she sat forward, a boldness and confidence in her that was surprising. Not only that... her frame was enshrined by two perfect, majestic white wings on either side, protruding so naturally from her back and gracing her features beautifully. She noticed Greywulf's stare; instead of turning away or perhaps blushing as she had done before; she... she winked at him? Winked with what Greywulf could not help but think was a hint of flirtation?

His expression of confusion brought a laugh from her face as she turned and glanced over to a young boy Greywulf did not recognize, also at the table. The boy was a strong looking lad, seated beside an older girl; both still teenagers to be sure... Greywulf nodded in understanding as he saw Keldorn sitting with them, his arm around a woman near his age, perhaps a bit younger. He kissed his wife gently once, and then turned back to his children, looking on in obvious pride.

Yoshimo was sitting behind the young boy of Keldorn's as well, entertaining him by slipping gold coins and pieces from his ear and other sleight of hand tricks. The boy did his best to find them, but the bounty hunter was always just a bit faster.

"It is about time you awoke; we were wondering if you were still alive in there."

Her voice was still tinted with sarcasm, Greywulf noted wryly, turning to face the last two at the table. Jaheira sat there, inspecting the two new arrivals with a raised eyebrow. "I would have thought you'd be eager to explore your old home; not staying in bed until noon like some innkeeper who shall not remain nameless-"

"Ahem... now Miss Jaheira, what did I ever do to you?" The gruff but familiar tones of 'Puffguts' Winthrop intoned as the innkeep stopped by to take some of the platters away. "You know I'm always up at the crack of dawn, slaving away to keep my inn as clean as an elven-"

Jaheira cleared her throat, Winthrop stopping as he took the hint. He took one last glance at Greywulf and smiled before heading off, "Good to see ya again, Galmarath; been far too long."

Greywulf shook himself once, trying to make sense of this utopia yet unbelievable situation. "A dream... has to be-"

"Of c-course it is." the stuttering yet soothing voice of Khalid burst in, Greywulf somehow seeing him for the first time beside Jaheira, one arm around her shoulder as he smiled gently. "S-surprised to s-see me?"

Greywulf veritably launched from his seat to Khalid, embracing the older half-elf with joy. They sat back down, Imoen beaming at Greywulf as he took in everything around him. "I don't... I don't understand." he managed. "Why am I...? I mean, how is this-"

"Possible? I think thou hast already answered thine question." Dynaheir offered. "You yourself said this was a world of dreams."

"It just... it just seems so odd to be dreaming like this... about all of you, so happy-"

"And why shouldn't we be?" Jaheira questioned, glancing at Khalid as she took his hand in hers, holding it tightly. "Is there no room in our... your, world for happiness?"

"No, no, there is... if I could make this world a reality I'd do it without hesitation." Greywulf said quickly.

"Then what bothers you so much about our present location?" Yoshimo remarked wryly. "A perfect world, eh?"

"It... it's just that it shouldn't.. can't be this way. It just can't." Greywulf struggled to get out. "I know I can't change the past-"

"But you still try, don't you, knowing it's hopeless." Keldorn said with a weak smile. "You know you can't change the past; now you have to stop blaming yourself for that. You must learn that you can't do the impossible and change the present by sheer willpower either. Some things are already set in stone; some events cannot be changed. "

"You've endured such sorrow in your life, such disappointment and pain... you're beginning to forget what it feels like to be happy. If you'd admit it... maybe a part of you turned me away not because you didn't feel for me... but because you were afraid where it might lead, to a place you haven't been in a long while." Aerie said, one of her wings fluttering a bit.

"But I'm not- I don't..." Greywulf's arguments fell away as the group there stared at him, their words echoing in his mind. He was a happy guy, right? Granted, there were those days, just like always, but wasn't he as jovial as the next guy?

"Making jokes and trying to keep everyone in good spirits around you is different than being in good spirits yourself." Imoen spoke softly. "You think we don't notice, but we do. All the times you devote everything you've got to us, to everyone but yourself... you can't keep doing it."

He was silent for a while, before looking up at the gathered party of friends, past and present. "So what do I do? How do I... be happy?" he said quietly.

"Remember the ones you loved... and who loved you." Keldorn smiled sadly, kissing his wife on the cheek gently before she, and the rest of his family slowly faded around him.

"Remember all you've overcome... how much you've gained because of your loss." Aerie continued, the wings slowly disappearing from her frame.

"Stay true to what you know as truth; do not compromise lightly." Yoshimo said with a firm nod.

"Take comfort in the past, but do not neglect the present." Minsc said quietly as he turned to put one arm around Aerie, Dynaheir vanishing as well.

"Know that even the most difficult pain can be withstood..." Jaheira said as she sat alone now, her hand no longer holding Khalid's, but lying open and empty, a look of sorrow briefly glimmering in her eyes as she glanced back at Greywulf. "Should you have the love of those around you to see you out of the darkness."

"And keep looking to the future..." Imoen's voice was melancholy, but still managed to have that same hint of purity and innocence that had been there from the start. He looked at her, saddened without knowing, until he saw her face. She was more haggard, and the scar that had been gone was back, running down her left eyelid. She noticed his change in mood and smile weakly, embracing him once. "Look to the future, for the day when everything will be made right; when you finally find what you're looking for."

She disappeared from his touch, leaving him with nothing but empty air; Greywulf looked around for her, even though he knew he shouldn't bother. He exhaled slowly, standing and turning back to the others. The table and chairs were gone; all that was left were the five party members he traveled with now, standing around him. Keldorn extended one hand. "Ready?"

He hesitated for a moment... then took it. "Yes."

A flash of light seemed to envelop him as the world changed; Greywulf tried to sit up, but a firm yet gentle hand pushed him back down. The expectation of pain he had not met in his dream was certainly there in real life, or what he presumed to be so; he felt like he'd just gone ten rounds with a minotaur... in retrospect, that was pretty darn close to the truth. He forced his eyes open to see Jaheira standing over him, the source of the pressure that had pushed him to his back again. "It's all right..." she said quietly, glancing around. "We brought you back to the Windspear cabin. You were tossing and mumbling things... it was just a nightmare."

"No... no," Greywulf mumbled, his brain abruptly fogging and sending him back to sleep. "It... it was a good dream..."

His eyes closed again as he lapsed back into unconsciousness, courtesy of the lingering effects of the Sleep spell cast on him by Aerie before they had gotten here. Jaheira studied his features as he laid there, the look of calm peace on his face, a peace he hadn't showed in quite some time. She was glad his dreams were proving more benevolent than they had in the past... he deserved some respite from his struggles. She bent down, brushing one lock of his hair out of his face. "Dream well," she murmured, kissing his forehead gently. "Good dreams are something far too rare for our lives..."

Even as she straightened up, a hint of uncertainty caught her. She didn't really know why she had just done that... it wasn't- a brief flutter of movement caught her vision and she turned quickly with a frown, but did not see anyone. She looked around for a second more, but then dismissed it and headed out of the room. Of course, had she turned a second earlier, she would have seen Aerie start to enter the room to check on Greywulf, before leaving without a word.

X X X X X X X X

The faint sound of echoing footsteps reached the ears of the great beast lying upon his ridiculously expensive bed; the expanse of the cavern hall making it nearly impossible for anyone to approach without the resident inside hearing. Firkraag looked up from his position, a look of irritation flashing across his features. He squinted down the hall, focusing on a figure that was slowly approaching alone and from the looks of it, unarmed. Firkraag grimaced, it wasn't his pet wizard Conster; he would have announced himself by now. Dragging himself out of bed, Firkraag saw the robes and the mark on the robes... his eyes narrowed, and he murmured a few spells, transforming back to his human form, approaching to sit upon his ruby throne while the figure made the long journey towards him.

It seemed like a lifetime, but the interloper finally arrived, standing before the obviously unimpressed Firkraag. He was a man in what looked like his mid to early twenties, with dark brown hair and a face that spoke of an arrogance that might possibly rival Firkraag's. Still, a malice dwelt in those features as well, that suggested he might have the power to back up his pride. There was silence between the two for a while, neither flinching as they stared each other down. Finally, Jierdan Firkraag spoke. "Why are you here? Does your master not understand the common tongue?"

"He is... persistent." the younger man said, acting as though choosing his words carefully. "He would know why you have responded in such a hostile manner to not one but two of his gracious envoys."

Firkraag laughed, still sitting though he leaned over to eye the man directly. "I would have thought the answer quite clear to that. One envoy's message rejected; I sent him back with two limbs still attached. The second who came... that was just foolish decision making on not only your masters' part, but the envoy. Surely he knew the fate that awaited him the moment he stepped foot in my chamber. He would have had a better chance running from both of us."

"Indeed." the younger man grunted, tossing the remains of a charred skull at the base of Firkraag's throne. "I was sent to... encourage... you, to reconsider your decision. Things could be very beneficial to you should you make the right choice, Firkraag. Very beneficial indeed."

"Hmm... so your master thinks that if I do not respect his lackeys, I will heed the warnings of his son, does he?" Firkraag said in mock thought. "What need have I of your father's 'power'? Should I submit to a weakling whose power is only of the slightest importance because of his heritage?"

"That heritage will bring him to the power of a god." the younger man said, a hardness settling in on his features; Firkraag was trying his patience. "Amesthy'kta has already joined us, so has the were-wyvern Ekim Cyre; in a few more days, the Chromatic drake nests near Saradush will be under his control as well. The only one besides you who has rejected our offer was Fll'yissetat; she has since had a change of heart, courtesy of a Geas. Surely you do not want to undergo the same fate. It would be wise to join us, Firkraag..."

"Wise? Hahaha!" Firkraag boomed with mocking laughter, wither ignoring or not seeing the tightening of the fists of the man before him. "Wisdom is seeing the big picture, fool. Fll'yissetat is a fool, and your master's ranks are diminished by her presence, not swelled! Wisdom is knowing not to throw in with a weakling whose only defense is surrounding himself with his betters as a shield. Wisdom, is also, I might add, knowing when one of your most hated enemies has just passed you on the very road taken to get here."

The man frowned a bit at the last comment, before Firkraag tossed him a toothy grin. "Gorion's ward, if you are too stupid to figure that out."

He lurched forward, his eyes wide in disbelief. "Greywulf? Gorion's ward was here?!"

"Quite." Firkraag yawned. "I spoke with him for a time... he was quite entertaining. I even let him take back the prisoners I had captured in our little game."

"Gorion's ward was here and you let him live?" the man roared. "Do you know how long we have searched for a way of disposing of him without exposing ourselves? My father would have rewarded you beyond measure had you destroyed him!"

"You'll find I care very little about what your father thinks." Firkraag said, abruptly tiring of the verbal sparring. "Conster!"

The wizard flashed through a portal beside Firkraag's throne, bowing to his master. "What would you have of me, Lord Firkraag?"

"Show our 'guest' here out." Firkraag grinned nastily. "Ensure nothing hinders him in his departure. Should he resist... kill him."

Conster nodded and turned to the young man before him, coming to take him by the wrist and forcibly lead him out- a spray of blood shot from Conster's back as the wizard looked down in horror, the young man's fist through his chest. He pulled it out as Conster slumped to the ground, blood pooling from the gaping hole in his chest. The man turned to Firkraag, growling, "You are a fool!! My father will have your head for this insolence!"

Firkraag's eyes narrowed; he stood from his throne, descending the two steps and stood toe to toe with the man, blood and gore still dripping from his hand. "You have tried my patience sorely, worm. Making demands of me, killing my servants, and speaking to me with such a tone should earn you a death so painful you would prefer the punishment of the Hells. But I am going to be benevolent, fool, and allow you to leave with your miserable life. If your father ever desires to beg forgiveness for his transgressions towards me, the mongrel half-breed can come himself. Until then, everyone who steps foot on my land that is sent by him will find nothing but a swift death."

The words Firkraag spoke enflamed the young man's wrath further, at the words 'mongrel' and 'half-breed', his eyes bulged and he lashed out, "YOU DARE-"

An explosion of magic took place in those few seconds, transformations of reptilian malice and power that many would pay gold to witness for only a split second. When the magics had finally cleared, there was a titanic sight had anybody been alive and present to see it. A flash of slithering tails batting back and forth, wings batting each other as they swirled and danced through the air, claws and teeth biting and slashing back and forth between the two. Still, to anybody who could make out the battle, it was obvious who was proving the stronger dragon that day. The experience and the years of combat that the red dragon had on his side was easily a match for the younger brown dragons' hasty attack. In a short few moments, the triumphant red wyrm had the brown dragon beneath it pinned, Firkraag's claws keeping the brown dragon's own arms from moving, while his tail did the same for the others. But the difference was Firkraag's jaws, the red glow from his mouth and the smoke that threatened to cloud the whole room from his nostrils as a blast of flame readied itself in his mouth, should the thought even cross his mind. Despite the resistances of dragons to such elements, there was no way the pinned brown wyrm could survive such an intense inferno; with absolute loathing and begrudgement, he growled out, "Enough! I... I yield."

Firkraag remained in his position for a moment longer... then slowly unfurled his limbs from keeping the brown dragon down, gently flying off and landing before him, as another blast of magic surged through the room, a man now picking himself off the ground as a human, rather than a brown dragon. He glared up at the mighty red beast before him, tossing behind him as he left, "You will regret not killing the Bhaalspawn when you had a chance, Firkraag... and for ever crossing my father."

"Perhaps..." Firkraag's voice boomed through the cavern to the young man's ears, "But I think not. Oh, and Draconis... tell your half-breed father Abazigal that if he even thinks of setting foot in my land, I will kill him faster than I defeated you. Bhaalspawn or not, he is no match for my power. No one is."

X X X X X X X X

"We were a bit hasty in our pursuit, truth be told." Yoshimo sighed, speaking with Minsc at the main dinner table of the Windspear cabin. Minsc's leg was still raised and wrapped up, but constant attention from Jaheira and Aerie along with a few healing potions had healed it to where he could at least walk, though running was out of the question, and a distinct hobble marked his gait. Another day and it would not be noticeable, but for now Garren had offered them lodging. "The lone wolfwere fled down through several tunnels and caverns, always staying just far enough ahead that we could not catch it but just enough for us to keep in sight. We never dreamed it was leading us straight into an ambush."

"And that is when the evil Tazok caught you." Minsc said gravely. "Had Minsc been there, things would have been different!"

"I have no doubt, my large ranger." Yoshimo chuckled. "Though from your tale of survival, I give you the award for most harrowing experience."

Minsc grinned and checked the axes he had lain on the table to show Yoshimo. Their metal was nicked and dented, the magical steel not enough to protect completely from the abuse Minsc had put them through, but they could still be used in battle in an instant. "Minsc thinks he has found some new favorite weapons... though there is still no match for a good two-handed sword."

"I must disagree, Minsc... the katanas have no equal in craftsmanship." Yoshimo pointed out. "But enough bragging about the potency of our weapons... though excuse my somewhat dubious turn of phrase."

Minsc frowned in confusion, Yoshimo chuckling at the ranger's naivete. "Ah... forget I said anything, Minsc. Do you know when our gracious host is returning?"

"He left for Athkatla yesterday," Minsc frowned, deep in thought. "He should return today, Boo estimates. He is very generous to speak with the paladins again about our situation."

Yoshimo nodded; being ordered to bring the murderer of Ajantis and the other dead knights to justice was now somewhat of a more difficult problem. Windspear had agreed to return and inform them of the situation again yesterday. "He is a good man." Minsc continued. "He did not even get mad when we explained Greywulf's situation to him."

"Having one's life saved by a man gives you a degree of respect; not even the stories of the evil Bhaalspawn are strong enough to break such a life-debt." Yoshimo shrugged. "Do you know where the others are?"

"Keldorn and Mary were out back, talking. Jaheira was checking on Greywulf... Minsc thinks Aerie was going to do the same thing."

"Here comes the Avariel now; how do you fare this afternoon, Aerie?" Yoshimo flashed his grin at Aerie as she approached and sat down. "Your countenance seems to have fallen somewhat; is something wrong?"

Aerie met his querying gaze, realized how she looked, then shook her head. "Oh... no, not at all. I'm fine."

"Good... we will need to be moving on soon." Jaheira's voice caught them all off guard as she came up and sat across from Aerie, beside Yoshimo and Minsc. "Greywulf will be up and moving within the day. His wounds are healing well; and the Sleep spell Aerie cast is keeping him sedated so his body can heal at its full ability. Fine work, Aerie."

Aerie nodded at the compliment, flashing a quick smile of gratitude. "It sounded like a terrible battle... I'm just glad he's okay."

"He was lucky... we all were." she sighed. "The crates he landed on contained weapons for Firkraag's orcs and other minions; had he landed differently he might have impaled himself upon the blades contained within. As it is, he suffered a number of cuts from the wood and the swords within. Those will heal quickly though..."

Jaheira continued to discuss Greywulf's condition and their future plans as Keldorn sat alongside Mary at the back of the cabin, listening quietly to the girl's worries and relief at the ordeal's end, as she told him of the time she had spent with her father and what he had lost so far in his war against Firkraag. "I have long feared that Firkraag would claim Father's life... now I see how easily he could should he make the effort." Mary sighed, fear in her voice. "I do not know how I will sleep in these lands now, knowing the nature of our enemy now."

"You may rest uneasy... but do not despair." Keldorn shook his head. "Helm sees all, and ensures that the scales are balanced. No matter what happens, Firkraag will see his deeds paid in full eventually."

"Thank you for your words, noble paladin." Mary said quietly. "But I fear you do not understand... how it feels to have so much taken by this beast and know how much he could still do."

"Perhaps I know better than you think." Keldorn said softly. "I have... I have lost much to this beast as well."

"You?" Mary asked. "What has Firkraag done to you?"

Keldorn hesitated for a moment... "I fought against him in the past; years ago I combated his operations and men in Athkatla. He...he retaliated against me. My family was murdered for opposing Firkraag. It... it is not something I tell many people now, just know that I fully understand the pain you feel, Mary."

"I'm so sorry." Mary whispered, sitting beside the aged paladin. "How.. how can you be so calm about this... about letting him go, knowing he's going to keep doing evil? If I were you... I don't know what I'd do, I'd hate him so much for taking Father away-"

"And therein lies what a paladin must sacrifice, to walk this road." Keldorn smiled, inhaling the cool air deeply. "A paladin does not know hatred or revenge. He must be above those things; he must be a symbol; an incorruptible force. Not to say I do not feel the same anger at Firkraag for his deeds, but for me it must be righteous indignation, it must be about justice. I can rest in the fact that Firkraag's sins have been exposed; if he does not pay by my hand in this life, he will meet his torment in the Abyss."

"Will you go back as soon as Greywulf is healed?"

"My spirit desires to see this matter ended... but it is not meant to be. Not yet, at least." Keldorn replied. "Imoen's life still hands in the balance; 'Better that ten guilty go free than one innocent should perish.' One of the first things in the oath of the Paladin. Firkraag will wait. He-"

Keldorn stopped abruptly, looking around tightly. Mary noticed and was about to say something, before Keldorn shook his head no. He motioned toward an old shed near the well outside; Mary nodded and darted towards it as Keldorn unsheathed his blade quietly, slowly making his way toward the front of the house, listening intently as he stretched out with every sense at his disposal.

Inside, the sound of a door opening at the front of the cabin and the blast of cool air entering had caught all of the party's attention inside. "It seems Garren has returned earlier than we expected." Yoshimo said with a grin. "Perhaps now we can return to some semblance of peace for a few days at least-"

Yoshimo was cut off by the sound of several blades being unsheathed along with a number of bows being drawn back as well; before the four at the table stood six men and women, four dressed in armor and holding a mixture of swords and bows, two others in the background wearing mage robes and already forming the beginnings of spell symbols in their hands. The party had been caught flat-footed, their weapons still sheathed and far from at the ready, a far cry from their sudden opponents. A woman stepped out, a grim expression crossing her face as she glared at the group. "Hold, every one of you! Let justice take its rightful course; Harper justice!"

Jaheira's eyes widened in recognition; she stood and stepped forward toward the woman who had just spoken. "Reviane?! What do you think you are doing? It is I, Jaheira!"

"I can see that; as much as it pains me to do this..." Reviane growled, swinging her blade around to rest it against Jaheira's throat. "A traitor's death is what you deserve!"

The others might have gone for their weapons at this point, most assuredly guaranteeing Jaheira's instant death at the hands of her own Harper kin. Luckily... not all the party was being observed. A sword tip rested against the back of one of the wizards, the man gasping in alarm as the rest of the Harpers glanced over in surprise. Keldorn stood behind one of the wizards with the Hallowed Redeemer at his back. "I think you should lower your weapon, Harper." Keldorn said calmly. "Truly, there is no need for bloodshed here; though if you harm her, I swear I will avenge her blood on every one of you."

Reviane did not move for a second, still holding Jaheira captive by the tip of her sword. Her eyes met Keldorn's, as though trying to determine his true threat. "You only hold one of our own at blade; the rest of these would fall quickly without their weapons ready should you kill our man."

Keldorn said nothing as his hands were a blur; he let go of the Hallowed Redeemer with one hand and though it was a struggle with just one hand, kept the blade trained at the wizard's back while his other slipped a small, one handed crossbow from his side pack. Holding it up he pointed it directly at the chest of the other wizard, the wizard backing up slightly, only to run into the wall. "Now I hold the lives of two of your kin in my hands. I have no wish to shed blood here... can you give up your advantage for a chance at resolving this peacefully? As a paladin of Torm, I can, and I will."

Keldorn quietly dropped his crossbow and sheathed the Hallowed Redeemer, awaiting Reviane's action. The Harper eyed Keldorn with suspicion a moment longer... then lowered her own sword, turning back to face the angry glare of Jaheira, the druid rubbing her neck as she stepped away from the Harper warrior. "Very well. You and I have much to talk about, old friend."


	40. Part 2: Worthwhile Weakness

A veritable flood of feelings hit him as the man finally roused from his long slumber, the world gradually coming into focus again. He sat up, half-expecting to have the stubborn druid at his side again, pushing him back down, but nothing impeded his progress as he pulled himself out of bed this time. Greywulf ran one hand through his hair, blinking a few times as he looked around. He was definitely in the cabin of the Windspear's, so odds were he wasn't dreaming again. Greywulf yawned again, frowning as he stretched the shoulder that had been injured. It felt better... a lot better. There was almost no soreness or stiffness; surely he hadn't been out that long that Aerie and Jaheira had been able to fully heal it-

Greywulf swore briefly as he realized why he felt just so fully rested and at the same time why his head felt so foggy; he'd gotten himself into the habit of waking up every seven hours, regardless of any extra time they had to sleep in. The only reason he would have ended up sleeping for so long... _A Sleep spell. Jaheira knows I hate it when people cast that on me, especially when I 'need' it; can't think straight for hours afterward, it's hard enough to spellcast with a clear mind-_

The sound of raised voices in the room over caught his attention, Greywulf glancing around quickly to locate his weapon and gripping it tightly. He tried to sneak over towards the doorway, to possibly listen in on the argument apparently taking place a room over, but a wave of dizziness caught him, leftover remnants of the Sleep spell. He inwardly cursed again; taking a few deep breaths to steady himself, he doggedly kept moving, using the wall to support himself as he finally got to the doorway, peering around the corner to spy the inhabitants within-

"-was Galvarey's fault all along! He never had any intention of letting us leave once we arrived at the Harper Hold; you know what kind of scum he was, Reviane! Why can you not see the truth?"

A woman who looked like Jaheira's equal in spirit and willpower, no small achievement, was standing across from Jaheira and the other four, backed by five other men and women; their manner was not as hostile as it could have been, but from the glares being shot from either side, it looked as though it was not a question of if, but when violence would break out.

"Jaheira, you know that's not good enough!" Reviane growled. "I can no more take your single testimony as proof than I can deny the blood spilt at the Harper Hold! You know I want to believe you, but there are seven dead Harpers and you and your companions are the murderers!"

"She has told you the truth behind these events; can you at least investigate her words?" Keldorn offered.

"We have done so, and found nothing to exonerate any of you." Reviane said grimly, looking at the paladin stonily. "The man we assigned to head this investigation came up with nothing; his spies report seeing you and the others entering the Harper Hold, and then leaving. When the outer guards reported back in, all they found were the dead bodies of Galvarey and his men. You were the only ones to have gone in, and you even admit to killing them! How can we ignore this?"

"By listening!" Jaheira spat, the grip she held on her spear tightening. "You know me better than this, Reviane. You know I would not have done this without good reason-"

"For which you have yet to provide." Reviane said, her temper abruptly cooling in favor of a pleading look on her face, evidence of the reluctance she still held to battling her old friend. "You are well known to have hated Galvarey; you never made this a secret. The last time you visited the Hold, those nearby witnessed the disdain you held for him, how you fumed at the thought of his leadership here. Jaheira, your temper amongst the Harpers is legendary; many believe it entirely possible that you killed Galvarey out of sheer hatred for the man."

"Then those people did not know me at all." Jaheira ground out, looking away from Reviane angrily.

Reviane sighed, and then extended one hand, a last gesture of fellowship. "Please, Jaheira... give me something. Anything, to prove to me you didn't murder them in cold blood. I have to have a reason to bring back- you know I can't let you go without proof."

Greywulf's eyes narrowed as he listened; surely the greed and ambition of Galvarey concerning the exploitation of his heritage should have been enough testimony as to why the Harpers had attacked them... Jaheira hesitated for a moment, then shook her head. "There is no reason I can give that will suffice to you, Reviane. I have told you everything I can; believe me as you will, or do not. I stand in the right, and I can do nothing else."

"Then you leave us no choice." Reviane said solemnly, raising her sword once more, her actions copied by everyone in the room. She glanced at Keldorn's wary face, a hint of sadness in her tone. "I gave you your opportunity, paladin... believe me when I say I regret this."

Greywulf's eyes flashed as he realized the truth: they were protecting him; none were willing to tell why they had been brought there, why Galvarey had attacked them in the first place. _Damn it, Jaheira... all of you! My secret isn't worth this!_

"Stop!" his voice rung out as he stepped out from where he had been listening, leaning on his quarterstaff more than he would have liked. "I don't believe we've been properly introduced. Greywulf."

Reviane glanced at the newcomer with just a tinge of disbelief, wondering if he was serious. "Greywulf... you are the one whom Jaheira follows, correct? She told us you were away; that you would not be back for some time. Perhaps you can explain this second deception, now-"

"A deception she felt was necessary to protect me; one borne of honor and trust, rather than any desire to harm her kin." Greywulf cut her off, an irritated expression crossing his face, though whether it was directed at his comrades or the Harpers opposing them remained to be seen. "You're right, Jaheira isn't telling you everything... go ahead, Jaheira."

She caught his eye for a moment, hesitating. "Greywulf... are you certain-"

"I refuse to keep secrets that will harm those I care about the most; I had hoped you would realize this." Greywulf said firmly.

"So be it." Jaheira nodded. "Reviane, Galvarey was after Greywulf because he is one of the Children; he hoped to capitalize on the fears of the prophecies concerning the Bhaalspawn and use him as a trophy to gain enough influence to become Herald."

A collective intake of breath could be heard as the Harpers across the room raised their guard again, every eye directed at Greywulf. "This... he is a Bhaal child?" Reviane said warily, almost taking a step back. "And you trust him over one of your own? Jaheira... surely you cannot think that the Council will... will take the word of a Bhaalspawn over a trusted, respected member of the Harpers?!"

"Funny... that's exactly what Galvarey said to taunt us as he died." Greywulf growled. "I had hoped you would show more sense than he; believe me when I say I do not want to fight here today. Leave, and no blood need be shed. Stay, and I refuse to be held responsible for what happens."

"That sounded a lot like a threat, freak." one of the warriors with the Harpers spat, pointing his sword at Greywulf. Minsc's eyes flashed with fury, the ranger taking a step forward with rage. "You insult Greywulf and you insult Minsc!! Apologize, or there will be liberal butt-kicking!"

"Enough!"

The small, feminine, yet so indignant voice that broke through the air, interrupting the second time that violence had been imminent took everyone by surprise; looking over at the front of the house, there stood Mary, her small frame trembling with a mixture of anger and fear. "All of you, stop this! Whatever... whatever differences you have, this is still my father's house! I will not have you fighting in this place!"

"Child, do you know who these people are? Who this 'Greywulf' is?" Reviane began, glancing over at the teenager, though her eyes never left the forms of Minsc and Greywulf, the two closest to her. "You should leave-"

"I will not leave! And I do not think _you _know who these people are! They risked their lives to save me and my father from captivity by orcs. Those two almost died to save my father from death; they even faced a dragon, knowing he could have killed them at any time, and you condemn them because of his heritage?" Mary demanded. "I... I may not be an adventurer, or a... a Harper or a paladin, but I know a hero when I see one. These men and women are heroes, and I refuse to let any of you fight, especially not here, in my father's house! If you... if you have the slightest bit of respect for me, or for my word, then you will leave, now!"

The silence in the cabin was deafening as the young girl stared down both groups, the words spoken having more impact than any would have imagined. Finally, Keldorn stepped forward, lowering his blade. "Heh... Mary shows more wisdom than all of us. There will be no fighting here today, not by my blade."

Greywulf nodded, stepping back. "Mary is right. This has been a huge mistake, and we will not be party to it. Lower your weapons; let this end."

Gradually, the hostility in the air seemed to diffuse, both sides relaxing as Reviane sheathed her sword, stepping forward to Jaheira. The druid's expression, though no longer hostile, was still hard, locking eyes with Reviane. "Jaheira... I believe you. You may not think so, but I do not believe you murdered Galvarey and his men in cold blood. Whether I can convince the investigation of this when I return will be another story entirely, but believe me when I say you have my support, at the least. Forgive me for my doubt; I see I was wrong about you and your companion. No murderer would have given his pursuers so many chances at gaining an advantage, or gained the respect of such a young woman as this."

Jaheira did not speak for a moment; finally a hint of a curl appeared at the corner of her mouth, as Jaheira took Reviane by the shoulder, giving her an uncommon embrace. "Then it is enough, Reviane. I am glad; Mystra watch over you."

"And Silvanus over you, Jaheira." Reviane bowed, gesturing to the Harpers with her to depart. They filed out, past Mary, though Reviane stopped briefly to turn back to Jaheira. "I do not know if they will listen, Jaheira... tensions run high in this matter. They will not send me again, of this I am sure."

"Do whatever you can, Reviane; I will do the same."

Reviane nodded once before disappearing with her men as Mary stepped in, veritably collapsing in emotional exhaustion as Yoshimo held her close, letting her fear and trembling drain away; Greywulf glanced at the others, Mary still shuddering in Yoshimo's arms, as Greywulf wondered how much of a toll this would be on the rest of them through the days to come.

X X X X X X X

The trek back towards Athkatla was a quiet, darkly toned journey; despite the victories they had managed over the past few days... the events of the last few hours had soured any sense of accomplishment they might have had. Instead of returning with the money for Imoen's rescue as planned, they had barely escaped a red dragon's clutches with their lives, and that only because he had let them go. The Harpers had given a response to their deeds at the Harper Hold, and it was not favorable. Despite the eventual resolution to the conflict that might have pitted friends at each other's throats, the chances of such a diplomatic solution occurring a second time were slim to none. Garren had returned the next day had told them of the Radiant Heart's decision to let them go on, without defeating Firkraag completely. The knowledge of his presence and threat was enough for them; their forces would keep a close eye on the area, as well as on Garren and Mary. This little victory cheered their spirits some, but not nearly enough after all the suffering they had undergone.

The two most heavily burdened at the moment were the ladies of the party, though each in their own manner. Aerie ignored the pain in her feet as they kept moving, the group having already agreed to travel a little further than normal in order to make it to the outskirts of the De'Arnise border; the safest spot for camping since their efforts in removing the trolls. The Avariel glanced over at Greywulf as they kept moving, her heart and mind flashing with longings and regrets. She remembered the care in Jaheira's eyes and the small gestures of affection she had shown him, something Jaheira had no doubt not intended for anyone to see- but she had. And despite the talk Greywulf and she had, it still nagged at her... what might have been. She had thought for a time that she was okay with the decision Greywulf had made, she had agreed and had been able to move on as well... but it was a lie.

Her stomach twisted in knots, perhaps not so much at the fact that their relationship would remain strictly plutonic... but more so at the fact she was once more set adrift emotionally, investing all of herself in a relationship with Greywulf, only to have it cut loose, sentencing her to sink or swim, do or die. As of late, her will to keep fighting was growing weaker, less willing to deal with the strain of the adventuring life and the constant pain and grief and treachery they fought. She had known it would be hard, but this was so much more than she had expected. If she had really shown what she was feeling back at the cabin, she would have been trembling and collapsing alongside Mary after the tense standoff had ended; only strength of will kept her from doing so, a strength that was rapidly fading. "Baervan help me." she whispered, shivering once in the cool of the day as they kept moving.

The end point of the party line was occupied by Jaheira, the position always taken when she desired time alone, away from the others and the pressure to communicate, to release her feelings. It was better this way, when she was alone. She didn't have to worry about trusting anyone, about them trusting her... about anyone depending on her but herself. Trust got people hurt... trust got people dead. It almost did today; trust in Greywulf. It was so much easier not having to look at him, or having to talk to him. He was so willing to put himself in danger, to expose his greatest secret, even when she was unwilling to divulge it without his express permission... all for the sake of securing those he cared about. He showed such great faith in those he traveled with; and it scared her. Scared her that even as that faith rested on her shoulders, her capacity for the same with him was shrinking, if only by a little.

It hadn't meant to be this way; she had never seen a point when she could look at Greywulf and spy the flaw, the falsehood in his person that could condemn the young man before her. But there was so much pressuring her; Galvarey, Reviane... just the plain reaction to the news he was a Bhaalspawn caused such strong emotion and accusation; she could hear the condemnation and the mistrust from those she trusted and fellowshipped with for so long before she began to think that maybe... just maybe, they could be right. No- no. She shook her head again, pushing the doubts, so commonly springing to mind now, out of her mind. But despite her best efforts, and the front she tried to put on, that everything was okay... she could still see Reviane's look of shock as she discovered her allegiance to a Bhaalspawn... the point where she would have killed her, retribution for the blood of Harpers' spilt.

A quick shudder and the memories were firmly pushed away, letting the druid look up again, still alone at the end of the line. Alone... better that way. Nobody to fail, nobody to betray or trust.

Greywulf and Minsc were at point, the ranger leading through the easiest routes while Greywulf noted them alongside, leaving Keldorn and Yoshimo to the middle of the group. Yoshimo had been uncommonly quiet since leaving Garren's cabin, though it had been a rough experience for all of them. Keldorn took it in stride, though Yoshimo was visibly disturbed as he continued traveling alongside Keldorn. The paladin glanced over for a moment, sensing the indecision in the thief. He ended it by asking, "Something on your mind, Yoshimo?"

The bounty hunter looked both relieved and uncertain at the same time; curious, Keldorn thought with a frown. Still, the thief spoke in a brief moment, though he did not sound his usual, confident self. "Just pondering the events of hours past, Keldorn. Perhaps... perhaps wondering how the Harpers shall treat our Jaheira in light of Reviane's encounter."

"The Harpers can be benevolent when the hour calls for it... but their's is a society that I cannot call good, truly. For every righteous action they perform there is a deed of foulness that can be just as easily done in the name of balance. No, I do not condemn them, for the good I have seen them do far outweighs any bad... but the potential lies so close to the surface, I cannot help but be wary."

"All of us have potential for darkness, Keldorn. Including you, as blasphemous as I might sound." Yoshimo grinned.

"True, but most of us have a defined opinion on where our loyalties lie. The Harpers do not; the potential for good or evil is constantly tipping and moving to ensure balance, while at the same time their actions show the exact opposite. Perhaps my age has made me paranoid, but I will not be surprised if Jaheira is betrayed by her comrades."

"An interesting turn of phrase; would it not be Jaheira who were betraying her comrades?" Yoshimo asked.

"No... no, she lives by a set of beliefs and ideals, ones that most definitely favor the good, the light. More tempered by her philosophy on the balance than many, but the light is there. When one follows their heart, despite the efforts of those you once trusted and belonged to, attempting to sway you otherwise... it is they who have betrayed, not you."

"An interesting thought..." Yoshimo paused for a moment, then spoke again with a strangely earnest tone. "And what of those who have no choice? Those who are forced into changing, despite what they want? Is their betrayal as dark and wicked as those who do so willingly?"

"No betrayal can be committed unwillingly... to some degree, every man who sells his comrades is culpable in one way or another." Keldorn sighed. "It doesn't mean there should not be mercy granted, or forgiveness extended... but it is a hard thing, Yoshimo. A man's trust is more valuable than gold or silver; if broken, the wrath of the one offended will be swift and terrible; I pity the one who betrays his comrades, Yoshimo... truly I do."

X X X X X X X

The normally obnoxious and rowdy feel of the Copper Coronet was somewhat soothing to their spirits as they entered its familiar doors, their adventuring home away from home a relief to see once again. The weather had taken a foul turn on their second day back, a condition to match the mood. Rain and lightning had plagued them, drenching their bodies as they hurried through the streets of Athkatla and into the Slums, trying to ignore the musty and foul smell that the rain always seemed to evoke from the streets of the Slums every time a rainstorm hit. They entered the Coronet wet and tired, but in one piece. They drudged into the room, ordering food and drink as they found a few empty tables to sit at, just content to rest their tired bodies. Greywulf wiped the rain from his hair, splattering the counter with raindrops as he approached Hendak and Bernard, nodding to them as he saw Hendak without his bandages, looking as fit and hearty as ever.

"Good to see you both again; I see you're back to fighting form." he said, leaning on the counter.

"And you return, victorious as always, I assume?" Hendak laughed, offering Greywulf a towel from behind the counter as Bernard poured the sorcerer a mug of ale.

"Not as much as we'd like." Greywulf admitted, glancing back at the others, scattered amidst the tables. "We're still short the money we need to rescue Imoen... after all the trouble we went through out there at the Windspear Hills, we got absolutely nothing out of it."

"Then perhaps I have your solution." Hendak said. "There has been a small group of men seeking you and your group as of late... they even went so far as to leave a message should you come here."

"Really?" Greywulf's initial burst of intrigue might have been less subdued if not for their recent altercation with the Harpers, but he asked anyway. "Did you recognize them?"

"No... no, I did not. But their message was simple; their master and your prospective employer waits in the Sea's Bounty Tavern."

"I've been there once or twice, me Lord." Bernard added as he took down Greywulf's order of food. "A rough place to be sure; I'd be careful if ye intend to travel thereabouts."

"I'll keep it in mind, Bernard. Thanks, Hendak." Greywulf nodded in gratitude as he headed back towards the others, awaiting his order.

The thought of another job so soon was exhausting, but they were so close... Imoen was a scant few thousand gold pieces away, and it still seemed like an impossible sum. If this could get them there... then rest be damned, he'd do it. He moved to sit in the closest open seat, across from Aerie. He sighed once, drying his hair a bit further with the towel he had, before offering it to Aerie. She silently declined, though her head barely moved to look at him. He frowned; leaning over to her he asked, "Hey... are you okay? Feeling all right? This weather can bring out a cold pretty quick, you know."

Aerie looked up at him suddenly, her eyes showing all the struggle she had been feeling as they made their way here. She leaned over to him and said in a voice of dead seriousness and desperation, "I… I just need you to tell me what the worth of a life on the ground is. Is there anything to compare to the freedom of living in the clouds?"

Greywulf was taken by surprise; he had thought, hoped, she had found her way past this doubt and fear she had been plagued with for so long. Apparently her demons were not dealt with as of yet... he met her eyes, silently waiting for an answer that he wasn't sure he could give. "There are many things that are wonderful, Aerie... but I don't know if they are better than your former life."

"No… they can't be." Aerie said, adamant. "Everything of beauty can be seen from the sky. And there are so many places you cannot go if all you can do is walk."

"It's the way life is, Aerie." Greywulf said, equally as adamant. "But remember, I… we'll be here to show you the better parts, we-"

He was cut off when she recoiled, saying, "Are there better parts, Greywulf? How would I recognize them if I discovered them? I… I just don't know if I can wait for them to come along. Just… just ignore me, Greywulf. I must seem very pitiful and wretched to moan so all the time. You must despise me."

Greywulf leaned over to comfort her, but she pulled away, walking off in sorrow to be alone. He exhaled with effort, both sympathetic and frustrated at Aerie. While he felt bad for her, he could not continually be there to hold her up when she fell. If she could not find the strength to stand... despite his reluctance, the only thing left to do was to send her back to Quayle. Something had to change soon; it couldn't continue this way.

A call from Bernard signaled his order was ready; leaving the table and heading over to the bar, he glanced over at a small crowd gathered around the main bar stools. He suppressed a smile as he spotted Minsc and Yoshimo engaging in what appeared to be a drinking contest... if it could truly be called a contest. While the small crowd around roared with laughter, Yoshimo wobbled back and forth in a daze, twelve empty glasses next to him. Minsc was looking at Yoshimo curiously, as if not understanding what Yoshimo's problem was. This was understandable, considering Minsc's thirty empty glasses beside him, still not showing so much as a wink of dizziness.

Just before Yoshimo fell off his stool completely, Greywulf turned to the other side of the bar, mostly unoccupied, except for one lone inhabitant at the very end. Jaheira sat alone, a goblet of red wine before her. It was relatively untouched, Jaheira doing more thinking than drinking. Greywulf moved over and sat beside her, thanking Bernard as he set Greywulf's food and drink before him.

"You haven't really touched your drink." Greywulf commented, before sipping his own glass. "Something wrong with it?"

"No. I just don't feel like drinking right now. Other things… important things must be considered."

Greywulf shrugged, then took a bite of his food. Another flash of lighting struck the sky; as peals of thunder followed, Jaheira sighed and broke the uncomfortable silence that had followed. "Skies are a bit gray no matter where we go, aren't they? Or perhaps it is just my mood. Yes, that must be it. No wonder, I suppose. I cannot help but…think of Reviane."

Greywulf nodded, anticipating this subject. "We did no wrong. How were we supposed to have reacted? At the very least we were able to prevent any violence. Surely that counts for something in your mind."

"It should, but it doesn't. I wish it counted for more… I just don't know." Jaheira said, looking off into space. "I begin to wish I had been wrong. It would be so much simpler. I want to believe as they do, and wish I didn't feel like I…"

Jaheira trailed off, apparently growing uncomfortable with the way the conversation was turning, but Greywulf frowned and asked, "How is it you feel, Jaheira? What is it you are saying?"

"I don't know." Jaheira said, turning to look at Greywulf, almost frantically. "I want to stay with you, but we will need to avoid my former kin. I will have to tell you about them. What if you betray… what if you turn…"

Jaheira stopped abruptly, took a deep breath and said, "I am sorry, Greywulf. I did not mean to suggest anything."

Greywulf dropped his fork beside the plate, turning to face her completely, obviously frustrated with her insinuations. "I understand just fine. You think as they do, despite what you've seen and everything you know."

Jaheira's eyes widened, growing equally frustrated, whereupon she slammed her goblet down, spilling the drink. "NO! I just… this is so damn difficult to get straight… we should… we should speak of this later. Things will be said in anger… let me be for a while, please."

She stepped away from the counter, ending the flaring of tempers. Greywulf exhaled loudly, releasing his anger with his breath. Between Aerie and Jaheira he was surprised he got any rest at all. A snicker escaped his lips as he remembered the short period of time Viconia had traveled with them, and how often she and Jaheira had butted heads. Trying to imagine the three of them getting along... he shuddered and went back to finishing his small meal and drink.

He finished and walked back over to the others, having gathered around Yoshimo and Minsc's table, the crowd long dispersed after Yoshimo had collapsed upon the floor. Eyeing Yoshimo, who was attempting to maintain his balance on the barstool while slurring what was probably an order for another ale, still drawing snickers from the bar residents, Greywulf turned to Keldorn and said, "If you don't mind, I think another pitcher of water is in order."

Keldorn grinned and grabbed a large pitcher on the bar beside them and swung it back as though preparing to drench the thief. Yoshimo abruptly scrambled to a secure seat on the bar seat, eyes wide and strikingly sober. The memory of their first meeting brought a bit of laughter, even as Keldorn poured a glass of water and handed it to Yoshimo in a small gesture of goodwill. After the small bit of humor had died down, Greywulf told them what Hendak had said; surprisingly, all were in agreement with Greywulf and wanted to go straight away. As soon as they had finalized their decision, they began gathering their equipment to leave, when Minsc looked around and said, "Wait, where is Jaheira? It is not like her to miss a meeting of the group like this."

"She's just clearing her thoughts. Probably waiting for us outside. Don't worry." Greywulf assured, though wondering her whereabouts himself.

"You go ahead. I must find my witch and inform her that we are leaving." Minsc said, standing to go see Aerie, who was by herself in the corner. As Minsc saw her, noticing her look of sorrow, he looked stricken, fearful that he had failed her in some way. Though Greywulf could not hear his words, they must have cheered her slightly, for as Minsc took hold of her hand, her face cheered, if only just slightly.

They left the Coronet after thanking Bernard and Hendak once more, and as they left the building and exited into the pouring rain once again, did indeed find Jaheira waiting outside, her head covered and hooded by the cloak she wore. "We're ready to leave, Jaheira. Hendak told us of work at the Sea's Bounty; we decided to go there now and check it out. You okay with that?"

Jaheira nodded underneath her hood, then proceeded to follow the others as they traveled through the rain, making their way to the docks district of Athkatla. Through the wind and rain they moved, silent and secret as the darkness shrouded them from most sight. They made it to the Sea's Bounty with little trouble, and entered as another crack of lightning split the sky. As the door closed behind them, they were greeted by the standard noises of a tavern, though this one seemed to be rowdier than most, if that was even possible. Walking through the crowds, looking for whatever had been awaiting them there, a voice echoed over the din of the crowds, "Jaheira, my darling, so good to see you. Won't you come sit and chat a while?"

Jaheira looked around to find the source of the call, to see a small, thin and older man standing in the corner, adorned in a long wool cape, clothes that looked as thought they had once been fine yet now patched and worn. A short sword hung by his side as well, the scabbard once new leather but now peeling and rotting. As they looked upon the man, Aerie's eyes opened wide and she whispered, "Him! I bumped into him last time we were here..."

Greywulf nodded and turned back to Jaheira, whose brow was knotted as if in deep thought, but then said, "I... I am sorry? Do I know you?"

The man looked slightly surprised, but then smiled wryly and responded, "You do not remember? Ahh, but this is understandable. It has been years since we last spoke. Far too long, really. Still, my face must bear some memory to you."

"Forgive me, but I will require a little more information. Your name again?" Jaheira asked, her face still tinged with uncertainty.

The man cleared his throat uncomfortably, apparently growing more restless, then said, "My name…is Ployer, Baron Ployer? Of the Calimshan Ployers? Come now, you must have some inkling?"

"Well…no. I am terribly sorry but your face is unfamiliar. Perhaps if you told me what you do…" Jaheira said slowly.

"My name means nothing? Nothing?! I am Baron Ployer! PLOYER! You ruined me! Not remembering is an even greater insult! You are why I am destitute today! You and your Harper kin accused me of breeding slaves in Calimshan! My businesses in Athkatla were taken! I was made a pauper and you do not even remember?!" Ployer shouted, fury in his eyes.

The din in the room quieted with the echo of his shout, but was broken by a laugh from Jaheira, the venom in her tone leaking out as she addressed him. "I remember well, but I wanted you to say it, and I wanted others to hear. Quite the outburst, Mister Ployer, I assume you are still at odds with your new life?"

Ployer's eyes burned with such hatred it seemed he would not be able to contain it, but he abruptly calmed, at least somewhat. "Arrogant wench! You…you…This is the type of insolence I was talking about! It is not enough that you ruin a man, you must also berate him, with your insults and overconfidence!"

"MISTER Ployer, I wanted you _dead_ instead of merely humiliated." Jaheira said coldly. "The courts did not seem to think death was warranted, so they claimed your assets instead. That you live in poverty is gratifying, if you must live at all! I would suggest you change your tone. I am not in a mood for giving charity to old slavers!"

"Haven't lost your fire, I see." Ployer growled. "Still a Harper? These pathetic louts part of that organization, too? That fellow Khalid you were once with was a better complement. Is he here as well?"

"He is none of your concern. Speak not his name again, if you value your teeth. You dirty it with your mouth." Jaheira retorted with a flash of anger.

Ployer did not respond, but turned to glare at Greywulf for a moment. "What about your companions, Jaheira? Do they count themselves among the Harpers as well?"

"I am not a member of the Harpers, sir," Greywulf said with irritation, already developing a severe distaste for this former slaver. "Though I'd be sorely tempted to join if it meant ridding the world of men like you."

"Perhaps I should include you in this matter then." Ployer snarled before turning back to Jaheira. "But first… Jaheira, my dear, I have not found you by accident. You ruined me, slandered my name."

"Well, the slander is going a bit far. You actually were a slaver, you know. It's not slander if it's proven." Jaheira said calmly, watching Ployer's face turn bright red, anger bubbling up inside him.

"That is beside the point!" Ployer shouted, overturning the table he stood by, mugs and dishware breaking as they smashed upon the ground. "What matters is that you ruined me... and now I'm going to ruin you!"

A flash of light shone throughout the room while three dimension doors opened, revealing three wizards who stepped out. Squinting in the flash, Greywulf could barely make out the form of one of the wizards casting a spell. As the incantations ended, a ball of green magic jumped forward and slammed into Jaheira's body, throwing her across the room into a table of bar patrons, scattering to avoid getting landed on. Minsc charged forward but was blinded again, staggering back to the rest of the group, spots flashing through his vision as he tried to locate their enemies. When the light finally dissipated to where they could see again, Jaheira had already stumbled to her feet and rejoined her comrades to find Ployer still in the same position as before, smiling widely. "What have you done to me, fiend?! Speak!"

"Just a little something I had prepared especially for you, dear Jaheira. Know that tonight I sleep in poverty so I may know you sleep in the shadow of death." Ployer said triumphantly.

"Nobody made you a slaver; you just loved the profit!" Jaheira spat as she clutched her stomach, stumbling forward as she brandished her spear. "Now you blame those that caught you because you cannot take responsibility? You are a weak, weak man!"

"Ah, but I am a weak, weak man who will live while you are a strong woman who will die." Ployer sneered. "Give my regards to Belgrade when you see him. Heh." With that, Ployer activated a dimension door of his own, disappearing from the bar, leaving the inhabitants deathly quiet at the sudden activity.

"Are you all right?" Greywulf asked Jaheira, who was looking around frantically for any sign of Ployer, barking curses furiously. "Damn him! By the Horns of Silvanus, I'll bury him beneath the Stones of Aisath if I… if I…" Jaheira's threats were cut off abruptly as she slumped to her knees, her face turning ashen quickly.

"Minsc! Carry her!" Greywulf said frantically. "Barkeep! We need a room, and fast!"

X X X X X X X

"How's she doing?" Yoshimo asked Greywulf, sitting in a chair in the room they had been given. Greywulf glanced over towards the bed where Jaheira still lay, her chest rising and falling slowly with the breaths she took. Aerie stood over her, still murmuring incantations and spells of healing in attempts to revive her.

"I don't know." Greywulf finally responded. "Everything Aerie's tried so far has been of little use. There's no obvious physical wound, but something happened to her. I've never seen a spell like that before."

"That can't be good." Yoshimo said, sitting on the floor next to Minsc, who was watching the proceedings worriedly as he scratched Boo's head.

"I don't think there's any more I can do." Aerie finally said, slumping backward. "Jaheira's been teaching me more healing techniques lately, but I don't know how to combat this. I don't even know what this is!"

"Keldorn's fetching the closest priest. He should be back within a half-hour or so." Greywulf reassured, trying to sound confident. However, his mind swirled with uncertainty and concern over Jaheira's situation. As silence seemed to envelop the room, it was broken by a soft but audible cough from the woman lying prone. Greywulf quickly rose and went to her side, to see Jaheira's eyes flutter open enough to take in her surroundings.

"Hey… it's good to see you're still with us." Greywulf said gently, kneeling by the bed.

"Ployer… Where is _-cough- _Ployer?"

"Gone." Greywulf breathed. "Be still though. A priest is on his way to try and heal you. How are you feeling right now?"

"I… I feel weak. My strength… it has left _-cough-_ me." Jaheira whispered, her voice so quiet and weak compared to the usual confidence and strength they heard from her.

"Do you have any clue as to what Ployer might have done, anything to help us?" Yoshimo asked.

"I… no. I have never felt anything… like this before." Jaheira managed, before falling back into unconsciousness.

Greywulf sat for a moment longer at her side, then rose to his feet, walking back to his chair.

"This worries me." he finally spoke. "More so that nobody recognizes the illness she suffers. I can remember a few of the incantations to the spell cast, but they belong to no particular spell I have heard."

They sat in silence for the remainder of the time until the priest arrived, whereupon he took all means necessary to examine and attempt to heal her, while her friends sat by and watched anxiously. His numerous spells and incantations did not seem to affect her in any way, but they held out hope that the priest would find a way; he had to find a way. It was a grievous blow to the party; most enemies they could fight, could confront and help each other against. This... this was intangible, an enemy they couldn't see or feel... and it was on the verge of destroying their friend.

"I've never seen anything quite like this." The priest concluded, finally standing from his labors.

"Neither have the rest of us." Greywulf offered. "What's happening to her?"

"As near as I can tell, her body… well, it's wasting away. Not like an aging spell, but it's just... it's just dying. Growing weaker and weaker until it won't function anymore. Painfully too, I might add. This is no spell; it is a curse that has been put upon her."

"Well, if it is a curse that troubles our friend, can you not cast a remove curse spell on her?" Minsc asked.

"I tried that once I determined the nature of the malady. It had no effect. That puts us into a whole new realm of danger."

"How so?" Yoshimo asked.

"For a certain price, some mages I have heard of are willing to shape customized curses for their buyers. These are attuned directly to one person, and will not harm anybody else. Of course, being that attuned causes them to be highly resistant to remove curse spells... only the shaper of the curse can remove it."

"I have heard of such curses." Keldorn said, frowning. "I had thought it made illegal to shape such things."

"This is Athkatla, City of Coin." the priest sighed. "For the right price, anybody will look the other way. What troubles me is how this was done. Such curses are extremely hard to fashion, but therein might lie your friend's only hope."

"What is it?" Aerie asked the man, who sat down and watched Jaheira.

"Well, to attune a curse to a specific person, a separate spell must be cast to do so. The process is lengthy and can take up to several days. However, once the curse is cast, it is basically irremovable. So unless your friend was foolish enough to stand still for a few days and let them attune a curse to her, the only other option is to attune it to something so close to the person, almost a part of them, so that it would transfer equally well. However, now the curse is based on the item, not the person, and if a simple dispel was put upon the item, the curse would be broken."

They looked at each other with renewed hope, and then asked, "What sort of item would we be talking here?"

The priest shrugged, then offered, "Well, anything that has a piece of... well, Jaheira, in it. A locket she carried for many years perhaps, a wedding ring, even something like a lock of hair would do."

"So if we can just find this item and dispel it, she should be fine, right?"

"Theoretically, yes." the priest said, though his expression held little hope. "I would hurry if I were you. Conventional healing spells are having no effect on her condition, more than likely a side effect of the curse. Judging by her present condition and the time lapsed between the casting and now, I'd say she's got another day before she slips into a coma. After that, her body will decay quickly enough that death will follow soon after."

"I understand." Greywulf nodded. "Is there anything you can do to help her at all?"

The priest thought for a moment longer, then pulled a long vial from his robes. "This might be of some use. It will restore her vitality, thereby warding the disease off longer and giving her back some energy. However, I only have one, and to be perfectly honest, with the curse affecting her, the potion won't do nearly what it should. It should give her back enough energy to walk around for a while, but not for fighting or anything strenuous. Just giver her a sip every time she's completely drained, and it might add on another day to the time she's got."

"Thank you, good priest." Keldorn said, bowing and handing the priest a sum of money. The man nodded and left, leaving the group with Jaheira to plan their next move.

Greywulf exhaled with an almost invisible shudder, then returned to the determined leader he needed to be. "We don't have much time, so we need to find Ployer fast. He'll be the one with the item we need."

"But how are we to find one man in such a very large city? Boo's nose is good, but not that good." Minsc objected.

"Didn't Ployer mention something about a 'Belgrade', before he left?" Yoshimo said, trying to picture the incident.

"He did, now that you mention it. Anybody know a Belgrade?" Greywulf asked.

"Bel _-cough-_ Belgrade." Jaheira murmured.

They rushed to her to find her almost unconscious again. Greywulf quickly raised the vial to her lips, whispering gently for her to drink some. After several drops passed into her mouth, Greywulf pulled the vial back and saw that the vial was almost half drained after only such a small amount being drunk. However, he quickly put the vial away and noticed with great pleasure the change in Jaheira. Her breathing deepened and some measure of color returned to her pale face. Her eyes opened again, once more filled with the strength they had come to know and respect.

"What… what has happened?" Jaheira said, sitting up quickly, but slowing down halfway in obvious discomfort.

"Be careful. This is only temporary. You should have enough energy to walk around and help us search for Ployer for a couple of hours, but no more. After that, you'll need another dose of this potion."

Jaheira listened, then nodded, accepting her fate. "How much potion do we have left?"

Greywulf sighed, but attempted to sound hopeful, saying, "Enough. We'll find Ployer before it's gone, and we'll remove the curse."

Greywulf explained everything the priest had said, but Jaheira could think of nothing Ployer could have of hers to put such a curse upon her.

"Our only lead then is Belgrade." Greywulf said. "Jaheira, do you know who Ployer was speaking of when he mentioned Belgrade?"

"Yes... he was involved in the trial of Baron Ployer. Few were willing to testify against his crimes of slave running, for fear of the influence his money could buy. Khalid and I were the two key witnesses; Belgrade was our main contact in Calimshan when we hunted him down. Our testimonies were key in bringing him to justice."

"How can we find him? If Ployer mentioned him, he could be suffering the same fate you are right now." Keldorn said.

"Perhaps… Bernard. Yes, Bernard is the only one who might know where he is." Jaheira said after a pause.

"Bernard? You mean Bernard from the Copper Coronet?" Yoshimo asked incredulously. "Why would he know anything about this mess?"

"Besides the fact that barkeeps hear much more than people give them credit for," Jaheira said with a stifled cough, "Bernard was not always a simple barkeep. He was once a Harper informant, and was good friends with Belgrade. If Belgrade has been anywhere in Athkatla lately, Bernard will know."

"Then we should get there as quickly as possible." Greywulf concluded. "Let's go."

X X X X X X X

Imoen looked around once more to make sure nobody was approaching her cell, then sat cross-legged once more, beginning her meditations to reach into the outside world. A smile crept across her face as she sensed the things of the world she had been missing, the breeze, the sun, grass… she allowed herself to fall deeper and deeper into the trance of her magic, slowly taking in all she had been longing for. A hint of a smile, tugged at her mouth as she concentrated, relief flooding her body- she suddenly heard a throat clearing from outside her cell. Shocked back into reality, she whirled about to see Irenicus standing outside her cell, arms folded with a nasty smile. "So… it's true then. I had my doubts, but it seems all is as it appears."

"I…" Imoen could think of no words to say, sure that her attempts at storing magic for an escape had been uncovered. She remained silent and merely watched her captor with fearful eyes.

"Bodhi said you were growing strong enough to be turned, and it appears you are. I was certain you would never become anything more than an empty shell without hope, but Bodhi has done fine work. Your strength has been restored, your figure, and your magical talent."

Imoen remained quiet, but she knew the truth behind his words. Bodhi's treatment of her had been much better than at Irenicus' hands, if only to nurse her back to health to prepare her for vampirism. She was no longer skin and bones and muscle, but she had begun to fill out again. The work she did every day had kept her fit and trimmed, her muscles stronger than ever. "Since Bodhi has you busy continuing your meditations, I shall leave you to your work. How I look forward to seeing Bodhi's final result with you."

Imoen waited almost a minute after Irenicus had left before she sighed, almost collapsing in fear and relief at her luck. She was sure she had been caught, but Irenicus had merely assumed her magical exercises were part of Bodhi's training. She would have to be more careful. If caught, she didn't want to know what Bodhi... or worse, Irenicus might do.

X X X X X X X

"How are you feeling?" Greywulf asked Jaheira with a quick glance at her, the group finally reaching the Coronet despite the slower travel time to accommodate Jaheira.

"Just as good as I was two minutes ago, when you asked me before. I am not a child that requires constant attention and nurturing, Greywulf." Jaheira said, trying to hide the growing weakness in her voice.

"Sorry." Greywulf said, somewhat embarrassed. "I'm just not used to seeing you this way, you know? You've always been the strong one of the group, taking charge even when it wasn't needed."

"Or wanted?" Jaheira asked in an attempt at a slightly mocking tone.

"Well… yes. That too. But in all seriousness, I just want to make sure you stay safe. If you need more of this potion, we've got more."

"But not 'enough,' as you said." Jaheira countered. "I will make do, and I will let you know when I need more. Worrying needlessly will only make things worse... we should find Bernard and end this as quickly as possible."

Greywulf nodded, and opened the door for the others as they headed inside. As they walked inside, Keldorn looked around and said somewhat disapprovingly, "Yes. Exactly the way we left it the last time we were here. In fact, I believe this same pool of vomit was here before as well."

Peering at the puddle Keldorn had pointed out, Minsc said, "No, no. Boo distinctly remembers the vomit from last time being brown with red chunks. This is green with orange chunks. A different sort altogether."

Aerie looked at Minsc with a half-sickened expression, then stuck her tongue out in disgust as they moved to the bar, Bernard still washing the table as he was usually found doing.

"Oh! Why 'ello there, one and all." Bernard greeted. "I see you've all come back for another visit. What can I do for you? I'm afraid Hendak isn't here at the moment, off on some errand, but I'll do whatever I can."

"Bernard, I need some information." Jaheira said hoarsely, stepping up to the large man.

"Well, Miss Jaheira, anything for- Hold on one second. What's the matter with you? You look like you've seen a ghost, you're so pale. These folks here been running you around too hard? If so, I'll have them fishing without a net in the harbor-" Bernard's indignation was cut off by a cough from Jaheira, who quickly interrupted and said, "No, please, I will be fine. I need to know where Belgrade is."

"Belgrade?" Bernard repeated, looking worried. "Oh no. I knew it would happen. You Harpers have gone and angered some god or something, and you all-"

"Please." Jaheira tried again.

Bernard sighed, then looked down despondently. "Belgrade's dead, Miss Jaheira."

Her eyes flashed open in shock. "What? When?"

"About a day or two ago. I was running the bar like usual, when all of a sudden Belgrade comes in here, sickly looking to death. A lot like you, I fear. I'd heard he was back in town, and was hoping he would visit. But he didn't seem like chatting at all, he just started popping questions, asking about that rascal Baron Ployer. I told him I haven't heard of the man as of late, so he slams his fist down, ranting about how he knows he's close. The guy stumbles out in a coughing fit, and I don't see him again. Leastways not till the day after. A couple of folks found him dead down in the deepest part of the slums. No wounds or visible cause of death, just collapsed and died."

"I… I see." Jaheira said, somewhat shaken by the account of her friend's death.

"All right, what's going on here?" Bernard asked, his voice thick with worry as he stepped from around the bar to place on hand on her shoulder. "First Belgrade, now you, Miss Jaheira. I don't want to be losing two friends in a week."

"I need to find Baron Ployer... he was waiting for us at the Sea's Bounty. You remember him, an enemy of the Harpers; Belgrade and I both opposed him. He's cursed me, and from your description, he did the same to Belgrade."

"I fear I haven't heard anything of him lately. He's sure not welcome in here leastways... you mean he was the one who had it be known there was a job for you at the Bounty?" Bernard asked, eyes narrowing in anger. "If I see him I'll show him the short end of a long club... I... I'm sorry, I haven't seen him. But I'll keep my ears open. Is there anything else I can do?" Bernard asked.

Greywulf, noticing Jaheira slowly growing more unsteady, piped up, "A room, if you don't mind. And some food."

Bernard grinned as he hurried back around the bar to gather a few things. "No problems there. Seeing as you folks have made this little inn your base of operations so many times in the past, Hendak has reserved a room for you at all times, whenever you drop by. As for the food, I'll send some right up. Here's the key."

"Thank you Bernard." Jaheira said, managing a weak smile, before stumbling off to the rooms with the aid of her friends.

"You take care of yourself, Miss Jaheira... too many people care about you for you to kick off now, all right?" he called as he began to prepare some food for her. She flashed him a weak smile as they continued up the stair, Bernard smiling sadly as he watched Greywulf and Minsc supporting her as they went. "A lot of people care about you, Miss Jaheira... and that's the honest truth."


	41. Part 2: Realizations

_Author's Note: Well, I finally got around to putting Chapter names up. Some were done kind of late at night, so if any of them look or sound ridiculous/funny/don't make sense in general, feel free to let me know. Once more, a huge thank you to everyone who has read and especially reviewed so far; any advice, constructive criticsm, all of it is welcomed and appreciated. Also, how am I doing as far as posting time goes? Am I posting too quickly, or is the pace I usually keep pretty good? I sometimes post new chapters fairly fast, so I just wanted to make sure I'm not moving too quickly._

_Like I said, thank you to anybody reading this! _

_Yours truly,_

_Capt. Incredible_

The dark brown paint on the walls of the inn room was only faintly peeling, the furniture fairly new and mostly intact. There were few stains on the carpet, and any unknown smells or otherwise unpleasant anemnities were well covered or repaired. Overall, one of the best rooms the Copper Coronet had to offer... though that was still not saying much. Still, the sight of the lumpy and sleep-depriving bed was a relief to the suffering druid, even if she never would have admitted it to anyone.

Whether by principle or just to keep up appearances, Jaheira shook her head and pushed Minsc and Greywulf's arms away from her as she sat down on the bed, trying unsuccesfully to stifle another fit of coughing, the expulsions of air racking her lungs and rubbing her throat raw with the effort. "Please... this is completely unnecessary. We must-"

"Unnecessary?" Greywulf interrupted, one eyebrow raised. "_We_ need a new plan, some way to track down Ployer. _You_ need to do everything possible to get your strength back. A comfortable bed will be much better than a hard wooden chair with old beer stains."

"Indeed." Keldorn said with firm gentleness, aiding her as she discarded her armor, setting the plate mail and her spear at the foot of the bed so she could lay down in some measure of comfort. "You will fare better here in privacy than in the company of drunkards and brawlers."

Jaheira leaned back on the bed, too tired and worn to protest any further; even Minsc's gentle efforts in covering her with the blankets on the bed earned little more than a half-hearted glare at the care they were taking of her. Still, she would be lying if she didn't admit that it was touching to see just how much the others cared about her. Greywulf nodded in satisfaction, making sure she was comfortable, then turned to the others. "Any ideas? We don't have much time... we need to find Ployer fast."

"He could be anywhere in the city... how can we find him in time?" Aerie asked.

"No, not anywhere." Keldorn shook his head slowly, ideas running through his head as a smile of realization crept onto his face. "Perhaps we can narrow it down a bit."

"How so?" Jaheira asked, sitting up with piqued curiosity.

"Belgrade said he was looking for Ployer, and knew he was somewhere near when he talked to Bernard. This inn is in the slums and that's where his body was found, as though he was looking around to find Ployer here." Keldorn pointed out. "One only needs to put two and two together; surely he hides in the Slums, somewhere."

Yoshimo sighed, glancing out the window at the District, sprawling outside the window, the constant cries and echoing sounds of the Slums filtering in as it did with every place in the area. "All well and good, but the slums are the largest district in Athkatla. Searching house by house would take days at the very least; surely there must be a way of narrowing our search even further."

The small glimmer of hope Keldorn's idea had sparked was brought low as Yoshimo's words sent them crashing back to reality; their chances of saving Jaheira were, honestly, not good. Less than a day left before her time was up; Greywulf clenched his fist as his mind thudded with barely suppressed panic. The more he tried to calm himself and think of a solution, the more it seemed he lost control, being forced to watch helplessly as Jaheira grew weaker and sicker, finally dying in a manner totally unbefitting and unworthy of the woman he cared about so much-

"Ooh... Boo has an idea." the ranger interupted them all. "Perhaps the tricky mages with the evil Ployer could tell us where he hides?"

"A reasonable idea, Minsc." Yoshimo nodded. "Since all magic activity is regulated by the Cowled Wizards, perhaps we can find out just who these mages are and get some information from them."

"Does anybody remember what they looked like, or will we have to speak with every mage listed?" Keldorn frowned.

"I vaguely remember something like a blue stripe on the edges of the robes." Greywulf said, brow knit in thought. "Anybody else care to back me up on that?"

Aerie nodded in agreement, frowning as she added, "And a... a hammer crossed with a sword on one of the robes as well."

"That's settled then. If we hurry, we can make it to the government district in a little more than an hour, right Yoshimo?" Greywulf said as everyone gathered their equipment, preparing to set out.

"Correct. We talked with a Cowled Wizard representative the last time we were at the Government Hall. He should have the information we seek."

"Then let us not waste time! When the life of a friend is at stake, Minsc and Boo are first into action!" The large ranger stood up and strode out of the room, leaving the others watching the door swing open.

Greywulf sighed and shook his head. "Aerie, you and Yoshimo go with him and make sure he stays out of too much trouble. Keldorn, perhaps you should go as well; your status as a member of the Order of the Radiant Heart might grant some weight in getting our information."

"What about you?" Aerie queried as Yoshimo and Keldorn paused at the door, watching as Jaheira attempted to push herself out of the bed, Greywulf sitting beside her.

"I'm staying here with Jaheira. She's definitely not going, and somebody has to be here with her."

"Greywulf! I must-" Jaheira's protests were cut off by Greywulf, who shushed her and said, "Not happening, Jaheira. We do it my way this time; some things are more important. The rest of you better get going."

Keldorn nodded and led the others out, leaving the mage and the druid together as Jaheira reluctantly, but with a great deal of unspoken relief, lay back down, coughing just slightly as she tried to calm her rebellious body. For a while, it seemed to work, her coughs ceased and silence filled the room between the two. The room remained quiet for almost a half-hour, neither really looking at each other, but the worry and strain in the room was obvious to anyone watching.

Jaheira glanced up, catching him in her vision as she lay there quietly. It was strange; looking at him here, standing over her like a guardian, vigilant for any threat that might trouble her while she was so incapable. It was quite a familiar situation, truth be told... even if the situations were reversed. How many times in the past, in the first several weeks of watching over him and Imoen had this been the case, patching the young man up after some foolhardy injury; staying at camp with him while Khalid and Imoen would go out into the forest and gather their wood or food for the day. For someone training to be a sorcerer, he had a very weak grasp of protective spells, at least before he had met Dynaheir.

Her eyes drifted upward to him, settling on his face as he looked around the room, doing a terrible job of hiding the nervousness apparent in his features. At another time it might have been demeaning, borderline condescending for her. But here... she had known him for too long, shared too many experiences and battles with him at her side for this to be so uncomfortable for her. Not that she liked the feeling, or even felt she needed a watcher, no; were they doing things her way she would be out there with the others right now, rather than wasting time in bed, not even resting as the curse prevented her body from healing. But like he said... they were doing it his way this time. And allowing herself the slightest hint of a smile, she found that she was okay with that.

A sudden fit of coughing caught her off guard; her body shook as she abruptly sat up, the explusions of air sounding worse and worse each time as Greywulf turned back to her with worry in his eyes. "Jaheira? Are you-"

"I will be fine." she managed, settling back down. She was okay with doing things his way... but that didn't mean he needed to know that.

Still, suppressing the weariness that continued to plague her body, she considered the concern in his voice. He had been at her side through everything they had undergone since being captured by Irenicus, never abandoning her or giving up on the druid. The words they had interchanged before this whole mess with Ployer ran through her mind, remembering the fury and anger in either side. It wasn't something she was necessarily proud of; but she had never been one to hide her thoughts or feelings. With danger so near and imminent... it made no sense to start now.

Greywulf caught her movement out of the corner of his eye, turning to see the druid raise herself up on elbow. "Is there something you need? I can get Bernard to bring some food or water up, if you need it."

"No... nothing like that." she shook her head. "I just... _'ahem'_, I wanted to say thank you for staying with me here; I may not seem appreciative, but I suppose I am just not used to this kind of thing."

"No trouble at all," Greywulf replied easily; one thing Jaheira did not take kindly to was condescension; cursed or not, she would let him know if he slipped into that kind of tone. "Besides, I'm sure the others can manage a little information gathering without either of us."

"True enough." she agreed, noting with a hint of disappointment that he didn't seem inclined to bring up their previous argument, the contents of which still nagged at her. Things had come out wrong... and there was no time like the present. "This… this may be a bad time or not, but I think we should speak."

"Very well." Greywulf responded, turning to her. "What is it?"

"I wished to apologize for our argument before. If Ployer ends up… well, I didn't want the last meaningful talk we had before I die to have ended in shouting at each other. I wanted… I wanted you to know why I cannot speak of the Harpers with you. There is much harm I could do."

Greywulf nodded, then countered, "Jaheira, this is not a question of harm; it never has been. It is a question of trust; trusting me to be the man I've promised to be since the day you met me. I have no intention of changing, no intention of becoming Sarevok. Every time I consider how much power my taint might give me, I think of him, and I think of where his power lead him. His friends, his lover, everyone he might have had cause to trust in or depend on had fled by the end, the only ones still by his side were those who wanted the power he could give. I think of that kind of life and I shudder, Jaheira. Trust me when I say I will never be like him."

"I do trust you, Greywulf... but I do not trust myself." Jaheira said, the words coming more slowly now. "I am no traitor... not to you, and not to my Harper kin, of that I am sure. But… but what am I if I must hide from my brethren? What am I then?"

Greywulf tried to calm the increasingly agitated woman, but she continued, pushing herself up with a modicum of effort. "If I am in the right, why must I tell their secrets and their weaknesses? If I am in the right, why must I hide... hide from those I called friend and kin?"

Just as abruptly, Jaheira seemed to calm, coughing slightly as she murmured, exhausted as she sank back down into the bed, "I... I do not have the answers for these questions. As much as I have tried to solve these things, tried to resolve it in my mind and in my actions, I cannot. I feel so powerless, and it worries me."

"That you are worried shows you care for all involved."

"Yes, but can I, truly?" Jaheira wondered. "There is no middle ground; I am heading for an extreme of either end. With you at least the choice is mine. It is, isn't it?"

Greywulf shrugged and said, "Who am I to judge? The least I can do is offer you the same as you offer me."

Jaheira listened, letting her eyes flutter closed with a brief smile. "I thank you for this. It helps... it does."

X X X X X X X

"Perhaps you did not understand us correctly." Minsc rumbled, stepping closer to tower over the man before him in the Government Hall. It had taken them an hour or so to get there, another to track down Corneil, the Cowled Wizard's representative in the Government hall, and he was now saying he couldn't give out any such information without a suitable 'donation' to the Cowled Wizards. Needless to say, Minsc's patience was beginning to wear thin. The ranger's eyes narrowed as he stared down Corneil; Minsc had tried the diplomatic solution to begin with, and it had failed miserably. Therefore, Minsc decided to go with plan B: intimidation. "We need to know where these mages are, and very quickly. If you cannot cooperate, Minsc will grow angry. You would not like me when I am angry. Boo knows this for a fact. Ask him if you do not believe me. There, see? Even Boo threatens much hamster violence if you do not relinquish your information. See how he sharpens his claws? Boo will call his fellow Space Hamsters, and then you will understand his power."

"Threats will get you nowhere here, ruffian." Corneil sniffed. "Do you think I am afraid of you? If you so much as lay a hand on me, the city guards will have you arrested and executed."

"This is important. Just tell us what we need to know and we'll leave you alone." Keldorn pressured. "Surely you bear some respect for the Radiant Heart-"

"Bah! Your collection of knights and do-gooders mean nothing to me. The Cowled Wizards hold true power here, not your Order. I have given my terms; either pay up, or leave!"

The group turned to discuss for a second, talking in whispered tones. "We can't pay the money he wants... the amount is far too exorbitant for us to have any chance of rescuing Imoen should we give up the gold." Yoshimo put forth.

"But who else can we talk to?" Aerie protested. "Jaheira won't last much longer... most likely Greywulf's already had to give her the rest of the vial. If that's true, we've only a few more hours left."

"I agree. Perhaps we can settle on a deal with him, maybe lower the amount?" Keldorn offered, Minsc exhaling in exasperation, though the ranger did an excellent job of hiding it as he turned around, an obviously forced smile plastered on his face.

The ranger kept the grin in place as he sideled up next to the suspicious Corneil, laying one hand on his shoulder, his tone cheerful as he spoke, "Perhaps we can come to a new agreement. Boo suggests we all might get what we want if the price was lowered somewhat. Perhaps half? Boo would concede to half."

He laughed rudely, turning a haughty glare on the ranger towering beside him. and said, "No, fool... the full amount, or you'll get nothing from me."

Minsc's eyes flared with that statement, the muscles in his arm tensing. Unfortunately, that just happened to cause his hand to contract as well, squeezing a particular bundle of nerves in Corneil's neck. The man's eyes rolled back as he dropped like a stone, completely unconscious.

The group looked at Minsc in disbelief, who shrugged helplessly; after looking around to make sure no one had noticed the quick collapse, they propped the man up against a bookcase, then hurried out as quickly as possible.

"He'll never give us what we need now, if he even wakes up in time to do so." Keldorn said gruffly, scolding the sheepish ranger as they entered the outside park of the Governemnt District once again. Even as Keldorn led them on in a huff, Aerie whispered to Minsc, "You did that on purpose, didn't you."

Minsc didn't get a chance to answer; blocking their path was a man clad in very familiar mage robes. "Ah, so here you are. I was wondering when you'd come out of there."

"You… you were one of the mages that cursed Jaheira!" Yoshimo said in astonishment, his hand going straight to his katana.

"No need for that, at least not yet." the man waved Yoshimo's weapon down. "Unless you are the ones to start an altercation, I have no intention of fighting here. I assume you're looking for the location of my employer, the 'esteemed' Baron Ployer? I might be able to help you with that."

"Why would you help us?" Aerie asked suspiciously. "I don't trust you."

"Perhaps we should listen to what he has to say." Keldorn said calmly. "Right now, he's our only real hope of finding the man."

"I see someone here has sense." The man said with a smile. "In exchange for say, 2000 gold pieces, you'll get the location of Ployer, as well as my assurance that my mages will not interfere with your battle. He has paid us to aid him when you eventually discover where he hides, and this would assure our uninvolvement."

"Interesting. What do you gain from this, double-crossing your employer?" Keldorn frowned.

"Besides the obvious gold, I despise Ployer." the mage said with an exasperated sigh. "Always barking orders, still envisioning himself as the high and mighty Baron of Calimshan. He's barely a penny to his name now, but he's still as arrogant as anything. My fellow mages feel the same way... if there's one thing I can't tolerate, it's unwarranted pride. Thus, here we are. If you worry a similar double-cross against you, believe me when I say Ployer has nothing to convince us to renege on this particular deal."

"I'm inclined to accept, but the 2000 gold presents a problem." Keldorn said. "We're already short 2000 gold for a venture of our own, and doubling our deficit is a most unwelcome thought."

"Sorry, but for the risk we're taking to our reputation, double-crossing a paying customer, we can't really lower- wait." The man said, then stopped and smiled craftily. "Perhaps there's a way we can make this work to double our advantages. Care to listen?"

"Go on."

"The last real item of value Ployer has is a sword, encrusted with jewels on the hilt, runes on the blade, a tinge of gold inlaid on the handle. A magnificent weapon. However, it's true value is in the magic of the weapon. Powerful spells have been cast upon the blade, and I would give most anything to own it. However, he has hidden it in his house somewhere, and it is concealed to where not even I can find it. If you can persuade him to give you the sword, then meet me back here when it's all over and give the sword to me, I will waive the 2000 gold fee. In fact, I'll give you 2000 pieces to finish whatever endeavor you are working on."

"The sword is worth that much?" Yoshimo asked, doubtful. "Surely you jest."

"Oh, it is worth much more, but only a powerful mage could truly benefit from it's real worth. What say you?"

Keldorn looked at the others, who nodded, Aerie saying, "This could be our chance to finally get what we need."

"Saving two friends at once?! Ah, but there could be nothing better!" Minsc laughed, a hearty grin on his face as he grabbed the wizard by the hand, shaking it a little too vigorously for the mage's tastes. "We accept!"

X X X X X X X

The old, tired man stalked back and forth in the ruined shack someone had seen fit to call a house; the roof leaked and the walls were infested with rodents and vermin of all kinds. In another time, almost another life, the man would not have stood for it; no, someone would probably have been executed for the indignity of letting him stay in such a rat-hole. His quarters would have- no, should have been, finely furnished with exotic curtains covering the full length windows, dozens upon dozens of silk and other fine cloth robes, stacked in abundance where he could sort through those he found acceptable to wear. There should have been servants cowering at his feet and ready to meet his every request through the day's length and even when he was asleep, just in case he awoke and desired something. Food of exotic delicacies suiting his every want would have been at his platter every meal, never leaving him unsatisfied.

A smile began to creep onto his face as he drowned himself in his memories and fantasies; entire harems of women at his beck and call, slaves who feared him more than death. Power and gold in abundance, the influence to shape worlds and lives, along with the indomitable will that had brought him so far in the first place. He had been young, strong, powerful, and absolutely untouchable; no guard or politician in Calimshan would dare take action against him. The last one with any sort of backbone who had tried to oppose him had ended up the unfortunate victim of an accident at sea, sailing to Kara-Tur. Nobody had seen him fall of the boat... but nobody questioned the explanation. Everyone knew the truth, and knew what their fate would be should they attempt similar heroics.

Absolutely untouchable... _"Nobody is untouchable, Ployer... especially you."_

Those impudent words sent his fantasies crashing back to the ground, bringing the miserable conditions he was currently in back to reality. He snarled a curse, pushing a nearby wreck of a table to the ground in frustration. _Damn the Harpers; damn them all. _Thanks to them, he was penniless, nearing old age with nothing to show for all his work and ambitions. He could barely fight now; his swordsmanship having atrophied through the long years he had spent just trying to survive. The once mighty Baron Ployer, reduced to... to an undignified existence with the worms and dregs of society, forced to scrounge a living and save his coppers for years to accomplish this last act of revenge on his part.

It had looked like such an easy problem; a few incidents here and there with small break-ins and sightings of unauthorized intruders on his properties. He hadn't been worried, the information stored at each site detailing the slave trade he ran had remained intact and secure, a few gold pieces or items had turned up missing from each site. Thieves, he had assumed, waving it off with a slight increase in security. What did those few things matter? He was Baron Ployer, ruler of the slave trade in Calimshan; anyone who was anyone had connections with him, and he had the proof. Nobody was out of his pocket... except those meddlesome Harpers. The one organization of influence he had never been quite able to buy a portion of influence in. That one day, sitting in his private office, enjoying the fruits of his enterprise...

_The heavy oak double doors across the room shattered and crumpled to the ground, the sound of battle echoing outside abruptly. Ployer stood in alarm, planting his hands on his desk as he squinted, trying to see through the smoke and dust obscuring the doorway..._

_The body of one of his door guards stumbled backward through the smoke, a two-handed sword stuck through his stomach as he finally sank to the ground. Out from the fog strode three figures, each one bearing a weapon of sorts, heavily armored with grim looks on their faces. Two half-elves, along with one human. "Who are you?!" Ployer roared, his eyes blazing in fury._

_"It matters little to you, slave master." Kurtesh growled, the balding warrior gripping his blade as he yanked it out of the guard who had died seconds before. "The slave trade in Calimshan is through; and so are you."_

_"We give you fair warning, Ployer..." Khalid spoke firmly to the raging man before them, "Surrender now and remain unharmed."_

_"By all means, resist." Jaheira shot a withering glare at Ployer, even as Khalid glanced at her wryly, still unused to the fire in the druid he had been working with. "It won't make up for all the evil you've done, but it'll make me feel a lot better."_

_"Who the hell do you think you are?!" Ployer screamed, pounding one hand on the desk before him, even as his other hand slid under the desk, gripping a weapon hidded underneath. "I am Baron Ployer!! I own this city; you can't touch me! Nobody can!!"_

_"Nobody is untouchable, Ployer... especially you." Jaheira said darkly, raising her quarterstaff higher. "We'll prove that in a moment..."_

_Ployer's arm was a blur as he raised the one that had been hidded underneath the desk, a crossbow in it. He launched the bolt, his target never seeing the danger. The sound of metal piercing metal echoed as the bolt buried itself past Kurtesh's plate mail, deep in his chest. The former gladiator stumbled backwards, his eyes wide in disbelief as he dropped to the ground, breathing ragged and disjointed. A second bolt spat out towards Khalid, but the half-elf had no intention of befalling the same fate as Kurtesh; his shield deflected it, even as Jaheira raced forward, pushing Ployer back as she swung out, striking the weapon from his hand. Just as quickly, Ployer's other hand slid a long sword from his side, sending it down onto Jaheira's quarterstaff. _

_She grunted as it pushed her away, completely taken by surprise at the strength of the man. His eyes were wide with a maddened fury that bordered on a berserker rage; even when Khalid came from behind to attack, he swung around, driving the warrior back. Khalid had come a bit too fast and hasty, Ployer parried the blade and past Khalid's shield, striking his shoulder in one fell swoop. He fell back in pain, leaving Jaheira alone against the frenzied slaver, a flurry of swings keeping her at bay. Just like that, Kurtesh and Khalid both out of the fight; his swordsmanship was too great; even as she dodged his continual attacks, she could feel the weight of carrying on alone weighing on her; needing aid so badly to keep up-_

_A surprise attack came from above, Jaheira's quarterstaff moving up a hair slow to block- a glowing orb of magic struck Ployer's hand, sending the sword flying from his grasp. "Enough!!"_

_Ployer looked up in rage, his red eyes searching past the half-elf to find the source; Gorion stood at the door, his cloak and wizard robes billowing out behind him as he strode in. Bri was at Kurtesh's body along with Aritolcus, the bard and rogue attempting to keep the warrior from death as Gorion stepped ever closer. Ployer screamed in rage and lashed out with his fist, knocking Jaheira away as he made a mad dash towards Gorion, the wizard's stern gaze never leaving, unflinching as the man bore down on him. Weaponless, Gorion raised both hands, waving out to the side; three broken chairs flew from different sides of the room, slamming into Ployer and knocking him to the ground. _

_Even as he tried to regain his footing, another set of incantations came from the archmage, this time a wave of magic that blew Ployer across the room, flat on his back. Still the man got back up, unwilling to yield as he screamed obscenities and curses, speeding towards Gorion once again-_

_Something swung out and cracked across the back of his head as he ran, sending him to the ground. He rolled a number of times, his brain fogging as he slowly lost consciousness... the last thing he saw was Jaheira standing over him, her quarterstaff in one hand._

The memory still burned deeply within Ployer's mind along with the hatred he bore for her, Khalid, Gorion, all who had been so instrumental on bringing him down. He still remembered the trial with such clarity, watching with venom as those two Harpers had taken the stand, spitting accusations against him, them and that mongrel Belgrade. He had been dealt with... Jaheira would be next. That thought brought a smile to Ployer's craggy face, the man finally making his way over to the lone chair in his 'house'. He prepared to sit- the sound of voices echoed outside his paper thin door, not even fitting properly in the frame. He recognized the racking coughs; it sounded just like Belgrade, as Ployer had taunted him in that alleyway where he met his end...

A crash echoed through the house as his door splintered before him, eerily similar to that first meeting with the Harpers. This time, the source was quite a bit more visible. The big ranger had lowered his shoulder and physically rammed through the door, clearing the way for the others to follow, all six of their number looking grim, determined, and very, very pissed.

Still, no amount of anger could stop the look of triumph that spread across his face as he saw Jaheira, leaning on her spear with worn and tired features. "Please... come in. I've been waiting for you."

"De... despicable wretch!" Jaheira spat, her glare firmly fixed on Ployer. "You... you will pay for what you've done!"

"You're still able to talk?" he said in mock surprise. "You're doing much better than Belgrade did. He would have collapsed and died by now. Trust me... I watched him when his miserable life finally gave out."

Jaheira tried to respond, but all that escaped was a low voiced murmur, one final attempt at cursing him. She dropped to one knee, her strength ebbing away rapidly. "That's enough, Ployer!" Keldorn roared. "She can barely stand; you will hand over the item you used to curse her now!"

"Perhaps..." he sneered, confident in the knowledge of what was soon to come. "I might, if she'll beg for it. Yes, some begging might just persuade me."

"You try our patience." Yoshimo hissed, raising one arrow to his bow as he drew it back. "Believe me when I say you would do well to give up before Minsc loses control."

"Things aren't always as they seem though." Ployer snarled, drawing his own short sword. "Prepare to die, all of you!" Drawing his blade, that was the signal for his wizards to attack. Seconds ticked by, Ployer's confident smirk rapidly shrinking as he noticed nobody was forthcoming. "Er... now!! Appear! Attack; smite them!!"

Ployer's head whipped back and forth, looking desperately for his aid, even as Yoshimo lowered his bow and stroked his chin, tsking condescendingly. "Ah, the problem with hired help. Totally undependable. A better deal comes along, and they just drop any previous loyalties."

The import of his words rang through Ployer's mind, shattering his confidence and nerve, his eyes wide in terror. "No! You can't- I planned this for too long to..."

"Now that it's just you, care to go a few rounds?" Greywulf offered, raising his weapon.

Ployer backed up, dropping the short sword he had been holding. "That's what I thought." Greywulf nodded. "Hand over the item you used to curse Jaheira, and I might consider letting you live."

Ployer's eyes flashed with a mixture of hatred and fear, and with trembling hands pulled a box from his pocket. Opening it he displayed a small but long lock of hair braided tightly; he tossed it to Greywulf who caught it, examined it, then glanced back at the old man with a frown. "You wouldn't lie to us, would you Ployer?"

"No! No, it's the truth! Cast the dispel on it, you'll see." Ployer hastily insisted.

Greywulf cocked his head to one side briefly, then motioned to Minsc. "Minsc, go over there with our new friend in case this doesn't work, eh?"

Minsc's face opened in a malicious grin, and so he walked over to the shaking man, cracking his knuckles as he went. Greywulf tried not to laugh, then hurriedly began an incantation, culminating in a silver flash enveloping the hair. The lock glowed red briefly, then died out. As it did so, Jaheira, being supported by Keldorn, glowed briefly herself; with a slight hiss, a green fog seemed to leave her body. Jaheira seemed to grow almost, her body rejuvenating itself as the tainting curse left her.

The disgust in Ployer's eyes at the sight was obvious, but fear came back quickly as Greywulf turned back to Ployer, looking at him as if deciding. "Well, well, well. It seems you were telling the truth after all. I commend you on your honesty, really I do; it's a rarity these days. Minsc... go ahead and kill him."

Ployer's eyes nearly bulged out of his head at the pronouncement, Minsc stepping closer. "But… you said you'd let me live if I gave you-"

Greywulf sighed in mock exasperation and turned to Yoshimo. "Now that's another problem with people, don't you think? They don't listen. I said I'd CONSIDER letting him live. That's totally different than the actual act of letting him continue his miserable existence."

Just as Minsc's large hands reached the man's neck, Greywulf turned and said, "Although… no, never mind. Perhaps not."

"What? What is it? I'll do any _-ack-_ thing." Ployer pleaded as Minsc lifted him up by his throat.

"I hear tell that you have a certain sword in your possession." Greywulf said, looking around the room. "A mighty expensive one at that."

"My sword? Go on, take it." Ployer choked out, gesturing to the short sword on the ground.

Greywulf laughed and said, "Please, you may hate us, but don't treat us like idiots. You know which sword I mean; your wizard 'friends' told us all about it. Gold inlay on the handle, runes on the blade, jewels on the hilt; any of that ring a bell?"

Ployer kept silent, but his silence was enough proof. "So you do know where it is. Tell you what, give us the sword, and I promise we will let you live. Sound fair?" Greywulf offered.

Ployer's face contorted, though Greywulf couldn't tell whether it was from anger or the slow lack of air Minsc's grip was providing. "All… right." Ployer whispered, despondent.

Greywulf gestured, and Minsc dropped Ployer, who crawled to his feet slowly, rubbing his neck. He pulled a small gemstone from his pocket, and with a furious glare, whispered a word. The stone rose and illuminated a certain section of wall; the paneling slid away, revealing the sword that they had spoke of. Ployer took the blade from it's resting place and grudgingly handed it to Yoshimo, who took the blade with a flourish and bow.

"Well, this has been fun, but we've appointments to keep and such, so we'll be taking our leave now." Greywulf said, motioning for them to leave. Keldorn began to help Jaheira out the door, as Ployer muttered under his breath, "You may have won, but I swear one day-"

Without warning and all pretenses of jesting, humor, or mockery gone, Greywulf roared and swung back to Ployer, pushing his staff into the man's chest and against the wall with a painful thud. "One day you will do nothing! Listen very carefully, Ployer. I never want to see you again. If I see your face again anywhere, in a bar, on the street, helping orphans at the local homeless shelter, _I don't care… _I will kill you. Have I made myself clear?"

Ployer nodded, sweat rolling down his red face. Greywulf pulled his staff away and strode back to the others, joining them in their exit.

As they walked away, still continuing to aid Jaheira's walk, she slowly grew steadier, beginning to regain a measure of her former strength. "Are we feeling better? If not I would be more than pleased to continue to lend my arm for your support-" Yoshimo asked, unable to hide the joy all felt at Jaheira's recovery behind his jesting.

"I'm better, trust me." Jaheira said with a wry but weak smile, trying to stand properly as she pushed away from Yoshimo. "The curse is gone, that much I can feel. But I still feel completely drained. I could use a night's rest."

"I imagine." Greywulf said. "We should get back to the Coronet, and stay there for the rest of the evening and night. In the morning, we'll get this sword to the mages, collect our money, and with any luck, be on our way to rescuing Imoen. Altogether, quite a good day, I should think."

Before they entered, Greywulf turned to Jaheira and said, "By the way, this is yours."

Jaheira looked down to see Greywulf's hand open, her lock of hair within the palm. She hesitated for a second then shook her head and said, "No, go ahead and keep it, Greywulf. Take it as a token of my thanks and our friendship."

Even as the six of them made their way back to the Copper Coronet, Ployer stood alone in his ruined home, a slight breeze sending dust and debris from his shattered door through the room. He stood there, unmoving, unbelieving. It wasn't fair... after all this time, he had lost. Again. Impossible... the humiliation, the mockery in their tones as they addressed him and manhandled him. Forced to bear the memory of a second defeat by the Harper mongrel and her companions. The knowledge of betrayal by the hired help; once he would have had their heads for such treachery... now, all he could do was rage harmlessly.

The burning hatred and desire for vengeance that poisioned his soul would never be filled now; all he had left to look forward to was a slow decay into death and old age; finally claiming him a pauper, alone and mocked. "No." he whispered, coming to a decision. "I refuse..."

Ployer bent down to the floor, taking his short sword by the hilt. Eyeing the blade, he reversed his grip, the blade pointing at his chest. He tottered for a moment in hesitation... then fell forward.

X X X X X X X

Greywulf awoke to see Jaheira standing at the window, looking outside at the early morning sun. He was pleased to see her shoulders firm and upright as before, no longer slumped in fatigue. Her stance was no longer so weary, no longer feeble. The look in her eyes was one of pride and strength, rather than the defeat and despair he had witnessed in them yesterday; she was the same fiery woman he had come to know and love. He slowly climbed from the chair he had slept in and stepped over to her, taking a moment to look out the window with her. "Good morning."

"Indeed; a morning with many hopes, dreams and possibilities. It was not so yesterday." Jaheira responded, glancing at him for a moment before resuming her morning vigil.

"No, I imagine your outlook on life is a bit more… permanent today." Greywulf said. "Near-death has a way of changing your view on things."

"True enough." Jaheira admitted, smiling as the sun began blazing into the window, illuminating both their faces.

Jaheira glanced at Greywulf to find him with a broad grin, silent, merely content as he watched her.

"What is it?" she asked, curious.

"You." Greywulf said, after a few seconds of pause, as though searching for the right words. "Moments such as these, where I see you truly… happy; they are far too rare."

"Perhaps now that things are beginning to turn our way, that will change as well." Jaheira responded, grasping his hand and giving it a quick squeeze, then turning away. "I'm heading down for breakfast. Care to come?"

"In a moment. I'll awake the others, then be down. Go ahead."

Jaheira left the room, while Greywulf stood for a moment longer, watching the shadows grow shorter as the sun's rays grew longer. Greywulf glanced down at his hand which Jaheira had held for the briefest of moments, letting her presence in his mind linger for a moment. He would not tell anyone, but there was a time while she was cursed that he had feared... he had been terrified that they wouldn't make it. That they would fail and she would die because they weren't fast enough. The very thought of it had cut him to his soul; he had probably been more afraid than she during the entire ordeal.

What bothered him most about the whole thing was how wrong it felt; it was never supposed to be that way. It was he who should have been on the bed, lying so close to death. He was the one who was reckless, took needless risks and got himself into trouble. And no matter how often he put himself at risk and pushed himself too far, she had always been there to bring him back. Always comforting and healing him even as she chided and lectured him on his foolishness. _Just like Minsc said, always the one who puts herself out there for my sake-_

The memory of his talk with Minsc in the depths of Firkraag's lair filtered back through his head, his brow knitting in thought as the final query Minsc had brought ran through his mind. At first glance the idea of any possible romance with Jaheira was absurd, he had said and thought as much himself on several occasions... but she meant so much to him. If pushed to the limit, he would have done anything for her, anything to save her… his heart quickened as he considered what he was feeling... what he was really feeling. His eyes widened for a moment, quickly shaking himself out of his thoughts.

_Snap out of it! What kind of madness are you thinking? You can't fall for her... not her! That's crazy! _But if he was truly being honest with himself... it didn't feel crazy; not in the least. And for a brief moment, as Greywulf tried to sort his feelings, that's all that mattered.

The rest of the group sat at a table downstairs; finishing up breakfast as Aerie glanced over at Keldorn. "So with the 2000 we receive today, we have enough to purchase the Shadow Thieves' aid now, right?" she said, swallowing a bite of her meal.

"Correct; if all goes as Bayle said, we should be on our way within the week at most, hopefully sooner." Keldorn affirmed, nodding to Greywulf as he noticed the sorcerer descend the stairs and approach their table.

"Bodhi said the Shadow Thieves would have us perform more tasks for them before they gave us what we wanted. Do you believe this?" Jaheira questioned, scooting her chair over so Greywulf could join the circle.

"I hope not. I don't think we can trust Bodhi or her words, but we would be foolish to fully trust the Shadow Thieves either. Bayle and his sort can be nice enough as allies, but they're still Shadow Thieves; an emphasis on thieves. They have no honor." Keldorn pointed out, noticing the slightly hurt look on Yoshimo's face. "Ah. Certain exceptions duly noted, of course."

"How much do we have exactly? Do we know for certain, or are we estimating?" Yoshimo asked.

"Boofrg cogned lig nug. Thirgifgen thosag ninghugred ung twegny four." Minsc said through a mouthful of food, swallowing with great satisfaction.

The others turned and looked at each other in confusion, then looked at him; in unison they said, "What?"

Minsc looked slightly surprised, then repeated, "Boo counted last night. Thirteen thousand nine hundred and twenty four."

Greywulf raised one eyebrow and turned to Keldorn, who had been given control of the money. The paladin arched one eyebrow as he looked at the Bag of Gold he had taken out of their pack. "I don't have an exact number, but by estimates, it should be close." he said.

"All right, say Boo is spot on. That leaves us with enough for quite a while, as long as we don't splurge on new weapons or such."

Minsc began arguing about the comment concerning the supposed accuracy of Boo's counting, when Jaheira's eyes flashed; she noted, "Speaking of weapons, we never visited the dwarf Hendak informed us of; if we are to finally set out after Irenicus, it would not hurt to have more powerful tools at our disposal."

"Indeed; if he can do us any good, we should see him before we talk with Gaelan. Though it might be prudent to deliver this sword to the mages first. Wouldn't want them to think we were double-crossing them and keeping the sword for ourselves. One death curse per lifetime is enough for me." Greywulf considered with a quick glance at Jaheira, his first words he had spoken since joining them downstairs.

"So... we deliver the sword, collect our coin, visit this Cromwell, then get to Gaelan Bayle and deliver the money, all so we can finally set out after Imoen. Sounds like a full day so far." Yoshimo chuckled, stroking his goatee as they finished their meals.

"Then let's get moving. We've got dwarves to see, old friends to save, and an evil wizard to kill. A full day indeed."


	42. Part 2: A Time For Reflection

_Author's Note: Wow... this is the longest chapter I've ever written! Hope you guys enjoy it, but like I said... LONG! Thanks for all the support and reviews; you guys are the ones who keep me writing, you know? Wouldn't be at this without all of you; meh, what the heck; Nine thousand points to all of ya!_

"Yield! Yield and repent of-"

_'thud'_

"How dare you strike me! Cyric shall rain terrible-"

_'thwack'_

"You- you must... guhghugh... must-"

_'thud'_

"All right Minsc, I think he's had enough." Greywulf sighed, watching as the black robed priest before them finally collapsed to the ground, the club he had been wielding rolling from his grasp as Minsc took a step back, rubbing his fist. "I swear, not fifty feet into the Docks and we get accosted by some insane priest who tries to convert us all to the worship of Cyric by force. Why am I not surprised?"

"I would've thought he'd had a glass jaw, myself." Keldorn mused as Minsc pulled the unconscious man out of the streets, into some corner where he could hopefully regain some measure of sanity upon awakening. "Three solid hits from Minsc... an impressive constitution, I'd say."

Greywulf snorted as they kept moving, leaving their attacker behind as they passed deeper into the Docks District, the smell of salt and sea deep in the air as they went. The sight of the ocean could just be made out past the warehouses and mooring stations that sat at the far end, where all the importing, both legal and illegal came into Athkatla. Should one open a portion of each incoming and outgoing shipment, undoubtedly half would be weapons, lotus, or some other illegal commodity. Not that the city guard could do anything about it, of course. They knew better than to try and impose any sort of legality on the people here; the last contingent of guards who had been assigned to clean up the docks had never been heard from again after entering the district; it was the last time the city council had even attempted such an incursion. The Docks were the turf of the Shadow Thieves; according to the rumors, not even Bodhi and her guild were bold enough to make incursions in this place... yet.

The sight of a man staggering past the group, dribbling rum from a bottle he held upside down in his hand, was enough to elicit a sigh and a deep breath from Yoshimo, very much at home amidst the pickpockets and rogues of the area. "Ah, always a pleasure to be here. No guards, no regulations... and never a dull moment."

"As long as you don't mind the constant threat of thievery, murder, or forced conscription into a pirate's crew, a fine spot indeed." Jaheira tossed back, eliciting a sigh and a shrug from the bounty hunter. "Regardless, we delay needlessly. We have the money for Imoen's rescue; we should speak with this dwarf and be on our way."

"The men certainly seemed pleased to get the sword Ployer had." Aerie commented. "What do you think they wanted it for?"

"I don't know, and to be honest, I'm not sure I really want to know." Greywulf replied. "Anyone who fashions death curses for a livelihood has some serious hobby issues; for the gold he paid us, I'll leave him be."

"From the look on his face when he received the blade, he got an excellent deal." Yoshimo remarked as the tall construct in the lower corner of the Docks came into view. "Had we the time, we might've been able to barter the price significantly higher."

"Minsc would rather have taught those mages a lesson about cursing people. For what they did to Jaheira, a butt-kicking was well-deserved." he grumbled.

Jaheira glanced at the ranger with a bit of amusement, tossing him a quick glare. To some it might have been interpreted as annoyance, but they knew each other well enough to see it for the 'thank-you' it was meant as. They had arrived at the house they were seeking; it was openly dwarven in its layout and construction; seemingly built out of stone itself, the symbol of a dwarven clan engraved on the side. There were a few runes of dwarf tongue on the side, Greywulf squinting to try and make them out. "Er... my dwarven is a bit rusty. Any of you have this?"

"Did you learn nothing in your time in Candlekeep?" Jaheira rolled her eyes, stepping forward to read the lines. "Nothing of importance... just his name, clan, and occupation. Cromwell- the Irondain clan. Blacksmith by trade-"

"I never would have guessed." Yoshimo chuckled, gazing at the stack of smoke piping out from the carved chimney, undoubtedly from the forge inside. The faint sound of metal hitting metal could be made out as well; the group headed inside, hit by a large blast of heat as the door was opened. Forcing themselves to enter, and suppressing the urge to cast a few Protection from Fire spells, they were met by a long bearded, gruffly faced dwarf. He took a quick glance at the new comers, and then turned away from the anvil he had been working on; pounding what looked like a few broken shards into a sword again. Setting his hammer down, he stepped over, seemingly unaffected by the heat. "What do ye be wanting here? Few tallfolk come by me forge unless someone's done recommended me, and to tell the truth I likes it that way. Somebody send ye?"

"I see the hospitality of the dwarves has not improved any since my last visit to a dwarven village." Jaheira said skeptically, Cromwell's eyes narrowing at her words. "I suppose I should not have expected the city life to have brought anything better of the race."

"Jaheira-" Greywulf gritted his teeth and stepped in front of her with an apologetic smile. "Er, you'll forgive us, Master Dwarf; Jaheira's been through quite a bit in the last day or so. Our apologies for intruding if you weren't expecting it; for your earlier question, Hendak, the new proprietor of the Copper Coronet recommended you to us."

Cromwell's wrinkled face brightened at Hendak's name, nodding with recognition. "Ah, Hendak! So the boy's luck finally turned around, aye? Liked him from the moment I saw him in the arena- got to chat with the boy for a while, offered to keep his gladius sharpened up for battles. Good to know he's out of that prison then. But seeing as ye already knows me, might ye tell me who ye are?"

"Of course; my name is Greywulf, this is Minsc, Jaheira, Keldorn, Yoshimo, and Aerie. Adventurers, if you hadn't already guessed by the look." Greywulf offered.

"Ha! Indeed, fair enough; rare does anyone come in here that isn't already well familiar with battle and blade. Like ye say, I be Cromwell, this be my forge. I might apologize for a harsh tone on yer entering, Miss... Jaheira, was it? I does rarely get visitors and don't care for that to change, but 'tis no excuse to be rude."

Jaheira accepted the dwarf's hand with a tight smile and nod. "I shall think better of your kin before I speak next time, master dwarf."

"Aye, too many fights and brawls o'er the matter of elves or nae' elves; many folks are untrusting and ill-mannered around here in this city. But live and let live I say, and I'll not turn down anyone who wants a look at me forge here, elf, man, or dwarf. Even had a halfling in here a while ago. Most curious fellow, him. Kept going on and on about wanting me to use my forge to destroy some ring, or something about a dark lord and some black horses, I don't remember. Just as I was asking him why he would want to destroy a ring, I turned around, and he was gone! Vanished like the wind. Most curious."

"Odd." Keldorn said, scratching his head.

"Yes well, just what did our friend Hendak tell ye of my business?" Cromwell said, stroking his long, grey beard. "If'n you care to notice, you'll find I don't carry any weapons in stock, or armor for that matter."

"So what do you sell?" Aerie questioned, fidgeting in the heat of the forge as Cromwell sauntered over and pumped a pair of bellows, bringing it to an even larger roar.

"What do I sell?" Cromwell repeated, looking very proud as he puffed out his chest, turning to face the group again. "I've forged weapons of ancient power, filled with magics long since forgotten! Blades, hammers and bows that would be the equal of a thousand of their normal selves, a blade and a shell to make the very gods tremble!"

"Surely you jest, good sir." Yoshimo chuckled. "Perhaps I seem jaded... but you make quite the claim."

"Aye, that it is. Perhaps I'm a bit overdramatic. What I do is no lesser thing though. I have studied, trained and made it my life's work to the knowledge of reforging items, specifically magical ones."

"What kind of villain would treat his sword so poorly as to break it?" Minsc said with a frown. "A sword should be a man's best friend! Oh... aside from his hamster. Or witch."

"Ye'd be surprised boy, ye'd be surprised." Cromwell chuckled, glancing at Boo with one bushy eyebrow raised. "Your animal companion, ranger? A fine specimen, if'n I do say so; haven't seen a miniature of that particular species for some time. But back to what this lad were asking, all these stories about ancient heroes of old and their weapons they wielded, most of them are true, you know. Well, everyone always pays attention to what happened to the hero, but never to his weapon. In most cases, the item was either lost or destroyed, and that's what I pay attention to."

"You have an example? I'm not sure I follow." Greywulf asked with a frown.

"All right then laddie, I'll tell you the tale of the Equalizer. Long ago, back during the first Great War between the Drow elves and the High elves of Suldenesselar, there was an elf by the name of Gilfang. Captain of the guard he was, reporting directly to the Queen Ellesime, daughter of the Seldarine herself."

"At one point in the war, the Drow broke through the outer defenses in a daring strike, reaching the very gates of Suldenesselar. All of his men were either busy fighting elsewhere or dead, and only Gilfang stood between the Drow force of twelve elite warriors and the city. He pulled out his long sword and fought like a man (excuse me, elf) possessed. His blade combined with his skill cut down all twelve drow, no small feat if you know anything of that particular race."

"Anyway, the Queen was so impressed with his skill that she called together all of her finest sorcerers and mages, calling them to cast their spells of power upon the sword he had. Finally, she cast her own magics on it, making it the most powerful long sword Faerun has ever seen, or will ever see I gather. It was given the name Equalizer, or Drow-bane. He used it for the rest of the war, and with it he slew hundreds of the dark elves. At the very last, he and a war band were driving the few remaining drow back towards their front city of Ust Natha, when one turned around and shot an arrow at their pursuers. It struck Gilfang in the shoulder, the poisoned arrowhead filling his body with terrible fire. He could nae' stand to fight, and without their captain, the morale of the band quickly fell. The pursuit turned quick enough to a rout, the drow chasing the elves out of the Underdark. One by one they fell to the drow warriors, until all that was left was Gilfang. He was poisoned and falling faster than me hammer on the forge, but still slew many of the dark-skinned elves that dared approach. He hid himself in a dead-end crevice, but the drow knew of his wound an d'rather wait for the elf to fall by poison than risk themselves at his skill."

"Gilfang was no fool; he took the blade, and shattered it with an incantation of elven magic, splitting it into hilt, pommel jewel, and blade. One more spell scattered the pieces, two in the Underdark, one somewhere above land so that no drow could ever use the weapon against them. Oddly, enough, the whole effort was a waste; the drow never touched him. An elvish counterattack pushed the drow warriors back, letting them retrieve the elf's body."

"A wondrous tale, if true." Keldorn said, shaking his head in disbelief.

"Aye, 'tis slightly fanciful, I'll admit. But I'd be willing to bet a wyrm's hoard it's real."

"Are there other such weapons of legend? Other powers of ages past?" Greywulf asked.

"Aye, but to tell all their stories would take time I'm sure ye all don't have. To name a few I could though: The Bow of Gesen, greatest bowmaker of his age, broken at his death when stolen by an assassin who wanted it for himself. The Ravager, a halberd so mighty no mortal dared wield it after the titan who made it perished, Ixil's Nail, a spear whose head would detach with every successful strike and magically grow a new spear head in an instant, and the most powerful of all, Crom Faeyr, the war hammer of myth. They say the weapon grants its user incredible strength, akin to a dozen ogres, and the hammer itself will fell a giant with one blow."

"So, what could we bring you that you could forge into a weapon? I'm sure you do more regular forgings then just legendary weapons." Jaheira asked with a frown. "Surely the chances of finding such powerful relics are relatively small."

"Aye, the amount of money I make on forging such godly power is relatively small... seeing as the lack of business I get for such things. However, ye can catch me forging some lesser things... though it's still a bit more unusual than most. I can forge ye suits of armor, the likes of which you've never seen. Bring me anything you want it made out of, and I can make it. I recently made an Ankheg scale mail suit for a customer. Quite sturdy."

"Interesting." Greywulf said. "We'd fought a few of those creatures down near Baldur's Gate, but I never imagined one could make armor out of their scales. It would be tough, at that."

"Indeed." Cromwell said. "So, in case you run into a large beastie, ankheg, dragon, anything with large amounts of scales that are hard enough to make armor, bring me some and I'll make you something out of them. For a price of course."

"Of course." Yoshimo said, smiling.

"Thank you, master dwarf. This has been most interesting, and we will indeed keep our eyes open for anything of such usefulness. Quick question: Say we encounter something like a part of these weapons. How would we know what it was?"

"Oh, well I don't know for sure, but I would imagine the magic aura would be strong enough ye'd know something was different."

Greywulf nodded, and then frowned, thinking. He dug into his bag, rummaging around for a few moments…

"What are you searching for, Greywulf?" Aerie asked.

"Just a moment… here it is. Jaheira, this look familiar?"

Greywulf held out the pommel jewel she had found and given to Greywulf long ago in the slaver compound, noting its magic feel. He had teased her a bit for it, but she remembered quickly.

"Yes, indeed. Cromwell, would this be anything of note?"

Cromwell took the jewel from him and studied it for a second, before his eyes grew wider than the jewel itself.

"This… this be the pommel jewel to the Equalizer! By Claggedinn's hammer, it be one third of the legendary sword I told ye about! See, ye can see the elvish rune E on the jewel, E for Ellesime! It's true, I knew it!"

"So it is. I don't suppose you can make anything out of it?"

"No, not right now." Cromwell said, his eyes still blinking rapidly in disbelief. "But I suppose if you can find this, you can find the other two pieces, blade and hilt. Do this and bring them back here. If you can, I'll reforge the weapon for you. It would be my honor, nay my privilege to do such a deed. Where did you find the jewel, anyway?"

"Long story." Greywulf said with a smile, taking the jewel back from the dwarf. "Though I doubt we'll be in the Underdark anytime soon. My thanks Cromwell; we'll be taking our leave."

The dwarf's eyes sparkled, still entranced by the validation of his own beliefs as they left. Still, just as Aerie walked out, Yoshimo leaned over to the Avariel and whispered, "Er... Aerie, did you hear our good dwarven smith refer to Boo as a... miniature of the species?"

"He... he did, didn't he." Aerie said with a frown, her gaze catching Yoshimo's. "You... you don't think he knows something we don't-"

"No. No, we must have misunderstood. There's no way... no. Definitely misheard; too much time spent in the heat."

X X X X X X X

"Come on in."

Keldorn frowned as he heard the voice issue from behind Gaelan Bayle's door, just as his gauntleted hand had been raised to knock. He glanced over toward Greywulf who answered with a shrug. Shaking his head, Keldorn pushed the door open, entering with the others following right behind. The house was just as they had left it before, mostly bare, seemingly more for meetings of this nature than actual living quarters for the rogue. There was a figure sitting in Bayle's usual chair, awaiting them as before, but it didn't take long for them to realize something was... off. Gaelan had apparently lost a few feet, the small form resting in the chair cloaked and hooded so as to obscure his face and features, but whoever sat there did not have feet long enough to reach the ground, and was swinging his legs back and forth in what could only be merry enjoyment. Greywulf opened his mouth to say something, taking a quick step forward-

A rustle behind them brought their attention, the half-elf wizard turning to spy Bayle dropping down behind them, apparently tucked into an alcove hidden above the door. The looks of surprise on the adventurer's faces were enough to break the silence of the cloaked figure in the chair, ripping off his cloak with raucous, childish laughter and snorts. "Haw haw! You should've seen all yer faces! My Uncle always gets 'im with that one!"

"Ah Brus... far too long since our last meeting." Yoshimo remarked as the child, still laughing, hopped out of the chair and brought the cloak dutifully back to his Uncle. Gaelan donned it with a flourish, bowing gracefully to his guests. "Coo! 'Ello there then. Good to be seeing you all once again."

"Do you always hide from your visitors?" Keldorn asked dryly.

"Got to keep my stealth skills up, y'know?" Bayle answered with a shrug. "Can't be too careful anyways; not with this guild war heating up and such."

"It's three in the afternoon." Jaheira rolled her eyes. "What vampire would possibly be lurking about at this hour?"

"Good point." Gaelan said thoughtfully. "Anyways, I see you've added another member to your merry little band. Keldorn, right? Paladin of Torm, defender of righteousness and all that. I tell you, I meet the most interesting people in my line o' work."

"Are you always so friendly, or only to the people who have outrageous amounts of gold to give you?" Yoshimo asked wryly.

"Oh, I'd like to say the gold has nothing to do with it, seeing as I probably won't get any of it, but… it might at that. Speaking of which, I'm assuming you've earned the necessary amount?"

"That we have." Greywulf said, Keldorn hefting the Bags of Gold he had in his possession. "There should be a little over fifteen thousand in there. If you could, we'd like our change before we leave."

"Of course! Let no man say Gaelan Bayle wasn't an honest dealer." Bayle said, looking positively shocked that Greywulf would even insinuate a lack of honesty on his part. "Arlan, get down here and get these fine folk their change."

A cloaked man descended the stairs behind him and took the bags up the stairs with him. "Won't it take him a while to count all that?" Aerie asked.

"A couple of spells will prove useful. He won't take but a minute."

"Good enough. But we've come through with our part. I'm expecting you to do the same for us." Greywulf said, making a none-too subtle point to approach Gaelan, perhaps a bit closer than the thief would have liked.

"Of course; don't get excited, mind you." Gaelan said. "Course, I can't really do too much for you. You'll need to go talk to the boss, the Shadow Master Aran Linvail for the rest of this matter."

"Aran Linvail... a name synonymous with the Shadow Thieves in any circle, large or small." Keldorn mused. "Many of my compatriots in the Radiant Heart have spoken of his elusiveness... I am slightly surprised he allows us access for mere gold."

"I'll send Brus with you to deliver the gold; go meet Renal Bloodscalp and he'll tell you where to go. Ah, here comes Arlan now."

Arlan handed Keldorn a Bag of Gold back, his low voice resonating as he informed them, "You've got nine hundred and twenty four left."

The others looked at each other, astonished at the accuracy of Boo's count, while Minsc merely looked on proudly, grinning at the squeaking hamster sticking out of his belt pouch.

Shaking his head, Greywulf nodded and followed the boy, leading them from Bayle's house and back toward the Docks and their meeting with the Bloodscalp of Athkatla. "Do you think we'll finally get answers? As much as I want to think this will be the end of it... my gut tells me otherwise." Keldorn murmured to Yoshimo as they followed, the boy chatting with Aerie, still laughing about the incident back at the house.

"Honestly, I'm not sure I completely agree with our present course." Yoshimo said, shifting his pack slightly as they moved. "These men and women... they are not to be trifled with. Neither are the vampires and their cabal... ah, forget I said anything."

"Something bothering you, Yoshimo?" Keldorn asked.

"It is... it is nothing." Yoshimo said, Keldorn nodding and turning away from the thief... though if he had looked for a second longer, he would have seen a grimace of pain flash across Yoshimo's face.

"Oy! If'n you seen my Uncle a few years back you'd have lost your minds, near sure! Had this thing, where he'd knock out all the lights inn'is house, then pickpocket the men come to see him afore they even knew wot hit 'im! Brilliant thief, me Uncle is!" Brus said, still going on about Gaelan as they went, Aerie covering a smile with one hand as she listened. "Like I be saying, could scare the pants off all a you when he dropped down on y'all today! Funniest thing I seen in some time!"

"Perhaps." Greywulf nodded, though a brief twitch at the edge of his mouth grabbed Jaheira's attention as they went, knowing him far too well to not see the comeback on the way. "But I wager I've seen something far scarier than your Uncle's trick; in fact, it scares me half to death every time I see it."

"Oh really?" Brus said, his face somewhat indignant at the idea of his story being upstaged by something else. "And wot's that?"

Greywulf knelt down by the boy with one hand around his shoulder, then turned around and whispered, "Jaheira, when she gets annoyed."

The two glanced up at Jaheira, who was standing behind them with one of the most icy, harsh glares on her face Greywulf had seen in quite a while. Brus' eyes grew wide as her gaze fixed on him, the boy making a small _'eep' _noise before quickly turning back around and keeping a fairly good sized distance between her and himself as he led them on. Greywulf stood with a chuckle, falling in step with Jaheira as she leaned over to him, saying with absolute calm, "And well it should scare you... though I hope your little joke was worth it."

"Oh it was." he laughed, eyes brightening as the boy opened the door to the Shadow Thief guildhall, beckoning for them to enter, even as he still avoided catching Jaheira's glare. "It was indeed."

"Are you sure?" she asked with one eyebrow arched, her face still expressionless. To his credit, Greywulf managed to keep his smile on his face for another second or two... before it faltered as he coughed slightly, also turning away and following Brus with a subtle avoidance of her gaze as well. She watched him move forward with the boy, then allowed herself a satisfied smirk.

The guildhall looked much the same from the first time Yoshimo, Aerie, and Minsc had visited, and they knew the path well that led them to the main office, if it could be called that, of the Bloodscalp. Still as busy as before, the guildmaster looked up with a grin on his face at the approach of the boy and the adventurers behind him. "Well, well. Gaelan sent word you would be arriving soon, but I had no idea you would be quite this punctual." he said with a bow and a tight smile. "Brus... it's been some time since you've come to visit. How is your Uncle faring in that corner of the Slums?"

"He likes it all right there- says not to forget his finder's fee!" Brus said with a gap-toothed grin, grunting as he handed the amount Gaelan had sent with him over to Bloodscalp. The Shadow Thief quickly passed it on to one of his men, returning Brus a smaller sack. "His reward is well in hand; as well as your own finder's fee, I should think. Give him my regards, hmm?"

"Oy, I'll do that!" Brus tossed back as he darted out, already peeking inside to see how much was there. Bloodscalp chuckled as he watched the boy depart; he shook his head as he gestured towards a set of six chairs lined up around his own. "That boy'll grow to be a fine rogue some day; if he ever learns to keep a tighter grip on the gold he finds. Spends it far too fast for his own good; I wonder how much of Gaelan's fee actually ever reaches him."

"Glad to see you're setting such a fine example." Jaheira rolled her eyes, eliciting a laugh from Renal. "Ah! You must be Jaheira; our first meeting, if I'm not mistaken. Still, a pleasure to meet the rest of you; quite the busy crew, hmm? Your exploits are becoming quite the popular talk around this place."

"What about?" Aerie asked.

"Ah, dear sweet Aerie. Too long since you graced us with your presence." Renal said, flashing her a perfect smile. "Surely you must know. Dealing with the largest slaving operation in Athkatla, standing up to Firkraag the red, freeing a circus from a mad illusionist, destroying a beholder cult, and my personal favorite, handling our little situation concerning Mae'Var. Which of course, is still technically nonexistent."

"You know of everything we've done?" Minsc said in surprise. "Boo did not see you following us on our adventures."

"Perhaps not, but if I didn't know everything that happened in this city, I'd be a fairly poor guildmaster, wouldn't I? Either that or dead." Renal said with a shrug. "Though I surmise you're not here to chat with me, as much fun as it's been. You're here to speak with Aran?"

"If it's not too much trouble." Greywulf said with a faint hint of sarcasm.

"I thought as much. That's why I already informed him of your visit." Renal said confidently. The sound of boots landing firmly across wooden floor echoed faintly, growing steadily louder as the six there looked around, all other activity and sound in the room somehow silenced.

Glancing upward, they saw a balcony of a floor above overlooking the room, where stood two Shadow Thief guardsmen, flanking the Shadowmaster himself. A wry smile flexed his mustache upward as he looked down upon them. "Congratulations for making it so far, one and all. I am, as you all know, Aran Linvail. Guards... relieve them of their weapons."

There was a collective reach for their weapons as a number of guards stepped closer, the party eyeing the thieves around with suspicion. "What's going on, Linvail?" Greywulf asked grimly, not even bothering to look back up at the balcony. No answer was forthcoming; he glanced back up and saw the Shadowmaster gone, as well as his guards. Renal shook his head as he stepped forward with a wide grin. "Come now, Greywulf, where are your manners? Surely you realize... when one has dinner with the Shadowmaster, you don't bring weapons to the table."

X X X X X X X

For a man with such a feared reputation as Aran Linvail, master and commander of the Shadow Thieves, the dining hall was surprisingly relaxing. True, the path was a bit frightening, especially when one considered their disarmed status. A long narrow corridor, lit only by a few torches and mind-numbingly similar to every other corridor since they had left Bloodscalp's office, branching into several others that could only be navigated by following their guide. Obviously a tactic to confuse potential intruders, as well as to provide chokepoints in case of all out invasion, but they were no less sinister for company of a more beneficial nature. Once they reached their destination, it was a different story. The room was furnished better than some nobles' houses; full carpeting along with furniture and decoration, antique paintings and other obviously valuable relics had been placed right out in the open, displayed by their owner with what some might consider extreme arrogance. There was even a marble fountain placed in one corner, the sound of the water continually splashing down to the pool setting a very pleasant tone to the room. A large oak table was situated in the center of the room, seven chairs placed around, three on either side with one at the head. Fine china plating and dishes were stationed at each place, laid out with the utmost of care. Two pitchers of water sat on either end for easy access, and a pair of lit candlebras provided quite the mood of hospitality.

Their host was already awaiting them there, standing by his own place. "Do come in... I believe the food is nearly ready."

The party took the opportunity to seat themselves; Aran doing so only after everyone else had done so as well. He was not adorned in a particularly protected manner at first inspection; surprising for one of such importance. A simple brown tunic along with black leather pants, the sheath to a long sword strapped to either hip, though as he had requested of his guests, he was not carrying said weapons either. At least, none that were visible. A green cloak was draped over the back of his chair with a golden clasp, more of a flamboyant gesture than anything, but he apparently had chosen to discard it for the time. Smiling easily at the six before him, the two small parts of his goatee curling in on either side of his chin, he waved one hand the servants approaching immediately with their dinner. It was brought in before anyone really had a chance to ask questions or be questioned, and with a quick nod for the servants to leave them, Linvail gazed at the new arrivals, awaiting them to begin. He noticed their hesitation with a laugh, "Please... surely you don't think me so base as to poison the very food I set before you?"

"It's hard to tell sometimes." Greywulf replied, though to his credit, he did take a small portion of the meal in reply. Aran appeared satisfied as did the rest of the party; unsurprisingly, the food was magnificent. Linvail made small talk with each party member during the meal, asking insignificant questions, little tidbits of history or experiences in the past, quite amused with Minsc and his replies. The topic of Imoen did not come up once, though to tell the truth, none were really surprised by that. This was merely the intro; the first act had yet to begin.

Finally the meal was finished and everyone satisfied; even Minsc had eaten his fill, evoking quite the interest from Aran at just how much the ranger had packed away. Aran wiped his mouth with a napkin, then leaned back and gazed at all of them with an analytical smile, as though his mind was already calculating and anticipating the best way to deal with them. The scrutiny made Greywulf slightly uncomfortable; _if there's one thing I don't like, it's being manipulated. Let this guy get started, it's a real possibility. Better to cut him off now._

"As enjoyable as this has been," Greywulf voiced, catching Aran's attention, "We do have business to discuss."

"Indeed? I suppose we do... though are you certain you wouldn't care for dessert first? The crepes' are excellent." he asked questioningly, taking a sip of his wine.

"Imoen." Jaheira cut him off; by the look on her face, she was rapidly losing patience with these pleasantries and formalities; only the obvious danger of their situation kept her tone from being a harsher one.

"Very well." Aran nodded, waving off the servant who was carrying a tray of said desserts. "Right to the point, if you feel so inclined. You seek your missing friend, Imoen... taken by the Cowled Wizards and imprisoned. Gaelan informed you of our offer; fifteen thousand gold pieces in return for our aid in finding Imoen."

"That was the bargain; we've come through on our end, and I don't think it's too much for us to expect you to do the same now." Greywulf replied.

Aran cocked his head to the side for a brief moment... then exhaled with a tight smile. "I'm afraid not. You see, as much as I would love to aid you in your endeavor... we simply don't have the resources. This guild war... it prevents us from going further."

"I considered a betrayal, but I was hoping you'd have a bit more decency than that." Greywulf ground out, almost standing from his chair before Keldorn grabbed his wrist, shaking his head as he pulled the sorcerer back down.

"Please... a betrayal?" Aran shook his head. "Had I intended to betray you, the moment your gold was in our possession you would have been killed. I have every intention of fulfilling our word and aiding you in rescuing Imoen... after an exchange of services."

"What kind of services?" Yoshimo asked with a frown, glancing about, noting the various guards and men in case hostilities were to erupt.

"Nothing beyond your capabilities, I'm sure. There are some simple tasks you can aid us in, which will do wonders for our capability to send you to Imoen's side." Aran shrugged. "Aid in the fight against Bodhi's guild, for the most part. We did lower our price to fifteen thousand instead of twenty, did we not? Surely you know the Shadow Thieves do nothing for free."

"I begin to see that quite clearly." Greywulf said, stone faced. "Bodhi did warn us you would sic us on her guild; perhaps I should've listened better."

"You expected that you would face her eventually, true? Throwing in with us has merely sped the inevitable. Bodhi's guild is evil; you know this, and despite what you may believe, the Shadow Thieves are the least of the evils around here nowadays." Aran said with a chuckle. "The sooner you aid us against them, the quicker you'll get to Imoen. Not that you have much choice in the matter, if you still want to rescue Imoen. Should that no longer be the case, say the word and I'll return your gold and send you on your way."

There was silence as the Shadowmaster of Athkatla stared down six of the most experienced warriors to be found... smiling with satisfaction as their leader shook his head in acquiescence. "No. No, we'll do whatever it takes."

"Good. Your arrival is quite timely, as I mentioned before. There is a shipment of weapons coming in at the docks tomorrow night; necessary supplies and armaments for our war against the vampire cabal. Bodhi has somehow learned of our docking bays, where our shipments come in and when, and has been hitting them whenever she gets the chance. We don't have the manpower to protect all of them; but this shipment is vital. I have a thief down there by the name of Mook right now; she'll be your contact, it's at Docks Platform 42. All you have to do is ensure the delivery goes smoothly and report anything unusual to me when it's completed."

"Minsc does not like working for you." the ranger growled, taking a step forward, an imposing enough sight to make even Linvail flinch briefly. "When will we find our lost Imoen?"

"As soon as humanly possible, Minsc." Aran conceded. "Once we have enough resources, you'll be well on your way. Until then, all you can do is speed the process. Are you certain you won't have dessert?"

"No. Thank you." Greywulf said with something of a bitter smile, the party standing and heading back toward the main hall. "Consider your task done... but you'd better make good on your promises. I expect to be sent to Imoen the moment it's possible. It's been too long already and if we're too late on your account, I'll hold you responsible."

Aran Linvail smiled, watching as a pair of guards met them at the door, handing them their weapons back. "You show no fear of me, despite the power I hold... good. I like when someone shows courage, as long as it doesn't turn into insolence. Best be on your way and prepare for tomorrow; the vampires are not to be underestimated. Oh, and one more thing."

"What?"

Aran's smile took on a decidedly predatory look as he stood, whipping his cloak back around his shoulders, the guards closing the door between the party and Aran's quarters. "Never threaten me again, or finding Imoen will be the least of your worries."

X X X X X X X

Aran Linvail's words were still resonating in their minds as the party headed back to the Copper Coronet; the general consensus among the group had been that considering the late hour of the evening and their scheduled task tomorrow, a bit of relaxation couldn't hurt. A little something to cool the frustration and the stress brought on by their visit to the Shadowmaster's quarters. Not that they had truly expected to be sent to Imoen immediately... but things definitely could have gone better. The Coronet, despite all of its quirks and obnoxious traits, was still the closest thing to a base they had in Athkatla; that and free rent from Hendak made it quite the appealing choice whenever possible. Still, the cool night air along with the half-shadowed streets made for a cold walk.

One member of the group in particular felt it... felt the chill cut more than skin deep. Aerie shuddered once as they kept moving, her steps unusually heavy and hard. When they had finally gathered all the gold required of them, she had dared hope that it was coming to an end; that they might finally reach the end of their quest. But it had been a false hope; Aran Linvail had seen to that. Not only that, but he had virtually ensured their cooperation in any activity he deemed them necessary to complete. His words to them at the end had left quite the impact on her; they might as well have signed a contract of servitude to the Shadow Thieves. Her earlier doubts and fears when working for Renal Bloodscalp with Yoshimo and Minsc came flooding back, despite how much she tried to suppress them.

What if Linvail demanded something more of them than a simple guard duty? Thievery again, murdering those who might threaten his position of power? Innocents... she didn't know if she could handle it... she couldn't. Not anymore... it was too much. All the frustration, all the worry, all the strain Aerie had been holding back, keeping in and trying to fight came rushing through her trembling body, what she tried to make into an inaudible sob catching her in the throat. She hated this... the deceit; the hold of power these wicked men had over her and the others, the way that no matter how much she tried, it wasn't getting any easier. If anything, it was harder, every day harder and harder to get out of bed and keep fighting with these men and women, making it look so effortless to lead this kind of life-

"Aerie? Are you okay?"

Keldorn's concerned voice caught her off-guard, the Avariel looking up at him in surprise, his concerned gaze locked on her. "Is there something you wish to talk about-"

"No... no, it's nothing." she said, unable to suppress a crack in her voice as she turned away from him, mentally vowing not to show this kind of weakness in front of the others, especially not Jaheira... but the tears started coming, and there was no stopping them.

Greywulf had seen it as well, hurriedly motioning for the others to continue on; he stopped by Aerie's side, leading her over to a small set of stairs outside a shop, glancing toward the others to ensure none of them were in sight. Minsc had stayed as well; after speaking with Aerie previously, he had made it his job to protect her emotional and physical well-being at all times. Aerie looked up at both of their concerned faces, doing her best to maintain some sort of composure... but it was of little aid. Greywulf wrapped one arm around her, Minsc holding her hand tightly.

"It's all right, Aerie... we're stopping now. Heading back to the Coronet to get some rest." he said, offering a handkerchief from his cloak.

"It's not that... I just- I don't know if I can keep doing this!" she cried, desperately looking back and forth between the two of them. "I... I feel like just collapsing her and dying! All of you _'sob!'_ all of you know exactly how to live and what to do... I can't do it! I'm... I'm useless to you; I just weigh the party down and hold you back. _'sob!_"

"This is not so!" Minsc cried out, attempting to comfort her in his own clumsy if earnest manner. "None of our companions are useless! Besides, you are Minsc's witch! That is not useless, no sirree! Ask Boo, he knows! Boo would not travel with someone who was useless, and I find him in your belongings snuffling about contentedly very often, yes indeed!"

"But I am, Minsc, I am!" Aerie cried, tears running down her pale cheeks, trembling with sorrow. "I am no witch of Rashemen, no Dynaheir! I am useless to you, and all the others! I've… I've had enough of this life! _'sob!'_ P-perhaps it would be better if I… just went back to the circus…"

Greywulf exhaled deeply, the choice now upon him. He had told himself this time was coming... told himself that if Aerie could not cope with her losses and find the strength to go on, he would have to send her back, remove her from the group and give her back to her Uncle Quayle. She had shown no sign of growing, no sign of acquiring the necessary strength. She had given him the perfect opportunity to do what he needed to do. He could send her back without malice or hurt feelings, without making it seem as though he had been contemplating it all along. It was what should be done, what _needed_ to be done. He opened his mouth to speak... and yet, sitting there with her, he didn't see her as a burden to be dropped. She was not a worthless companion to be discarded or an annoyance that had finally worn itself out. She was a friend. She trusted him. She would have even loved him, had he allowed himself and her the opportunity. He could not simply give up on her. To send her back would be to agree, to say she was indeed useless, and destroy any hope of her discovering her self-worth in the future. He could not do it. For all the logic and argument in his head... he couldn't do it.

"Pull yourself together, Aerie! You haven't even tried to face this!" Greywulf said, his tone trying to mirror the one Jaheira had always used when trying to teach him in his first days of leading a party.

"But I have, Greywulf, I have! I tried clinging to you… but it wasn't what I needed, or what you could give… I just don't have the strength! I'm so useless…"

"Not all strength is in the arms, Aerie." Minsc said quietly, lifting her chin up to look at him. "Minsc does not have near the strength of Aerie... you have strength inside that makes Minsc and Boo look small in comparison! That is hard to do, believe you me, because Minsc is not a small man, and Boo is not a small hamster!"

Aerie managed a slight smile through her tears, Greywulf tightening the hold he had on her, bringing her close. "Aerie, you've had a hard life, I know. But it's not your past that defines you; you make your own destiny. Trust me on this; I know my past, and I refuse to let it claim me, let it decide my future. Aerie... I had a dream a few nights ago. You were in it and I wish you could have seen yourself. You had such confidence, such pride in your bearing... it was you like I know you can be."

"But it wasn't me; it was just a dream-"

"It doesn't matter. What matters is what you intend to make of yourself. Aerie, the strength you need is inside you; it's always been there. You have two options: you can either be strong and live or lie down and die! I know I sound harsh, but that's it! Do you _want_ to die?"

"N-no… no, I don't want to die." Aerie sniffed, trying to regain her composure. "Maybe… maybe I will think on what you have said… I just need to think... to sleep for now…"

"Good girl." Greywulf said with a smile, helping her to her feet. Minsc walked with Aerie arm in arm as they brought her back to the Copper Coronet. Minsc took her up to her room right away, Greywulf watching as he brought her to the room she would stay in for the night. He called out to her once more before she disappeared, "Aerie... I believe in you."

She flashed him a weak smile, Greywulf turning away to his own room. The rest of the party had remained at the bar room, taking some well needed time for relaxation. They tossed questioning glances Minsc's way when he joined them, but Minsc said nothing, refusing to speak of his witch or the problems surrounding her until he was sure she was okay. Jaheira glanced back up at the rooms above, noting where Aerie was and mentally considering paying her a visit, perhaps giving some form of advice- she shook her head with chuckle. As if her brand of advice would be welcomed at the moment. Still, Greywulf was also absent... there was someone she could at least talk to on friendly terms.

Greywulf was currently sitting in the room above at a small table, reading a thin-worn book, pulling out different items from his belt pouches as he went. The work was a distraction from his troubles, trying to manage the emotions of Aerie, his conflicting feelings about Jaheira, the Shadow Thieves… He continued to scan the pages, reading off different items and mixing them as the tome before him instructed. He bent down closely to the powder he was pouring into a flask, watching carefully as each blue grain fell in, measuring as carefully as he could… a knock at the door suddenly broke him out of his concentration, causing powder to spill all over the table. Greywulf cursed, then exhaled and called out, "Come in."

The door opened to reveal Jaheira, the druid raising one eyebrow at the spill, "I'm sorry, was I interrupting anything important?"

"No. Well yes, but come in. I could use some company." Greywulf said, attempting to talk, look at Jaheira and clean up the mess all at once. "Just mixing up a few potions for tomorrow."

"I had no idea you fancied yourself an alchemist." Jaheira said, bending down to clean some of the powder up as well.

"I'm not, so you might be careful before you drink this." Greywulf said, sitting back with the rest of the powder cleaned up. "The only reason I know any of this is because of this book Gorion gave me when I completed my training as a sorcerer. He told me he carried it when he did more adventuring, and that I should have it. It contains a number of spells and their casting instructions, but a few potion ingredient lists as well. The particular one of interest now would be to protect against the draining of life energy."

"For a vampire's energy drain." Jaheira noted, handing him a new flask.

"Exactly. Call me crazy, but they might come in handy. In fact, if these potions work out, fighting them should be a fairly simple task."

Jaheira rolled her eyes, "Do you truly think so?"

"You ask me that a lot." Greywulf said, mockingly testy. "But you're right, I'm just being optimistic. More than likely these potions will make the user explode or turn into a squirrel or something. But it can't hurt, I suppose. How many people would think of hunting a Bhaalspawn squirrel?"

"None too many. How is Aerie doing?" Jaheira said, quickly shifting the conversation before it got too far gone. "I half expected her to be back at the circus right now after today's little episode."

"I did too. I was almost ready to send her there; in fact, I was going to. I had the words… all of it was right there, but I didn't." Greywulf sighed.

"What changed your mind?"

"I'm not sure, really. I just know… she needs help finding her way, her character. If not with us, she won't find it at all. I have to believe she can do it. You would have done the same for me."

They stayed silent for a few more minutes, long enough for Greywulf to finish concocting two of the potions he had desired to make. Looking at the dark blue liquid in the vials, he turned to Jaheira and offered one. "So, thirsty?"

"For that? No thank you. I'll stick with a few mugs of ale." Jaheira shook her head as she drew back.

"Well somebody's going to have to try them to make sure they work for tomorrow. And since you've declined to be the guinea pig, I suppose I'm the only one left." Without another word of protest from Jaheira he drank the whole of one vial, downing it in one gulp. Jaheira watched his face nervously, as Greywulf's brow knitted, trying to discern what the effects were. Suddenly, Greywulf began coughing heavily, his face contorting in what Jaheira could only interpret as pain. She jumped forward in worry, trying to calm him as his coughs grew louder and more intense. Finally, he fell to one knee, clutching his throat. Jaheira's eyes widened, as she grabbed his shoulders, trying to figure out something to do to help her friend. She hurriedly began pulling an anti-poison potion from her belt, but whirled back around as Greywulf's coughs erupted into laughter, falling on his back, obviously pleased with his performance. Jaheira glared heavily, and thwacked his forehead as he struggled to sit up again.

"Don't ever do that to me." Jaheira said, more than a little irritation evident in her voice. "I almost shoved this potion down your throat."

"I know." Greywulf said, wiping a tear from one eye, "That's why I stopped. Those antidotes taste pretty nasty. Speaking of nasty, the potion I made is _'yuck'_ pretty nasty too. But I think it's doing its job. This gem should glow green if the potion is working."

Greywulf picked up a gem that had been included with the book and stared at it, the hue in it slowly growing a greenish tint.

"Well, that was an unmitigated success." Greywulf announced, putting the other potion on the table carefully. "Ready to make another five for tomorrow night?"

"Actually, the main reason I came up here was to tell you to come join the rest of us down there. There'll be time for work tomorrow. Relaxation is the order of the night."

Greywulf looked up in astonishment, standing and circling Jaheira, eyeing her closely and eliciting a sigh from the half-exasperated druid. "Wait, is the same Jaheira I've known for a couple years, who… who wants to relax? Run that by me again, I must have misheard."

"Just get out of here and get down and have some fun with the rest of us. If I can manage to set aside my troubles for tonight, you can as well." Jaheira insisted.

"Well… I suppose the potions can wait. Lead on."

Jaheira smiled and led the mage down the staircase to where the bar was, the majority of the occupants asleep, but their group and a few onlookers were scattered about, engaging in all the recreation the Coronet had to offer. Yoshimo was over by the dart board, competing with Bernard; with no business at the bar, the man was doing okay, though nowhere as good as the thief. Yoshimo flipped one of his throwing knives into the dart board, pinning it on the bull's-eye. "Ah... I do believe that puts me in the lead. Unless you can strike a bull's-eye on all three of your last attempts, which I have yet to see you strike just one this night, I win again... and am thus exempt from paying my bar tab for the night."

Bernard harrumphed once, glaring at the thief. "Don't you forget, if I win, you still 'ave all the dishes to wash in the kitchen."

"Of course." Yoshimo said, graciously bowing so that Bernard could step up to the line, aiming carefully. Yoshimo watched with wry amusement as the barkeep lined up his throw; the first struck directly in the red. Bernard looked up with surprise, and then turned to Yoshimo, still unconcerned. "A fluke... make your last two throws."

Bernard lined up his next throw, closed one eye... the dart hit directly beside the first. Yoshimo seemed to take notice, frowning in concern as Bernard exhaled in relief. Yoshimo stepped up to the board, examining the knives... then stalked back, staying right beside Bernard as he steadied his hands, preparing to throw his last knife...

The thud of the knife hitting the board sounded alongside an excited cheer from Bernard, Yoshimo's jaw nearly dropping at the sight. "Impossible! I... er... surely you knew I was jesting, when I made our wager-"

"Not in the least, rogue!" Bernard said triumphantly, the thief looking around for some avenue of escape as Bernard slowly backed him towards the kitchen. "There be dishes awaitin', best get to it!"

The barkeep barked a laugh as Yoshimo slunk into the kitchen, grumbling about the inconceivable luck; Bernard turned back to the board to collect the darts; he blinked as he looked at the board... the darts shimmered and disappeared, suddenly reappearing in different spots on the board, nowhere near the bull's-eye. He looked around in confusion, and then spotted Greywulf at a table across the room, lowering one hand, the remnants of a shimmering rune fading in the air. Bernard grinned at the sorcerer who tossed him a wink, downing a mug of ale as Bernard chuckled again, picking up another tray to bring in for Yoshimo to wash.

Minsc had seated himself in the biggest corner of the bar, across from a burly man, both of their arms out on the table in front of them. Their hands were locked in position to begin the arm-wrestling match, and the strain on their faces was evident has the sweat rolled and poured... well, maybe for the man across Minsc. The ranger was currently looking around with a hint of confusion on his face, even as the reddening man across from him tried with all his might to move Minsc's arm. Minsc glanced past his opponent at the line of patrons awaiting their turn at the large ranger; he called out to one of them, "Excuse me; I was listening to Boo for a moment; has the match begun yet?"

Minsc nodded as a fellow patron told him the match had started, and with a breath of anticipation, brought his arm down as hard as possible. The table splintered and broke as their arms went through it, evoking a burst of laughter from the line watching, though a few did step out, apparently changing their minds about the prospective challenge after such a demonstration. While Minsc scratched his head in confusion, Bernard rushed over to the defeated man, apologizing as he helped him up. The man winced and waved him away, stumbling off as he held his arm in pain. The ranger shrugged and stood, moving over to a new table. Seating himself comfortably, he put his arm out again, flexed his bicep once, and then called out cheerfully, "Next!"

Greywulf laughed as he watched the ranger clutch another man's hand... then winced as the sound of a table shattering echoed through the room again, Bernard flying across the room once more, another apology spilling from his lips. Turning back to Jaheira, he arched an eyebrow at the deck of cards she held in her hand, shuffling nonchalantly with a smirk across her lips. "Care for a game?"

Greywulf eyed the woman for a moment, meeting her eyes... then stretched, leaning back in his chair. "If you feel like losing, I suppose so. The game?"

Jaheira shook her head with faint yet amused irritation. "You do think so much of yourself. Standard five-card draw, one switch allowed."

Greywulf nodded, sorting out the gold the party had left into two piles between them while Jaheira dealt. Greywulf had just picked up his cards and looked at them when approaching footsteps caught both their attention; Keldorn stood above them, looking down with a wry smile. "I certainly hope you two are enjoying yourselves, taking part in such vile activities as gambling."

"Quite." Greywulf tossed back. "Care to join in? We haven't started yet, you know."

Keldorn sighed, then shrugged and settled at the table beside them. "I suppose, though I must confess I've never played much before."

"You'll learn as you go." Greywulf assured him as Jaheira dealt him a hand, divvying up a portion of gold for him as well. "Just follow our lead."

"Oh, of course." Keldorn nodded, studying his cards intently. Greywulf narrowed his eyes as he looked at his cards: two Sevens, two Threes, and one Jack. He glanced up at Jaheira, whose face in this game, as always, was absolutely unreadable. She tossed in a few extra coins to raise the bet, Greywulf following suit easily. Keldorn shrugged and gave an equal amount, merely following their lead. Greywulf raised again, leading another chorus of increasing the pile, finally settling. Jaheira tossed in two of her own cards, pulling two from the deck. He watched her face intently, hoping for some sort of sign of her cards; he shook his head, knowing he was wasting his time. If there was one of them who could keep a stone face, it was Jaheira. He glanced down at his Jack, then tossed it in. "One."

Keldorn nodded in understanding as Greywulf pulled back a card, peeking at it... inside, Greywulf let out a whoop of joy, seeing the Seven he needed uncovered. As much as he was hoping to induct Keldorn gracefully into this game, if his luck kept up like this, both Keldorn and Jaheira would be out fairly quick. Still, he kept composure and glanced over at Keldorn. "Any for you?"

"Hmm... perhaps one." Keldorn frowned, discarding and acquiring one more card. Another round of betting went by, the pile in the center slowly increasing as both Jaheira and Greywulf upped the ante, Keldorn merely keeping up. The sorcerer looked over at the paladin, shifting uncomfortably. It wouldn't do to knock him out the first round... "Er... Keldorn , you do know about folding, right? If you don't think you can win, you can stop and only lose what you've already wagered."

"Oh... hmm. Perhaps... no, I think I shall see this one through. I've never been one to give up, you know."

Greywulf shrugged, continuing the betting with Jaheira. _His loss, I suppose..._

Finally, the betting ceased, a good third of each player's gold in the middle already. Jaheira thanked Bernard as he dropped a set of mugs by each one of them, wine for Jaheira and ale for the other two. She waved for Greywulf to show his cards, taking a sip of her drink. He could not quite suppress a smirk as he laid down his full house, "Three Sevens and two Fives."

Jaheira arched one eyebrow, nodding in congratulations. "Very nice... a fine hand indeed. Normally quite unbeatable..."

Greywulf felt an icy chill go through his spine, a foreboding of what he saw coming as an equally smug expression covered her face- "Unless you have a higher value. Three Queens and two Sixes."

The sorcerer groaned once, leaning back with a deep sigh. It had taken him a while, but now he remembered why he disliked playing this game with Jaheira so much... not only was she good, but she made sure you knew it too. The druid took another sip of her drink, and then turned to Keldorn. "Well?"

"Hmm..." Keldorn tapped his chin for a few moments as he stared at Jaheira's hand, then at his own cards. "I'm not quite certain, to be honest. Perhaps you can help me here. Is this any good?"

Greywulf nearly fell out of his chair; Jaheira tossed her own cards down with a druidic curse. Keldorn merely pulled in the pile from the middle, leaning back as he raised his mug, taking a long drink. "So four Kings and an Ace do make a good hand then."

"Didn't you say you'd never played before?" Greywulf asked with a scowl of irritation.

"Did I?" Keldorn shrugged innocently. "Odd... I don't remember saying that. Who's dealing next round?"

X X X X X X X

"You know, I thought paladins weren't supposed to participate in such 'vile activities' as gambling." Greywulf noted as Keldorn dealt the final hand of the night, the older man glancing up at Greywulf with a chuckle. The whole bar had pretty much retired for the night, all the others in the party long having since headed to bed. Jaheira had been knocked out of the game a few rounds earlier, and any of the bar patrons who had been watching were either asleep or passed out. Even Bernard was sleeping behind the counter, his loud snores almost the equivalent of Minsc's.

"We're not allowed, technically. I wasn't always a paladin though, you know. Still, as long as you swear not to tell anyone... the Prelate of the Order and I have had more than a few card games. Usually with a few other senior knights of the Order."

"So why the official stance?" Greywulf chuckled.

"To mess with the squires." Keldorn stifled a laugh as he finished his mug. "Every new squire would have a deck with them on their missions if they thought it was allowed. Keeps their minds on the mission."

"Right..." Greywulf said with a shake of the head, glancing at his hand. A pair of Twos and a Ten, Jack, and Queen. He considered how much to push in... then shrugged. It was the last hand, and all the money was the party's to begin with... "All in."

Keldorn looked mildly surprised as Greywulf pushed in the whole of his pile, Keldorn following suit. "Somewhat premature, don't you think?"

"Not at all... unless we're betting with something aside from the party's money."

"That almost sounded like a challenge of sorts." Keldorn smirked. "Are you considering raising the stakes?"

The sorcerer barked a laugh, then shrugged. "Maybe. What'll you wager?"

"Oh, you've nothing I need... I shall be quite content with bragging rights." Keldorn shook his head. "But if you feel so reckless with your own money, feel free to add some terms of your own."

The wizard thought long and hard for a few moments, scratching his head as he tried to think of a suitable wager. "Well… a few combat lessons would be fine; your blade against my staff."

"Combat training?" Keldorn said quizzically. "You're already proficient in the use of your quarterstaff; unless you anticipate spending much time on the front lines in combat, you shouldn't need more than that."

"Let's just say that my encounter with Tazok has made me a bit more... cautious." Greywulf exhaled, draining the last of the ale in his tankard. "Honestly... if that pile of crates I'd landed in had been filled with food instead of weapons, we'd all be dead right now. Sooner or later, some maniacal tyrant is going to think it's funny to make me fight someone alone again, and I don't intend to have the battle swing on luck. So what do you say? My pile if you win, yours and three lessons if I win."

Keldorn nodded, and without further ado, he tossed in three of his cards, silently taking the same number back. Greywulf's eyes narrowed as he saw it; not boding well for Keldorn's chances, but the paladin had turned out to be a bluffer on par with Jaheira... reading his face was impossible. Greywulf considered his chances; better odds in completing his straight, or in getting a higher number of twos? He continued to study them, trying to make his decision... "You do know about folding, right?" Keldorn's echo of his previous words stung, true; Greywulf refused to respond and instead tossed in two of his cards. A look of surprise crossed Keldorn's face, but he merely nodded, then drew two more and slid them to Greywulf. The sorcerer looked at them, his eyes narrowing... He tossed down a Nine, Ten, Jack, Queen, and King, triumph on his face.

Keldorn took one look at them, then nodded with a smile. "Well played. I think you've won this round." He tossed his own hand down: a Two of Clubs, Five of Hearts, a Ten of Diamonds, a King of Spades, and a Three of Clubs. Greywulf frowned at the paladin, "You had nothing the whole time? Even when we agreed to a new wager?"

"It's called a bluff, son. One of many things I shall attempt to teach you in combat tomorrow morning." Keldorn said, suppressing a yawn. "I also believe that as the winner, you have the privilege of cleaning up. I shall see you in the morn."

Greywulf shook his head in disbelief as the paladin left him to collect all the gold again, and then trek back up to his room. He opened the door quietly, not wishing to wake Jaheira as he slid inside; he noticed with a frown that the bed on the other side of the room was empty. Her armor and spear were lying at the foot of the bed as was normal, but she was nowhere to be found. He set his own belongings down and walked over to the bed, looking around curiously for any sign of her; glancing out the window, he sighed in relief to spy a small but familiar figure sitting out on the corner of the Coronet by herself.

He slipped his robes on again, wrapping himself in his grey cloak and taking his quarterstaff in hand, he descended to the exit of the Coronet and out into the chilly night air. Walking over to where his window overlooked the street, he found Jaheira sitting alone, her gaze seemingly focused on a street puddle between her feet. "As I recall," Greywulf said just loudly enough to awake her from her thoughts, "Someone told me that relaxation was the order of the night."

She looked up briefly and smiled at his presence, then returned to her thoughts. "You didn't need to come out here. I would have been in… just a minute longer."

"Maybe, but you left your spear and armor inside, and it would be a shame to meet your end outside an inn getting mugged when you think of everything else we've survived." Greywulf noted, glancing out into the night at the sound of someone shouting, echoing from somewhere in the depths of the Slums.

"As opposed to getting pin-holed by a group of three bandits?" she countered. "I am quite capable of defending myself, fully armored or not. You would not mistake me for a defenseless damsel, would you?"

"Er… never. I get the feeling I wouldn't have enough feeling in my mouth or entire jaw to express such a falsehood for more than a few seconds. And as far as the 'pin-holing' incident you refer to, that doesn't count." Greywulf defended. "I'm still alive... thanks to you."

"Don't start counting." she waved him off, scooting over so he could sit beside her. "The times we have saved one another's lives are too numerous to start keeping track now."

"Perhaps, but actually dying? I can't say I've ever brought you back from that. By my count you've got one up on me there."

Jaheira stood, shivering slightly, her arms wrapped around herself. Greywulf frowned, untying his cloak, he handed it to her, the druid wrapping herself in it gratefully. "There... there is an ill wind in the air. Do you feel it? I feel a storm inside, in the distance."

Greywulf glanced at the half-cloudy sky, obscuring the full moon that would have otherwise been visible that night. "Do you mean the actual weather, or is this a prophecy of a sort?"

"I don't know what I meant." Jaheira said, sighing as he wrapped one arm around her shoulder, letting their bodies warm each other. "They say you shiver when someone walks over your grave. I feel as though they've been marching back and forth across mine."

Greywulf remained silent, merely holding her tightly in a mutual side-embrace. "A parable for change, isn't it? Not death but change."

"I don't know. Let's just get inside, get some sleep, and it will pass. If you don't mind, Greywulf, I would walk in step with you. I…just need someone near me."

They walked back into the inn together, falling into their respective beds, both tired beyond measure. As they lay in silence, Greywulf's voice broke through the silence. "Jaheira, what happened tonight? You were in such good spirits, better than my own."

"I… I have been worried lately, that's all. So much has passed since the Harper Hold, since we encountered Reviane... but we have stayed relatively safe. I worry that the worst is yet to come, that I will be pitted against my kin soon, and the thought… I dread it."

"We stand with you, Jaheira. We will fight for you, no matter what." Greywulf answered.

He waited her answer, but none came, Jaheira succumbing to sleep to drown her worries away. Greywulf nodded once in the dark, then whispered to himself, the heat of her touch and faint scent of her hair still clouding his mind and his heart more than he cared to admit. "We…I stand with you. I will not fail you, Jaheira."

X X X X X X X

The pillows on the bed were crumpled and damp, mostly from how tightly Aerie had been clutching them, as well as the tears she had been desperately trying to stop shedding since locking herself in for the night. It wasn't that she was even really sad now; the sorrow and desperation she had felt back out in the streets of Athkatla had subsided... she just didn't know how to deal with this. Greywulf's words echoed in her mind; what did she want, really? She didn't want to die, she knew that much. She also didn't want to leave the group; as much as she might have sounded like that before, given time to consider it, she saw how great a loss that would be in her life. Quayle would gladly take her back in, she knew that... but she couldn't go back. Not under those circumstances, and never permanently again. This world was her future; she just didn't know how to deal with that fact. Something had to change, but what?

Aerie exhaled, wiping her eyes again as she tried to calm herself, tried to find the peace and the strength that Minsc and Greywulf had assured her she had. Greywulf's words, describing the version of her he had seen in the dream; she so desperately wanted to be like that. She wanted to be proud, confident, rather than self-conscious all the time, worried about what people thought of her, unable to be firm and assertive in her decisions... she took another deep breath, still unsure of how she would continue, but solid in the knowledge that she was going to find a way. It was so hard, such a battle to do this-

Aerie paused, her thoughts jumbling for a moment as she considered what she had just thought; a battle? It was familiar, somehow. She bit her lip as she racked her memory, trying to find what was bugging her so strongly-

_"You have a spark of purity and a strength that is rare in those who live your life. You draw strength from those around you as well; Treasure that, Aerie. Treasure it and hold it close... for the time will come when you face your greatest test. All your light and all your strength will mean nothing if you do not use it now; you have done well and grown much as one of these good men and women... but the most important battle will be waged on your own."_

Queen Dianya's words suddenly reverberated through her mind, Aerie's eyes opening wide as she considered them in a new light. She was right... this wasn't a fight she could depend on Minsc to win, or Greywulf to support her through. All along, that's what she had been trying to do, trying to find her strength and support everywhere but herself. Tried to use a relationship with Greywulf, the support of her Uncle Quayle, everyone and every good thing given to her, rather than testing her own ability. Dianya had seen it, and warned her of it. Swallowing hard, Aerie tried to picture herself as she had once been, long ago in Faenya-Dail. She remembered soaring through the clouds, confident and vibrant with energy and confidence, taking such joy in her artistry, in acting on the stage of the clouds... a smile crossed her lips as she sat there, reveling in her memories. As much as her wings had meant to her back then... none of it had anything to do with the things she had taken the greatest satisfaction and joy in while living in the skies. She still had the talent as an artist and a mage, the ability to act and to perform her clerical duties... but how long had it been since she'd been confident about it? Too long... far too long. But no longer.

Aerie sat up, silently calming herself. No longer would she be a slave to her lost wings; no more would she allow those around her to do what she could do for herself. Her life was her own... and not surprisingly, it was still worth living. She felt another tear run down her face, this time one of joy and happiness, the first in a long time. She whispered up a prayer of thanks to Baervan Wildwanderer and Aerdie Faenya, then a blessing on Dianya for the aid she had been. As soon as her mouth stopped moving, an almost audible voice seemed to echo through her head, _"If anyone deserves a blessing, it is you, child. I am proud of you, Aerie. You have won your battle... and hope yet remains. Live well, Aerie. Live long, and live well."_

In her palace of wood and leaf in Letherel, Dianya opened her eyes with a smile. "Live well."


	43. Part 2: Plans Gone Awry

A faint glimmer of sunlight trickled through the curtains of the inn, slowly and gently illuminating the sleeping form on the bed, covers strewn about his body. Despite the generally poor quality of the inn, the bed was more than sufficient to grant the slumbering man a good night's rest; as such he was more than content to lie there and soak up the first few rays of sun to hit him, warming the covers and tightening the grip he held on his pillow as he nestled himself even further in sleep's embrace, away from all the worries and troubles of the waking world-

"You awake? Or do you intend to sleep all day? We have work to do and you have potions to make by my recollection."

The voice echoed in Greywulf's head, frowning as he was wrenched from his slumber. The disturbance hadn't been as loud as it could have been; there was still a small chance he could fall back asleep if he really tried... he grunted and pulled the blanket that he was so comfortably wrapped in over his head, hoping the voice would take the hint and leave.

"If you insist..." The voice continued, a small hope that he might have been victorious entered Greywulf's head… with a mighty bellow, he found his blankets pulled out from under him, sending him tumbling out onto the floor. Rubbing his head in pain, he looked up to see Jaheira standing over him in smug satisfaction, Minsc standing beside her with Greywulf's blankets in hand.

"That was not nice…" Greywulf mumbled with a scowl, his eyes half-open.

"Boo says you should go to sleep earlier." Minsc said, throwing the blankets to one side as he extended a hand to Greywulf, pulling the sorcerer up to his feet. "If Boo does not get his eight hours of rest, he grows very cranky. You do not want to see Boo cranky. The forces of evil would flee for their lives if Boo ever unleashed his mighty sleep-deprived anger upon them in battle."

"I'm sure." Greywulf said with a yawn. "You can head on back now; I rather doubt I could get back to bed with this headache."

Minsc left the room while Jaheira put her hands on her hips, staring him down with one eyebrow arched. "Did you enjoy my wake-up? I thought you would."

"Is this revenge for that incident with the potions last night?" he asked with mild irritation. "Because if so, I bow to your superior pranking skills. Now can I get changed, or have you strung my robes on the flagpole in the center of Waukeen's Promenade?"

Jaheira snickered and waved him off as she left the room, leaving Greywulf alone to dress himself fully. Despite the wake-up, her mood was drastically improved from the night before; it did his heart good to see her with a renewed cheer and not so engulfed by her worries about the Harpers. No matter what he felt- rather, what he thought he felt about her, she was still his closest and most trusted member of his family, second only to Imoen. After all she had been through, she deserved some measure of peace. Perhaps she might find it, so close to finding both Irenicus and Imoen.

He finished changing and left the rooms Hendak had given them at the Coronet, proceeding to meet with the rest of the party downstairs. The bar was still mostly quiet and empty, few awake at this early hour. Bernard had arisen to make them a breakfast, the remains of which were slim after a few minutes at the table. Greywulf considered their options and what needed to be done before the night had come, "We must be prepared for tonight. I still have a few more potions to make, but it wouldn't be a bad idea for some of you to go check out the area where we'll be watching; I should be almost through by the time you get back."

"I shall scout ahead for the group; I for one have had quite enough of dishwashing." Yoshimo volunteered with a quick glance at the inn kitchen where Bernard was just emerging, drying his hands on the apron around his waist. "I would not be adverse if any of you wish to accompany me."

Jaheira nodded, checking the tightness of the dagger she held on her belt as she stood from the table.

"Where evil may be found, Minsc and Boo will be there. So, we will join you." Minsc said solemnly.

"I suppose I should try and keep you out of trouble." Aerie laughed, poking Minsc in the side; it would not be an understatement to say that everyone noticed the change in the Avariel's temperament from the last time they had seen her. She caught Greywulf's eye and he could swear she threw him a quick wink; the memory of his dream flashed through his mind, Greywulf smiling broadly as realization hit him. _You found your strength, Aerie... I knew you could._

"I'll remain with Greywulf. We have a few things to talk about, so it is just as well." Keldorn noted, nodding to the others as they took their leave, tossing a few thanks Bernard's way as they exited the Coronet.

Keldorn sat across from Greywulf at a large table Bernard had set aside for them, the paladin holding his sword across his lap as he ran a stone across it, sharpening it with a keen eye as laid out the ingredients from his belt, mixing them feverishly as he worked to complete the potions for their tasks. Keldorn finished rather quickly, the magic of Torm's blade proving to be quite a bit better at keeping an edge than most swords. He uncorked a small container of oil and cleaned the blade and his sheath while Greywulf finished the last of his alchemy, the work progressing quicker than he had expected, thanks to the experience of the previous night's work.

A sigh escaped his mouth as he corked the last potion, setting them on the table in a neat line. The gem glowed green as he brought it close to them, signifying the success of his work. He tucked one potion into his belt, handing one to Keldorn. "Looks like you're ready for tonight." the paladin said with a nod, eyeing the potion offered him.

"Just about. Of course I've never actually faced a vampire before... I'm not really sure what to expect, to tell the truth. I've heard all the stories and legends, but how much of that is myth and how much is real? You've fought a vampire before, right?" Greywulf asked as the two of them cleaned off the table and took the potions back up to their rooms.

"Once. Very long ago, back before I was even a paladin, just a knight." Keldorn said, thinking back as they descended the stairs back down to the inn hall. "A group of knights had been assigned to clean out a crypt that had been infested with undead... nothing too powerful, just a simple cleanup for us to gain experience."

"Let me guess: things didn't quite go as planned." the wizard noted.

"When does it ever?" Keldorn smiled wryly. "Sure enough, the creatures we found were far more powerful than anything we had been prepared for. Skeletons and zombies opposed us to begin with, creatures we could handle easily enough. Soon enough we found wraiths, shadow fiends, ghouls; a skeleton warrior ambushed our leader and nearly killed him before we could bring the beast down. But I digress: amateurs that we were, we never thought about pulling back and sending for reinforcements who knew what they were doing; we just kept pushing forward, until all but six of us had been killed from the twenty who were originally sent. We did prevail though, and made it to the inner sanctum where the undead poured from. Inside we found a lone vampire; she had apparently been gathering an army for some vile purpose; we had unwittingly destroyed it. Needless to say, she was very displeased with us; of the six of us who faced her, only I and one other survived, a young squire still in her teens by the name of Irlana. She guards the door of the Order Hall now, if my memory serves me correctly... but I digress."

"You killed her then?" Greywulf asked, Keldorn's brow knitting with the memory.

"Technically a vampire is already dead, but yes. She had just killed the fourth of our number, when I managed to get in a sweeping blow around the thigh. It caused her leg to collapse on her, giving Irlana time to get in a blow across the back. Her physical form collapsed and her spirit was forced to retreat back to her coffin, completely incapacitated. Neither of us had any experience with this sort of thing, but like you, we heard legends. I grabbed the first sharp piece of wood I could find and with one slam into the heart, she turned to dust and ashes. Turns out that particular legend is true."

"Interesting. Any other ways of killing a vampire you know of?"

"Sunlight will do the trick if you can get them out in it for long enough; one man I met told me that if you cut off their heads, stuff their mouths with garlic and then tear off their ears, they'll stay down. Still, this was the same man I arrested for causing a disturbance in the Temple District. He kept running around with his underwear on his head... his testimony is somewhat unreliable."

"Somewhat?"

Keldorn shrugged, slipping his sword back into the sheath he had cleaned and strapping it to his side again. "It's an idea, I suppose."

"Tell you what; you try it if we go up against Bodhi's guild. Me, I'll just take an old quarterstaff and sharpen the end." Greywulf said, rolling his quarterstaff back and forth between hands. "Up for those combat lessons we talked about?"

"If you think you're ready." Keldorn said, shrugging as he drew the Hallowed Redeemer and faced Greywulf.

"Er… perhaps we should move away from all the nice bar patrons who don't want to get their heads chopped off." Greywulf voiced, looking at the rapidly filling bar.

"Or is it because you don't want to embarrass yourself as you drop your staff time after time?" Keldorn said with a smile. "Trust me, it'll happen."

"Yes well, perhaps the old gladiatorial pits?" Greywulf suggested, not answering Keldorn's insinuation.

"Lead on." Keldorn said, suppressing a laugh.

X X X X X X X

"You must be the contact we were supposed to meet tonight. I am Yoshimo… it is my pleasure to make your acquaintance." Yoshimo said, giving his most charming grin to the cloaked and hooded lady before him, taking her hand to kiss it gently.

Mook rolled her eyes as the bounty hunter kissed her hand, then drew it up and whipped her other hand around with a dagger, resting near Yoshimo's groin. "None of that while I'm on patrol, or you'll gain a few octaves to your singing voice."

Yoshimo gave an apologetic smile, and then drew back slowly to the other three with him, ignoring the looks they shot his way. Jaheira shook her head, pushing past Yoshimo to greet Mook. "We are part of the group Aran Linvail has sent to help you secure the deliveries for tonight. We had come early to get a feel for the area we will be defending."

"Not like it'll be much to look at, but if you really want to, follow me." Mook said, leading the four companions around, heading for the docks they would be stationed at.

As she spoke, Yoshimo leaned over to Minsc and said, "She wants me."

Minsc looked at him confusedly, then shrugged and continued to listen as he scratched Boo. "This is the dock our supplier will be arriving at tonight." Mook explained. "Our men on board will handle the monetary business, while we oversee the unloading and make sure that our own people get here to take the crates out safely. Any questions?"

Nobody said anything, but Jaheira just nodded and said, "What happens if we encounter resistance from the other guild? Are we clear to engage?"

"Make sure I've done the same first; Aran may have put you out here, but you're still no Shadow Thieves. And that means I'm in charge, got it?" Mook said, more than a hint of challenge in her voice.

Jaheira smirked, nodding to the thief. "Perfectly. I sense a lack of trust... the feeling is mutual, brigand."

Mook's eyes narrowed, but she was interrupted by Yoshimo, the man slipping past Jaheira to Mook's side. "Er... to clarify, you said nothing funny while you were on patrol. Technically, patrol doesn't begin until tonight, yes?"

Mook looked at Yoshimo with a cryptic smile... then leaned over and grabbed him by the tunic, kissing him. Pushing him away after a few seconds, she turned on her heel and left the dazed bounty hunter there watching her leave. Jaheira and Aerie had already headed out, Minsc waiting for Yoshimo as the two hurried to catch up with the women. Yoshimo leaned over to Minsc with a wink and said, "I told you she wanted me."

Still, the relative ease of their future directions brought good spirits to the group, all the way back to the Copper Coronet. They arrived a little before noon, finding Hendak at the bar once more, returned from his journey. He greeted them, "Ah, good to see you once more. I must confess I have grown rather fond of this place and the people here; while I miss my homeland, it is no longer my home. But surely you did not come to listen to my ramblings; you seek your companions, yes? Bernard informed me they were in the old gladiatorial pits."

They headed back to the abandoned pits, the sound of battle faintly echoing back to them as they got closer, a metallic noise ringing alongside the sound of wood striking as well. Greywulf and Keldorn were face to face with weapons drawn, Greywulf obviously struggling, sweating heavily while Keldorn merely seemed to be enjoying himself. The wizard made another swing with his staff, coming down from high left, but Keldorn merely sidestepped and added his own sword's force by slapping downward swiftly, knocking the staff to the ground with a clatter. Greywulf snorted with disgust as he bent down to pick the staff up, only to be interrupted by clapping from his friends.

"He's on the ropes, Greywulf! Keep it up! A few more minutes and he won't be able to defend himself because he'll be laughing too hard!" Yoshimo called.

Greywulf gave the man a withering look, and then picked up the staff again, while Keldorn said with great intensity, "Forget them, Greywulf. Focus only on me, your target. I am all that exists in your mind, the only thing that matters…"

Greywulf made another swing, this time bringing the lower end of the staff up. Keldorn blocked, but sent the blade to the side, Keldorn easily bringing his sword up to Greywulf's chest in the time with his staff trapped above it. Greywulf exhaled loudly as Keldorn sheathed his sword again. "I think that's enough for now. Besides, the others have arrived."

"I noticed." Greywulf muttered, glancing at Yoshimo.

"You're not too bad." Keldorn said, patting Greywulf on the back. "You're obviously skilled with the staff, but you're too focused on defense; buying time and distance to cast spells. If that is denied to you, you must know how to go on the offensive as well. Your attacks are definitely clumsier, and sometimes it felt like you were trying to stab me with the staff instead of strike me. You can't make the same swings, the same attacks with a staff that you see me do with a sword. You will learn how to attack better in time... though you must also learn not to hold back when we train."

"You noticed that, hmm?" Greywulf said between breaths.

"In the first few minutes, anyway... I was surprised, to tell the truth, especially considering your performance against Tazok. The adrenaline rush and stress of your fight with Tazok gave you more of a reason to fight, true, but consider our sessions of no less importance."

"I'll do that... but a few less cracks from the peanut gallery would be nice." Greywulf added as they reached the others.

"Greywulf, fighting with a staff is well and good, yes indeed... but it would be even better if you should learn the great art of buttkicking with a sword!" Minsc noted vehemently. "Just imagine, one day we will charge into battle, and as I fight, Boo will tell me to look over there to the left, and it will take me a moment to figure out whether it is my left or his left, but either way it will be a left indeed, and you could be fighting with a sword! Remember the old saying: Live by the sword… live a good, long, time!"

Greywulf shook his head wryly, "That's all right Minsc... magic is more than good enough for me. Regardless, did you get the information about our job tonight?"

"Yes, Jaheira talked with our contact. She gave us the location and our responsibilities; all we have to do is show up before nightfall." Aerie answered.

"Then we should restock our supplies in the meantime with the gold we have left. Once we've done so, we can wait at the Docks again; although before I forget, I've made enough potions for each one of us. If we get into vampire fighting, they'll come in handy."

"Indeed." Keldorn nodded as everyone took the offered vials. "We would be wise to acquire some vampire hunting tools; stakes and holy water at the very least. The stakes would be easy to produce on our own if necessary, but holy water might be a bit more difficult to acquire."

"In a city with an entire district devoted to Temples, one could not find Holy Water amidst them all?" Yoshimo chuckled.

Keldorn shrugged, though the slight curl at the edge of his mouth told of appreciation for the irony. "Any priest can bless a container of water, but the spells needed to fight the undead and make it so powerfully effective are not used in many places; the few remaining vampires left in this world remember the days of the Great Hunts and do not wish to spark them anew. They do not show their faces as often or as prominently as this Bodhi does, and thus the tools to fight them are rare to find."

"Then let's get moving. The sooner we prepare, the better off we'll be."

They talked to Bernard and purchased all the food and supplies they would need for their next stretch of traveling, and then headed to the temple district. Unfortunately, Keldorn's words proved to be quite prophetic: no temple, from Helm to Lathander, carried any vampire hunting tools at all. Even as they left the last one, Keldorn sighed, shaking his head. "I fear I was correct; it seems that the art of vampire hunting has declined even more since I last checked. I fear if we desire weapons to combat this menace we will have to fashion them ourselves."

Aerie shrugged and pointed out, "From what Mook told us, it didn't sound like there would be a great number of vampires to fight tonight; we might not even encounter them at all. We should be able to get by without any weapons tonight."

"I agree with Aerie." Jaheira nodded. "It will be simple enough to fashion some stakes tomorrow; for a price we could possibly persuade a temple to make a few vials of holy water as well."

After a bit of discussion, they decided that it would be best to order such materials from the Temples while they were yet there, Keldorn and Jaheira making their way once more through the Temples in hopes of finding one that would be willing to make the necessary weaponry. Yoshimo had elected to show Minsc some of the finer points of stealth and hiding, after Minsc had off-handedly mentioned his stealth training as a ranger. Aerie stifled a laugh as she watched Yoshimo slink across a building wall, covered in shadow; Minsc following behind and doing the same... though he was just tall enough that his head was not quite shadowed, the gleam of the sun reflecting off his head.

"Not exactly a rogue, is he?" Aerie mentioned, resting against a banister overlooking the river running through the District.

Yoshimo slapped his face with a shake of the head as the ranger began tiptoeing exaggeratedly across a stretch of street. Greywulf laughed and answered her, "Maybe not, but you might be surprised... I've seen Minsc when he tries to be stealthy. It's hard to remember it because we think of him as a warrior so often, but Minsc is a ranger through and through. Stealth, tracking, pathfinding... Minsc can do it all, at least when he's not shouting down the enemy."

"And that?" Aerie pointed out the ranger's ridiculous attempts at keeping himself hidden from view of every passerby, covering his eyes with his hands while Yoshimo groaned.

"Oh, that's him just messing with Yoshimo." Greywulf snickered. "He did the exact same thing with Imoen when she asked what he knew about sneaking around, ranger and all. Just wait for it..."

Yoshimo had just finished apologizing to another pedestrian who had taken great lengths to go around the pair in the streets, the bounty hunter assuring him that both of them were well and fine, completely sane. Turning back to Minsc... Yoshimo frowned, Minsc nowhere to be seen. He looked back and forth, making a complete circle, quite unable to find the ranger. Yoshimo opened his mouth to say something- then whirled around, finding Minsc behind him, a broad grin on his face. The rogue nodded in appreciation. "So, you would play the fool to me in order to show off. Stealthy in more ways than one, my large friend. Perhaps I should teach you how to pickpocket now, hmm?"

"Oh no... if Minsc ever became a thief, he would have to buttkick himself... and even Minsc fears the wrath of his own righteous fury."

"If the two of you are quite finished..." Jaheira's accented tone echoed across the way to them as Keldorn and the druid approached, finished with their task. "We should be moving. By the time we arrive at the Docks and get situated it will be close to sunset."

Aerie sighed and pushed herself off the railing overlooking the water, falling into line with the rest. Her face brightened a bit as she noticed Greywulf had forsaken his usual spot in lead, letting Keldorn and Jaheira continue without him for the moment. He walked with her for a few moments before bringing up the topic that was undoubtedly on both of their minds. "So... how are you feeling? I meant to ask you earlier, but as you know, things got busy."

Aerie bowed her head, a look of appreciation on her face, "I… I did what you told me to, you and Minsc last night. I did a lot of thinking, really; imagining what awaited me, how I could deal with it. I don't really know how I came to it, or what changed... but I wanted you to know I have come to a decision."

"And that is?" Greywulf inquired.

"I am determined to face this life on the ground, Greywulf." Aerie said; at that moment, despite the size of her frame, the light body most people would perceive as a sign of weakness... the newfound strength in her face and in her voice was never more apparent. "My wings are gone and that can never be changed. I must learn to appreciate the beauty that I can still see... and those who bring that beauty to my life. I hope that you will be here to teach me about it, Greywulf; you and Minsc and the others… you're my family now. I… I hope you will be here to show me how to live on the ground and still be happy."

"I'd like that, Aerie." Greywulf said gently, his faith and hopes in Aerie justified.

Aerie exhaled loudly, as though releasing a great weight she had previously been carrying. "I am beginning to wonder what I would have done if you had not come along, Greywulf. Thank you so much... thank you for believing in me when I didn't. Whatever is between us, or might be... just know that I owe you more than I can ever repay."

He nodded and remained silent, noticing that as they had spoken, Minsc had come to her side as well. Even though he towered over her in size and bulk, he looked at her with such earnestness to protect her, to keep her safe and be her guardian; Greywulf knew that if anything, Minsc would always be there for her. Aerie noticed him as well and smiled, letting his massive hand take hold of hers. Greywulf ventured back to the front of the line, knowing that Aerie would be okay. She was looking for a purpose in life, a reason for living, and he believed she had found one in being Minsc's witch. She just hadn't realized it yet... but that might finally be changing.

X X X X X X X

The sound of seagulls calling out to each other, flocking back and forth amidst the ships docked and through the air in the district was a mite unsettling; like most things, the threat of even familiar sounds in the dark was magnified greatly. Still, despite any fears or unreasonable worries, things had proceeded well that night; their stakeout had been unnecessary thus far, no trouble rearing its ugly head as feared.

Aerie sighed as she looked over the crates they were sitting behind, peering at the ship as the dock workers moved to await the incoming ship, only minutes from docking. She stifled a yawn that was trying to force its way from her mouth, Jaheira glancing over at her. "Tired? Try and remain on guard; if the vampires are to attack, it will be after the ship docks. We cannot afford a lapse in judgment now."

"Don't worry about me, Jaheira; do you have so little faith in me?" Aerie returned, allowing herself a hint of a smile as she noticed the briefest flash of surprise cross Jaheira's face, perhaps in the fact that Aerie even returned her counsel with something besides a meek nod.

"No... I only seek to remind us all of what is at stake." Jaheira pointed out. "Capable you may be, but you are still most likely the least experienced of us all; I merely try to add some necessary advice."

"Necessary?" Aerie raised one eyebrow. "Perhaps you may consider it so, but it might be more welcomed if asked for or wanted. If there is a failure in watch, it will not come from me."

"So says the proud before the fall." Jaheira tossed back. "No matter how much we all grow, there is always room for failure, usually by our own hubris. Do not let that cloud your vision."

"With all respect, Jaheira... you are one to talk of hubris." Aerie retorted, though her voice did not move an inch from its previous level. Inwardly, Aerie veritably shook with adrenaline... when did this happen? When was she able to stand up to the words of the domineering, intimidating specter of Jaheira? Somehow it had happened... and she wasn't backing down.

"You may be right on some level, I might take some unnecessary pride in my own abilities; but I know my limitations, and my faults. Make certain you can see your own; the worst flaws are those you cannot see in yourself." Jaheira said, her temperament also calm and level, but there was that familiar steel in her voice as well.

"I will find those flaws in time... and on my own. If I need aid, I will be sure to ask. Until then..."

The two women locked gazes for a moment; Aerie refusing to turn her eyes from Jaheira. If she backed off now, she'd never be able to do this again; she had to be strong here, now... Jaheira nodded, "I had been told you were different; that you had found a strength of sorts. I see I was told correctly; I shall respect your wishes then. Do not expect advice from me unless you ask for it."

Aerie's eyes narrowed, unsure as to whether it was a compliment or insult, but Jaheira merely turned back to her watch, leading Aerie to eventually do the same. Greywulf glanced over at the two ladies; he had overheard the conversation and found it to be strangely unsettling. It appeared that Aerie and Jaheira were still at odds; if anything, the animosity between the two ladies was just no longer as suppressed but more open, especially now that Aerie was learning to give back what Jaheira dished out so easily. He winced, imagining a possibly inescapable explosion of tempers between the two at some point; between Jaheira's druidic magics and Aerie's clerical and wizardly power, a battle between the two would be something to see indeed. Shaking the unpleasant thought from his head, he turned back to the watch, turning to the Shadow Thief stationed alongside them.

"It looks like your crew is already moving to unload the materials; do you think anyone will show up tonight?"

"I cannot be certain…" Mook frowned as she shifted her position, one hand resting on the hilt of her sword at all times. "I have not seen anything... but my instincts tell me otherwise. Something is coming... but I do not know what."

"If there's anything I've learned as an adventurer, it's to trust your gut over your eyes." Greywulf advised. "What do you suggest?"

"I am not sure; the deliveries are taking place as normal, and the men on board the ship have not reported anything unusual. Everything seems like it's turning out fine... wait. The men on board are unloading the crates... the men on board? Gods, no."

"What is it?" Greywulf asked, immediately on alert as Mook stood from their position, staring at the ship itself; the rest of the group had taken notice and stood as well, weapons drawn. "To the ship! Go!"

Mook's cry was heeded immediately, and the seven of them darted over, surrounding the gangplank leading onto the ship, blocking a group of three seamen who were carrying crates off board. "What do you think you're doing?"

The three men eyed Mook curiously; one answered, "Just unloading the weapons like ordered-"

"Except you were never ordered to unload, our men on land were supposed to take care of that!" Mook snarled, fingering a small crossbow from her side in the dark. "Let me see your authorization papers."

The three glanced at each other; they stepped back onto the ship, setting their crates down while one dug into his pocket for the papers- A snarl from behind them drew their attention, a pair of vampires lunging out at the adventurers from landside. One barreled into Minsc, the two tumbling over and over the ground, Minsc's hands grasping the vampire's wrists, trying desperately to keep the undead monster from tearing his throat out. The other had slammed one claw across Jaheira's chest plate, the armor ripping open as the druid fell back. Aerie swung her own staff around in an attempt to block the sudden attack, just barely keeping the vampire's second attack from connecting directly in her gut.

Keldorn stepped over to where Minsc fought his own opponent, the two still struggling on the ground as neither could get the upper hand in their battle of strength; Keldorn raised his sword high, watching closely, waiting for them to be still for the slightest of moments- the sword came down and decapitated the vampire, the blade landing an inch from Minsc's head. Minsc glanced at the nearby sword, then smiled, accepting Keldorn's hand in pulling him to his feet, both immediately turning back to the vampire that was dodging back and forth between the others. Greywulf frowned as he noticed the two warriors move up, surely providing a quick end to the lone remaining vampire. Such a small force; the Shadow Thieves alone should have been able to repel it without their aid. Could Linvail have been wrong?

A gurgling sound caught his attention; turning quickly he saw Mook clutching her neck, blood seeping out from her fingers as she staggered back and forth; the three men they had been ready to question before the attack had changed color, paler and thinner, their true identities revealed as the one with a bloodied mouth leapt at Greywulf, snarling with fangs bared. Greywulf swung his staff out, the end of the staff jabbing it right in the mouth, stopping it cold. Minsc had also seen the threat; leaving Keldorn to deal with the vampire at their front, he brought both of his axes in a sweep to end the life of the second leaping vampire. The third and final one hissed and sputtered as it watched its comrade's fall; overconfidence had proven their downfall. He backed up slowly as the six party members pursued it back onto the ship, cornering it at the front of the boat. Jaheira moved up with her spear, intending to pin it to the boat; a ray of dark magic jolted from the vampire's hand, draining the life from Jaheira with a start. She stumbled back while the vampire hissed in satisfaction. Leaping from the prow of the boat, the others looked over just in time to see it swim over to land, unnaturally fast as it darted out into the darkness.

"No use... we'll never find it now." Keldorn put one arm up, blocking Greywulf from pursuing. "We should check the boat; I'll see if there are any survivors."

Greywulf nodded and motioned for Yoshimo to join him, the two quickly moving out into the rooms and stores of the boat. Minsc and Aerie were by Mook's body, examining her; Aerie looked up at Greywulf with a somber expression, shaking her head. Greywulf cursed under his breath and exhaled in an attempt to control himself, Minsc gently closing the woman's lifeless eyes.

"What now?" Jaheira said, her voice a bit raspy after the hit she had taken.

"Minsc, you and Aerie make sure Keldorn and Yoshimo are all right; there might be more vampires on board, and I'd rather there be more than two together just in case."

"Minsc expected more from the vampires." the ranger noted, stepping back with Aerie while Greywulf made his way to Jaheira's side, the woman leaning up against a stack of crates in obvious pain.

"They were tough enough for me. But you're right; they weren't expecting us here; you saw how easily they killed Mook; had it just been her like they expected, they would have had an easy time of it. You'd best get moving; we'll watch the entrance."

The ranger and his witch headed into the boat as well, Greywulf leaning his hand over to feel the armor. Jaheira stiffened as his fingers touched a tear in the metal and the wet sticky blood that accompanied it. "You should get that fixed up; can't run around bleeding everywhere."

Jaheira shook her head, "No... this place is still dangerous. Some healing spells will have to do; it can be bandaged later." She muttered a few chants and incantations, enough to ease her breathing. Greywulf waited to make sure she was feeling better, and then sank down beside a docking pole on the ramp, running one hand through his hair in the dim light of the moon and oil lamps. His head was bowed a bit more than usual; his posture weary looking. "Are you all right? Something troubling you?"

"Yeah… something is. It's just starting to wear me down, you know?"

"No, no I don't actually. Perhaps if you told me what you're talking about…" Jaheira said slowly.

"I suppose I'm not making much sense, am I?" Greywulf said, standing to his feet. "It just- well, for so long, it seemed like we were... untouchable. Invincible. Before Irenicus and Bodhi, before we left Baldur's Gate. We were the... the conquering heroes, able to beat any threat, monster, plot; it was like nothing could touch us. Then Irenicus came along, and… well, you know what's happened since then. So much death: Dynaheir, Khalid, Lord De'Arnise, Belgrade, Ajantis, now Mook, and so many more that we never knew their names. It used to be that we were the ones without the casualties. That's changed, and it bothers me."

"I am glad then." Jaheira said, helping him to his feet. "Glad that you feel for these deaths as much as I do, and that it still affects you. Were that not so, I would have cause to worry."

"I guess so. Doesn't help much though."

"Perhaps not, but that is partially why we fight, so that one day, we won't have to feel the pains of such deaths any longer."

They were silent for the rest of their watch, the other four finally returning to their position. "Has any more evil shown itself?" Minsc asked, peering out into the darkness. "If so, Minsc and Boo will roll out the red carpet of justice alongside the paparazzi of boot stomping to greet the celebrities of evil!"

"That's a new one." Yoshimo commented as Greywulf and Jaheira reached their friends. "No, nothing. The red carpet of justice can remain rolled up, Minsc." Greywulf said with a weary smile, cheered by Minsc's slightly abnormal metaphors. "And the men supposed to be on the boat?"

"We found several bodies on board; they were completely drained of blood and had been so for several days before the boat docked." Keldorn said grimly. "My guess is that the vampires were on board before the ship departed for Athkatla; the undead ambushed the crewmen while still at sea and took their place. The vampires who attacked from the mainland were undoubtedly meant to flush out any protection so the vampires on board could take them by surprise."

"And it almost worked." Greywulf sighed. "We still don't know where the dockhands supposed to unload the shipments are-"

"Ho! What has transpired here? Does this boat and its cargo still belong to the Shadow Thieves?" a few shouts from the darkness drew their attention to several figures running to the dock, garbed in the cloaks and hoods of the Shadow Thieves.

"It does; if you were the contingent assigned to unload the materiel' here, you're a bit late." Greywulf replied easily.

"A small group of Nosferatu delayed our arrival; several of the group did not make it. We are lucky to be here as it is." the leader said grimly, a set of cuts running across his face. "Still, the cargo has been saved, yes?"

"As well as it could be; the crewmen are dead and so is the woman Aran Linvail assigned to guard the shipment. We have much to report to the Shadowmaster; would you rather we wait here with you until morning or deliver the news now?"

"If the vampire cabal strikes again, we will not have the strength to resist them; your guard would be much appreciated." the man bowed gratefully as the six adventurers took up watch positions,

They stayed until sunrise as promised; no further attacks were forthcoming and the delivery took place as expected in the end. The only relaxation from their vigil came when the first rays of sunlight came up over the city, illuminating the docks. With a yawn, Greywulf motioned to the others and said, "Yoshimo, go let the boatmen know we're heading back. When you get back, we'll head back to inform Linvail of what has happened."

Yoshimo ran to the boat, leapt on board and spoke with the crewmen, then returned just as swiftly, saying, "They have been informed. Let us depart."

They traveled quickly, slightly cold in the morning air, but their travel warming them as well as the sun's rays. Arriving at the headquarters for the Shadow Thieves, they were once more brought to the quarters of the Shadowmaster. He was sitting in a chair as though having awaited them all night, though he didn't seem at all tired.

"Ah, you're back. All six of you as well, that's good. And the agents arrived with the crates safely, so I suppose the mission was a success. Did Mook not come back with you? I would have assumed she wouldn't stay out there longer than necessary."

"She didn't make it; the vampires had infiltrated the boat before it even left for Athkatla. There was a diversionary attack from land while the ones on board posed as the crewmen, attacking when we moved to engage the land threat. Mook was in back; she was the first to go."

Aran shook his head and said, "Shame. She was one of my better agents… I'll be hard pressed to find someone with her skills. Still, what you tell me troubles me; the vampires have never shown that much cunning in their plans; for them to have such far reaching agents so as to move on our boats while docked at the other harbors means they must have known of our plans."

"You suspect a mole?" Greywulf raised an eyebrow.

"Perhaps... or maybe my own field operatives grow sloppy. Either way, I will find out and dispense the necessary punishment. On your half however, you did wonderfully. Most of those crates have material critical to our operations against Bodhi's guild."

"I don't suppose that'll be the last of our tasks?" Greywulf asked.

Aran laughed, apparently finding his question most humorous, the abruptly stopped, looking at them rather surprised. "Oh, you were serious. Well then, no is the answer. But, from the information we've received recently, it might be getting close. The next thing we need you to do will be tonight, so after I brief you, you might consider getting some sleep. We haven't been able to get much info on the rival guild, mostly because we haven't been able to capture any of their members. However, we just received word of two of our members who are preparing to defect to the rival guild. Their names are Jaylos and Caehan; they're meeting their contact tonight upstairs at the Copper Coronet. The contact will confirm their defection and lead them back. This is our chance to find out more info on the other guild. I want you to meet the two of them at the Coronet, pump them for as much info as possible, and then prevent them from joining the other guild when you're done with them. If that means killing them, scaring them away, I don't care, but do whatever it takes."

"You make it sound like you won't assassinate them the moment you find out if we've left them alive." Jaheira said rather pointedly.

Ignoring her comment, Linvail shrugged and continued, "You might pose as more people wanting to defect to the vampires should you desire to let them live, but so long as you get the information it matters little to me, as do their lives. Traitors warrant no mercy to me or my organization... killing them would indeed save me the time of sending my own men to do the job."

"What if the contact comes while we're still talking to them? It'll blow our cover." Aerie pointed out.

"Think of it as another opportunity." Linvail smirked. "If you so desire, kill the two defectors before the contact gets there, and you might pose as defectors yourself. Act well enough and the contact might lead you to their guild itself. I wouldn't expect you to actually enter their guild, but just the location would be an invaluable asset."

"We'll get it done." Greywulf confirmed. "Anything else?"

"Yes. Get some sleep before tonight. You all look terrible." Aran said, sipping a small glass of wine.

X X X X X X X

Imoen sweated slightly, trying to hide her fear. Two orcs had come to her cell, flanking the vampire who had been trying to turn her the whole time. They opened the cell door, allowing Bodhi entrance, then joining and standing by the door."You have come far in our short time of training. You are ready… yes, I think so."

Bodhi walked around Imoen, watching her for a moment, and then said, "Don't fear, little one. In a short few moments, you will join the ranks of the Nosferatu, and you will be immortal; my personal sorceress to fight by my side. Now, if you would just bend your neck a bit, we can start the process…"

Bodhi's cold hands pushed away her hair, as she moved closer, her fangs bared as she prepared to bite Imoen, to infect her with the dreaded taint of vampirism. As Imoen felt Bodhi's breath on her neck, she knew her time had come. It was now or never. With a lurch, she jumped forward and swept one fist back, slamming into Bodhi's cheek. The vampire grunted and staggered back, the orcs across the cell raising their weapons in alarm. They were slow, though, and Imoen's hands were already conjuring, firing a barrage of acid arrows at each, striking both and killing them. Imoen then turned back to Bodhi, who was rubbing her face painfully, her eyes narrow and cold. "So, you deceived me this whole time. So much potential you have, more so than I first guessed. A shame I must kill you now."

They circled each other in the cell, Imoen positioning herself between the door and Bodhi. As the vampire leapt at her Imoen's hands blazed with fire, snaking out and striking Bodhi on either side. She fell to the ground in pain but came up in a roll quickly. She stretched out her arm and hissed as a dark ray of magic struck Imoen, draining her life essence with each moment. Imoen cried out once, but refused to give in so easily. Her hand stretched to an orc sword, and with a quick word of power, the sword flew from the ground toward Bodhi's head.

She ducked easily, but the moment of split attention was all Imoen needed. She immediately went on the offensive, not allowing Bodhi any recovery time. Spell after spell struck the vampire, slowly but surely knocking Bodhi backward. As one more blast surged through her, Bodhi managed to crawl back to her feet, panting with effort, "This… isn't over, weakling. I cannot…be killed so easily."

"I don't have to kill you," Imoen said with great anger, "Just knock you out so I can free myself before-"

"Before I arrive?" She was cut off by a sinister voice behind her, Imoen's blood freezing at the sound. She whirled around to see Irenicus standing outside the cell, his hands already outstretched in attack position. Lightning arced from his fingertips, ripping through her body with the sound of thunderous magics echoing through the room. As Imoen cried out in pain, trying to conjure a shield against the new threat, she heard Bodhi's hiss of satisfaction behind her, and she felt the same ray of dark energy strike her from behind.

Slowly her life drained into Bodhi, until she could no longer maintain her protection against Irenicus' magics and she was barraged from both sides, Irenicus and Bodhi's magics' proving too much for her to resist. Finally, with a last scream she passed out, small wisps of steam and smoke rising from her unconscious body. As she slumped to the floor, the two villains walked over to stand over the girl, Bodhi's injuries healed by the life she had drained from Imoen. She was barely sweating now, no sign of any weakness. Bodhi bent down and prepared to strike her neck, her intent abundantly clear. Just before her fangs pierced Imoen's neck, Irenicus held her back. "Perhaps not, dear sister. You may not be able to turn her, but she could still have some use to us."

"Like what?" Bodhi asked, obviously still angry at being deceived.

"If Greywulf feels she is still alive, he will not intentionally put her in danger. If she is dead, he will have no such worries and will focus completely on me. I prefer to give myself every advantage possible."

"Yes… perhaps." Bodhi finally admitted, kicking the unconscious girl over onto her back.

"But," Irenicus added, "She doesn't necessarily have to be coherent, or even with a mind left, does she? If you must have your vengeance now, consider that."

Bodhi grinned wickedly, then bent over to put her hands on Imoen's temples, and said quietly, "Yesss…. I will at that."

_Author's Postscript: Yes, I did quote Mel Brooks' Dracula: Dead and Loving It. Fantastic movie._


	44. Part 2: Wars of the Heart

_Author's Note: Woot!! Finals week is over; sorry about the long posting delay, but like I said, school has a way of grabbing you and not letting go. Hope everyone else who was in school did well, and by way of celebration... here's a new chapter. Hope you all enjoy!_

"This is going to do wonders for our sleep cycle." Yoshimo commented, gathering his belongings.

After leaving the headquarters of the Shadow Thieves, they had headed to the Copper Coronet and taken advantage of the reserved rooms Hendak had waiting for them and gotten quite a few hours of rest. Greywulf had insisted they sleep only enough to be at full strength, as it wouldn't quite seem right for six Shadow Thieves looking to join the rival guild to wake up from the same building and walk right over to the recruiter. It was near five by the time they awoke and they had already gathered as much rest as they needed. "Quit complaining." Greywulf tossed back at him. "We won't run into vampires in the day. We might as well get used to running around at night."

"That's exactly what I mean. What if I don't want to run into vampires?" Yoshimo protested, following as Greywulf and the others left the Coronet, the afternoon air strangely chilly. "Perhaps you have little time for the affections of the damsels we encounter on our journey, but I have a reputation to maintain, you know. It would not do to scar the face of Yoshimo, Master Thief, and disappoint all the women who have fallen helplessly for my charms."

"Careful Yoshimo, you're starting to sound like Salvanas." Aerie chuckled. "You remember what happened to him?"

Yoshimo nodded, shaking his head with a laugh. "You do me wrong to think me foolish enough to proposition Jaheira in such a crude manner. Besides, she did not really set him on fire. She just threatened him-"

"Enough to make the poor elf run from the Coronet in tears." Greywulf finished. "Really, Jaheira... was that last statement you made really necessary?"

Jaheira thought for a moment... "Yes."

"Perhaps it would be best if I do not know exactly what was said." Keldorn shook his head wryly as the group left the city gates, approaching a small grove of trees lying in the outskirts of the city. "It shouldn't take us long to fashion the stakes I spoke of prior; Minsc, you brought your axes, I trust?"

Minsc grinned as he unstrapped Frostreaver from his back, patting it with one hand. The work went fairly quick; despite the short handle of the battle axe, its magical abilities made the work easier than might otherwise have been expected. A few solid branches were all that was needed anyway, it took little enough time to get a branch for each party member. Yoshimo slipped a number of daggers from his belt and distributed them amongst the party, easy tools for their carving work. It would not be a lie to say that few if any of the party had an idea of how to carve or even the basics of woodworking, but then again, making pointy sticks wasn't exactly difficult either. Still, after the fourth splinter, Minsc refused to let Aerie continue her work, taking the branch from her and insisting on allowing him to do the job for her.

Keldorn watched Minsc take the half-formed stake from Aerie with a nod, then set aside his own work to approach Minsc, seating himself beside the big man, whose attempts at whittling away the tiny slivers of wood to form a perfect stake were rather amusing to watch. Minsc nodded to Keldorn, the paladin rubbing his chin in thought. "Minsc, there is something I have been meaning to ask you for a time; you do not mind if I inquire about you?"

"Not at all! Minsc is proud to have his deeds asked about by other warriors on the path of right; ask away, friend."

"That's just it, Minsc... I have watched your deeds and your mind for a time, and I have found no source of corruption within you; your devotion to righteousness and to the defense of good is unrivaled among any man I have seen in the Order."

Minsc looked proudly at Keldorn and said, "Yes! There can be no doubt where the loyalty of Minsc lies! Nobody shall corrupt the incorruptible, change the unchangeable, ungood the goodness of… the good?" Minsc's rant slowly came to a halt, unsure of what else to say.

Keldorn merely smiled with a patient nod, "I have wondered what caused you to take the path of a ranger, and not that of a paladin? It seems to me that if anyone here is deserving of such a rank, it would be you."

Minsc looked around as if to make sure nobody was listening, then said, "Well... Minsc was always more comfortable in nature than otherwise, as is Boo. One cannot frolic in the cities as one can in nature. Also, being a paladin requires much brain as well as brawn. I do not think anyone suspects, but…but I am not the smartest person. Boo does most of the thinking, while my attention is focused on the butt-kicking."

"Rest assured, Minsc, I did not suspect at all." Keldorn nodded as he took up his wood carving tools again. "You have a noble spirit, Minsc. You are a paladin in all but name. Continue your path of goodness, ranger."

X X X X X X X

The young woman sat in her cell, eyes wide open, her shoulders slumped and weary. She seemed to be staring at nothing, the blankness in her eyes one of many signs of the void that filled her mind and her thoughts now. A drop of water fell from the dismal ceiling to her cell, landing on her hand. The girl didn't even blink; her eyes just continued to stare off into space, past the outside of her cell and the two figures that stood there, before her yet unseen by her eyes. The woman that seemed to exude darkness itself hissed once as she took a step forward, studying the fruits of her labor. Her brother did not look quite so enthralled, though if he was still capable of showing it, he might have expressed some form of congratulations for her work. His taller frame shifted a bit as he glanced down at the vampire master.

"How is she now? Does she even have a mind left?"

The woman laughed, "Dear Irenicus, Imoen doesn't have anything left anymore. Her mind has fractured, splintered into nothingness. She will pose no threat; I doubt she will ever be more than an empty shell for her remaining days. Soulless and mindless... how fitting a punishment. Yet, she is still alive and Greywulf will be able to sense her. Your plan is coming along perfectly."

"Yes… I agree, Bodhi. Greywulf is making excellent progress on his path. He will arrive here at Spellhold within the week."

"How do you know this?" Bodhi asked, looking up at Irenicus, a smirk on his face as he studied the mindless former mage, her mind despondent and empty.

"I have my ways... though not all are magical." Irenicus said knowingly. "You'll find out soon enough. Greywulf will be in for a surprise as well when he meets me, though. I've made sure of that."

The two of them glanced at Imoen once more before walking away, leaving what was once Imoen to sit alone, wondering and wandering. As the footsteps of the two of them faded, Imoen's head slowly turned, looking at where they had been. Her thoughts spasmed in and out, unable to complete themselves. _I… no, they… what? Who was… Imoen. Me. I'm… I was her? Don't know… head hurts too much; thinking just… feeling need sleep. Then… revenge. Escape. Why? Don't… can't think. Pain... magic... just need… sleep…_

X X X X X X X

Shadows flickered across the halls of the Coronet's upper floor, the boards beneath their feet creaking slightly as they made their way to the room that contained the men they sought. It had been fairly easy to use Hendak and Bernard as lookouts, ensuring that whenever the men they sought arrived at the Coronet, they knew exactly which room to find them in and that there would be no civilians lodged anywhere close by, lessening the risk of any collateral damage. It had only been a scarce few minutes since the pair had arrived and ordered their lodgings; surely the guild contact would not be there for some time. The six had discussed possibilities on how to handle the situation, and they all agreed that much of it depended on how the pair initially received them.

The door was slightly ajar, that much they could see as they drew closer, trying not to attract the attention of the men inside. No sound could be heard, either the two were the silent sorts or they were listening for any intruders on their meeting; perfectly normal behavior for turncoats of their nature. From Aran Linvail's description, these men, this Jaylos and Caehan should be easy targets, nervous, surprised, and off-guard. By all rights, the encounter should be in their favor from the moment they opened the door. Greywulf nodded; Minsc opened the door wide-

A loud hiss sounded as Minsc disappeared with a flash of motion, yanked inside the room. Greywulf darted forward in alarm, only to be yanked inside along with the ranger. Despite the danger they had just seen, the other four veritably charged in amidst the sounds of struggling and grunting. Two men, presumably Jaylos and Caehan, had Minsc and Greywulf respectively in headlocks... but their nature made everything clear. The sharp, deathly pallor of their skin, and the red glow to their eyes said it all.

"Very interesting..." one of the vampires hissed, his eyes locked on the four adventurers before him as he kept Greywulf from escaping his grasp. "I had been told Linvail was sending assassins, but I did not expect the Bhaalspawn."

"Another ambush." Aerie murmured, her hands already beginning the initial runes needed for her holy spells.

"Then... then there was no defection-?" Greywulf managed, still fighting the monster that held him.

"Oh, we are the men you were sent to meet... but we've already sworn our new allegiance. Linvail knew this..." Caehan spat, his strength enough to hold even Minsc at bay. "But from the looks on your faces, he didn't tell you that when he sent you on this foolish mission, did he?"

"You will let them go, demon." Keldorn commanded, eyes narrowed. "Do not make us destroy you."

"Hah! You worms would attempt our destruction regardless... but mistress Bodhi will reward us handsomely for your heads. Perhaps we should take you to her side; she would be enthralled by a Bhaalspawn vampire of her own." Jaylos and Caehan held their hostages away from the others, trying to circle towards the door.

"You're not leaving this place, not with Greywulf and Minsc." Jaheira growled. "Do you think you can bring them both to your lair without our intervention?"

"She's right, brother..." Caehan nodded, and then snarled as he abruptly released Minsc, pushing the ranger into the other five, bowling all of them over at once. With monstrous dexterity, Jaylos leapt over the pile of bodies, through the door and exit as he fled with his prize. "No!" Jaheira shouted, abruptly trying to climb back to her feet, knowing she would be too late- the sound of an unearthly howl echoed from down the hall, along with the all too familiar sound of blades piercing flesh. Caehan frowned, eyes narrowing as he backed up a bit from the recovering group... Greywulf appeared behind the others in the doorway, Hendak beside him with both swords drawn.

Caehan opened his mouth to say something, but was cut off by a barreling run from Minsc, slamming the vampire into the other side of the wall, a solid body blow that any normal man would be incapacitated by. The vampire felt it but shrugged it off with a snarl. It hissed and slammed a double fisted blow down on Minsc's back, enough to throw the ranger off. Caehan came off the wall fast, intending to strike again, but Jaheira had not been idle; her spear slammed into the vampire's gut, pinning it to the wall. The blow was not enough to kill the undead monster, but it still howled and thrashed in rage and pain; its claws just out of reach of Jaheira. The sound of priestly chants filled the room as Aerie began her magic, weakening the vampire with each passing moment. Its struggles slowed, raging at the hated words coming from the cleric.

"Fortunes seem to have changed," Keldorn said firmly, putting his sword up to the vampire's throat. "You will tell us everything we want to know, and we will make your end quick."

"Hsss… you will get nothing from me, mortal." the vampire growled. "I will sup on your life force…"

"You're in no position to do anything, creature." Greywulf said, slamming the side of his quarterstaff into the vampire's head.

His head snapped around, but he quickly turned it back with a crack, his red eyes fixing on Aerie still. His ravings and thrashings served a second purpose though; even as they attempted to interrogate the creature, the vampire's claw slowly reached behind him, grasping a piece of splintered wood from the hole the spear was sticking into.

"I'll offer you one last…" Keldorn's words were cut off; the vampire's hand flying out to send the jagged shard of wood towards Aerie's head. She saw the flying missile just in time to duck, but the break in her chants was just enough for the vampire to regain its strength. He yanked the spear from his chest and hurled it away, roaring with a leap at Jaheira, apparently weaponless without her spear. Just as the vampire's claws reached her neck, it stopped short, gagging in pain. The others looked down to see Jaheira's hand clutching her wooden stake, thrust into the vampire's heart. The creature mouthed a soundless cry, collapsing as it crumbled into dust before them; naught was left but the ashes of the vampire, her stake, and the creature's robes. There was silence for a few moments as the remnants of the vampire floated away through the air; a moment of breathless quiet permeated the room as they surveyed the damage.

"Are you both all right?" Jaheira asked with a frown, picking her spear up from the ground, dusting it off as she glanced over at Greywulf and Minsc.

"Thanks to Hendak; it was lucky you came by when you did." Greywulf said, giving a quick nod of thanks to the burly man.

"Fortunate indeed; is there something else you need my aid with? If need be, Bernard can run the Coronet for a few days should you need my sword." Hendak offered, sheathing his blades.

"At another time we might take you up on your offer, but the people we're involved with are the sort I'd just as soon keep you away from; the Shadow Thieves aren't the sort you trifle with. Sorry about the mess here."

"It is no trouble; I'll have it cleaned up as soon as possible." Hendak waved it off, heading out as the others waited; sure he was gone before speaking. "The whole thing was a setup; they were waiting for us."

"Just like at the Docks; someone in Aran's organization is leaking information. Twice now it's almost cost us our lives; it won't happen a third time." Greywulf frowned. "We're going to have a chat with the Shadowmaster about this whole business, and we're going to get some answers."

"What do you mean?" Aerie asked.

"Even disregarding what those vampires said about Linvail knowing this was an ambush of sorts, it's more than suspicious that we'd be sent out again, just so conveniently into a trap. Or at the Docks where there just happened to be an ambush. One of the two I consider bad luck. Two times in a row, something's going on. Aran wouldn't be where he is without being an expert at his business; he knows more than he's letting on, and I intend to find out just how much."

X X X X X X X

Aran's eyes narrowed as he read over the parchment brought to him by his scouts; the final few statements brought a slight tug to the corner of his mouth. He tossed it down, stroking his chin. The location of the enemy's guild base was one of the most coveted prizes any thief could have brought him, and now he had it here, in his possession. At the same time, he also had in his possession the means to destroy Bodhi and her cabal, the mercenaries led by Greywulf. Even if they should fail, their power would weaken, perhaps even cripple the enemy guild beyond recovery; more than enough for Arkanis and his elite assassins to finish the job.

The real question then... was it the right time? For all intents and purposes, he had in his pocket six highly trained, powerfully equipped adventurers, warriors and wizards far superior to many of his own men. As soon as Bodhi's guild was gone, he would be forced to release them from his service, and he had full intention in proving good on his word to bring them to both Imoen and Irenicus... the question was when. The opportune moment, as it were. Aran smirked, thinking of what could be accomplished with these men and women as his tools. His thoughts were interrupted by a knock at his door, the rogue approaching only at Aran's express permission. Bowing low, he was about to speak, but Aran shook his head. "Unnecessary; I know they're here. Bring them in."

The thief nodded, doing his best to hide the surprise of Aran already knowing what news he brought. Aran's tight smile did not waver... it was good to be the Shadowmaster. Few opposed him in secret and none outright... "Linvail!"

The sound of a less than friendly shout echoed from the hallway where the party of adventurers was traveling now. Aran shook his head in wry amusement. None, perhaps, except the Bhaalspawn. He allowed himself a hint of satisfaction in holding that particular secret, that bit of information that Greywulf kept so hidden from the world at large. Just some backup, in case Greywulf ever needed... discipline. He would undoubtedly find widespread knowledge of his heritage being spread amongst Amn very unappealing, but it was such a crude way to keep the six of them under control. Far better to do it the civilized way.

The door burst open, six fairly annoyed men and women stormed towards him, halting just on the other side of his desk. Aran looked at them with a hint of amusement, then stood to his feet. "I would extend my congratulations for your victory at the Coronet... but I somehow sense they would be ill-received. Something wrong?"

"Cut the gentleman crap, Aran." Greywulf growled out. "You knew there was no defection, just like you knew there was going to be an ambush at the Docks where Mook was killed. You've known all along there was a spy in your guild, haven't you?"

Linvail did not answer for a moment, though his gaze and temper did not waver. Finally, after an eternity of silence, he shrugged. "Of course I have. I'd be a fool not to."

"Then why haven't you gotten rid of him yet? Why would you continue to endanger yourself and us with this breach of security?" Jaheira demanded.

"I know almost everything about this spy... except his identity. We've kept track of these small lapses in security, figured out where our people are being ambushed and when. We can't yet trace it all back to one person, but we have quite a good idea about when we need extra security. Still, putting too much extra muscle at ambushes would alert Bodhi; she would discard her servant, infiltrate a new one, and we would have to start all over again."

"So you used us instead of your own men to take the hammer. If we win, it still looks close enough for Bodhi to keep using her current spy, and if we die, you save the trouble of helping us rescue Imoen. You lying-"

"I would suggest you calm your temper, Greywulf." Aran cut him off, the sound of cold steel in his voice. "Didn't I warn you about threatening me, here, in my own guild? Try and remain civil, and I shall do the same. As for your allegations of me using you, it's mutual, isn't it? You're using us to regain your lost friend and revenge on this Irenicus; we're using you to help us defeat our rivals. A pretty fair trade, I think."

"Risking our lives in ambushes that you never told us about isn't 'fair', Linvail. It's you trying to maximize your profits and cut your losses. Did Mook know she was being sent to her death at the Docks there?"

For the first time since they started, Aran's face twitched, just briefly before returning to its exterior calm. "I told you all before- she was a good agent. All my men in this organization know the risks in this guild war... and she was a casualty. Acceptable losses."

"I doubt she'd see it that way." Keldorn said. "Come, let this charade end. What do you really require of us before you'll fulfill your end of the bargain?"

Aran sat back in his plush chair, sighing as he removed a small bottle of brandy from a desk drawer and poured some into a small glass. "I see you're a reasonable man, Keldorn. All well and fine... I see no reason to continue our relationship in such hostile territory either. Though I rather thought my final task for you all would have been quite obvious."

He took a sip of his glass, then turned to face the waiting adventurers with a smile. "The complete and total destruction of Bodhi and her guild, of course."

"You must be mad... surely you don't expect us to assault her guild head on?!" Jaheira asked, her eyes flaring. "Who knows just how many vampires await us in her lair? And if you had knowledge of her location before, why would you not have struck yet?"

"We didn't have the resources... striking her lair directly would have been a bloodbath, one which we would not have had the manpower to pull off. With your aid, we can divert the majority of her forces from her base of operations, leaving Bodhi herself open to assault."

"Just how do you intend to pull this off?" Keldorn frowned. "Surely you cannot know how many vampires the cabal contains-"

"Around twenty-five, forty if you count the lesser vampires, not quite turned completely." Aran said with a shrug. "We've counted their numbers and have what we believe to be an accurate count, and thanks to a successful operation last night while you were dealing with the incident at the Coronet, we now have her base headquarters located."

"Where?" Aerie asked.

"Take a guess." Linvail smiled as he stood, unrolling a map of Athkatla over his desk, the Graveyard District shaded red. The streets and portions of Athkatla nearby were also visible, along with three particular spots circled and labeled. "You see, these three spots are key vampire strongholds, held near the Slums. They give them forward positions to attack from and are quite defensible. It's taken us a while, but we found back ways into each. A few hours before you assault the guild, I'll send a group of assassins to each location with orders to take the positions. There will be enough thieves at each location that if Bodhi wants to keep her forward assault positions, she'll have to commit more reinforcements to put up any real fight. With any luck, we'll be able to not only draw nearly half of the vampire force away from their guild, but take at least two of the three areas."

"So even if we get slaughtered, you'll still have your attack points, right?" Greywulf said with a shake of the head. "Sounds like you've got all your bases covered. When do we strike?"

"Tomorrow morning. My thieves will attack in force just before the dawn breaks; the vampires will be indoors, shunning the light. They won't expect such an aggressive strike, and we'll have a better chance. Approximately one hour after the attack commences, you will take this path lined out here into the crypts of the Graveyards, find Bodhi and end this. Expect some resistance, but nothing you shouldn't be able to handle."

The six adventurers glanced back and forth between each other; despite the mistrust, there was no visible flaw or trickery. After ensuring that everyone was alright with the proposal, Greywulf nodded, shaking Aran's offered hand. "We'll be ready; we have some Holy Water waiting for us at one of the Temples; we'll retrieve it and return here in time for the attack. Just make sure you come through on your part; if we turn a corner to find the entire guild facing us, I'll make sure we survive if for nothing else than to pay you back."

"Your path should be clear for the most part. Just remember that Bodhi is of prime importance." Aran stated. "Kill her and the guild should collapse."

"We'll get it done; I wouldn't worry too much." Yoshimo shot a grin at Aran before they left the room.

"I would."

Aran's voice had taken a serious tone, odd enough to turn all the adventurers back to the Shadowmaster, Linvail sitting there with both hands clasped on his desk, his eyes narrowed. "Do not underestimate Bodhi; believe me when I say she will prove more than a match for you all."

"She's just one vampire-"

"If you think that then you're doomed from the start." Aran cut Yoshimo off with a growl. "She's... different. Powerful, even for her kind. This isn't the first time we've taken a shot at her... we once had her cornered with ten Shadow Thieves facing her. Only two made it back alive while the rest were new recruits to her army of undead. I was one of those who survived."

"You fought Bodhi?" Aerie asked in surprise.

"It's not important now... just remember, everything hinges on her demise. Kill her army and she'll build a new one. Destroy her lair and she'll move someplace safer. Destroy her physical form and she'll rejuvenate in her coffin. You must destroy her completely; body and soul, if she had one. You cannot fail in this... for both your sake, and ours."

X X X X X X X

The rest of the night had been spent acquiring the necessary supplies to prepare for the battle ahead, picking up the Holy Water they had ordered, then sparring with Aran's men, comparing and trading strategies for not only the battle ahead, but for fighting the ranks of the Nosferatu themselves. Strategies and plans for their assault were compared, changed, pored over, and then changed again, ensuring perfection for the actual time of attack, leaving nothing to chance for the four-pronged assault they plotted come the morn. The last preparations had been made; the only thing left to do was wait. The pressure was palpable; for all their previous experience and combat, even they were not immune to fear and doubt.

Each had taken some rest in their own way, though Minsc was the only one who actually slept. Keldorn had spent the past hour in prayer, the thieves graciously providing him a room where he could meditate undisturbed. Aerie had done the same, meditating as she devoted herself once more to her god and the power she would need to call upon to survive the next battle she faced. Greywulf had thought long and hard about Aran's words; he had never seen the Shadowmaster in combat, but surely he had to be of some great skill to be where he was? And yet he was swept away from Bodhi just the same. He had said she was different; no ordinary vampire. It didn't matter though, different or not, she was still between him and Imoen. In Greywulf's mind, that gave her a fighting chance at the very best.

His thoughts lingered on Imoen for another few moments... _We're almost there, Im. Just a while longer... we're coming for you. We'll find you if we have to tear Bodhi's guild apart without the Shadow Thieves. I won't lose you a second time-_

"You look pensive. Preparing for the battle to come?'

The sound of her voice pulled Greywulf back to reality; he turned his head to see that Jaheira had come to join him, standing at a window overlooking the entire Slums and part of the Graveyard district from that side of the guildhall. He shrugged lightly in response to her query. "I... just thinking about Imoen, that's all."

"We are close now; do not despair." she said. "It is... it is commendable, to see that in all of this, you yet retain your focus on the task at hand, on the true point to all this battle. Many would not; Imoen was lucky to have you as her friend in growing up."

"No more than I was to have her with me... in so many ways we complemented each other." Greywulf considered. "I don't think either of us... I didn't at least; neither of us knew how we would affect each other. How her presence shaped my life in so many ways."

"And I am glad for it. You have grown to be a fine young man... one whose company I would not trade for the world. You've earned my trust and respect; I gladly follow you into battle once more."

His heart swelled with pride and appreciation for her words, such comments were rare coming from Jaheira, and the feelings in his heart were nothing but fueled by them. Was she merely trying to give him confidence for what was to come? Was there... did she see something else there as well? He hadn't even considered that possibility... but he now desperately needed to know. Something was pushing him, forcing his hand. She had turned away and was once more staring out the window as the first rays of dawn broke the city horizon. "Peaceful at this hour, even for a city out of balance such as this. The calm will be broken by battle soon enough... it is well to enjoy it now."

The sound of her words did nothing but make his heart pound a little faster, glancing at the woman he had come to call one of his closest friends over the years he had known her. In his mind, he was screaming at himself to shunt the thoughts he was having away, to focus on the task at hand; do what Keldorn had suggested in their training and focus on the opponent, let it be the only thing in your world. But try as he might, he could not; something had to be said. "Jaheira? I... I would speak with you for a moment, if you did not mind."

"Of course not." she said with a frown. "What is it?"

"I… this… the battle we're about to face won't be easy. These creatures make the forces of Sarevok pale in comparison; there's a good chance we won't make it out."

"The chance we take in any battle. We do what needs to be done, despite our fears. Are you losing courage, Greywulf?" she asked, her tone taking on the role of teacher he knew so well.

"No, not courage. I… I just wish to let you know how much I have come to respect you… and care for you." he fumbled, trying to find the words to express his feelings.

"You know we are… friends," Jaheira said, the sound of her voice slightly uncomfortable. "I care for you as well…"

Greywulf did not respond, he merely continued looking into her eyes; one of his hands slowly, almost involuntarily drifted out to touch and take hold of her hand… it was as though the contact jolted Jaheira awake. She abruptly stiffened, her face growing pale as she drew her hand back roughly. Her voice was hard, stone grinding on stone as she spoke, "Greywulf… what is it you think you are doing?"

She slowly turned, her back to him as she folded her arms. He began again, "Jaheira… I don't-"

She cut him off, raising one hand as she spoke, though unwilling to look at him for the moment. "Greywulf, I am not blind. Do not treat me as a fool… I can see the way you begin to look at me. I know what you're… what you think you're feeling, and you need to stop. Consider the foolishness of those thoughts, the impossibility."

"Jaheira, I didn't ask to feel this way…" Greywulf started, trying to explain himself. "I never thought I would-"

"Then why would you even try and act on them?" she said incredulously, her voice still low; a hushed whisper almost. "Can you imagine where following this path would lead? Don't you realize where we are; who we are? Who I... who I have been? Greywulf… do not destroy our relationship with such madness. Do not make me push you away further; I have no desire to harm you, but I will if you leave me no choice. Please, let us be the friends we have been... the man who helped me deal with Khalid's death, the one I trust."

She still did not move, awaiting his reply as the two stood motionless, silence seeming to permeate the air about them despite the background noise. Finally, the young man's voice rang out, firm yet gentler than she perhaps wanted to hear, "You can trust me, Jaheira. If nothing else, you can trust me."

"Thank you." she said quickly, finally turning to look at him again. "All I would ask is that you know I value our friendship. More than anything. Right now, that is what I need from you. You are my closest friend; perhaps I would not have allowed us to become this close had other developments not taken place. Perhaps later, we should discuss this more, but please speak no more of this for now. Things will be said without thinking properly…"

"I understand." Greywulf said as she trailed off in uncertainty. "We'd better get back to the others. Aran's forces will attack soon; we'd best be ready to move."

"Yes, we should." Jaheira said, clearing her throat and the tension in the air; she turned away and left the room, her voice fading as she went. "The others will be wondering where we are."

Greywulf watched her back as she returned to the others, never turning around once. So... that was it. Over before it began. He hadn't even gotten a chance to say what he was feeling, to explain to her why he felt this way, why he wanted- it didn't matter now. He should have seen it coming, really; foolish of him to imagine there could ever have been anything between the two of them. She had been right, as usual. He allowed himself a shake of the head, and then followed in her wake, everything he had needed or wanted to say shot to pieces before him. Once more he was reminded of just how little he had in the world... and how much he treasured what he did have. Like friendship with five of the most loyal, devoted men and women he had ever known.

He entered the room, looking on at those five. By all rights, it should have been enough. He was a Bhaalspawn; he should have been out there, murdering and killing with the likes of Sarevok and Irenicus. He should have been a weapon of evil, a plague on the face of Faerun... but he wasn't. Somehow the gods had seen fit to bless him and make him different; a different breed of god-child. That should have been enough to make him content with the friendship and the blessings he had been given... but it wasn't. No matter how much he tried to deny it, how much he tried to rationalize it... there was a part of him that wanted more. That wanted something else; that wanted a relationship of deeper meaning... love, if it could be called that. It was that same feeling, that longing he had gotten when Aerie had begun to draw near to his heart, that same desire. But this was different... it was stronger. There was something there that hadn't been present with Aerie; at this very moment, being completely honest with himself, all he wanted was to see if it was possible to have that relationship with a fiery, brown haired, green eyed, sarcastically inclined druid who... who had effectively ended any chance of that deeper relationship before it began.

He shook his head, the hint of a bitter smile on his face as he pushed the feelings he had so gently and reluctantly unearthed back down into the grave... back where they belonged in the first place. Of course she had been right. He was a fool for thinking otherwise... an absolute fool. He snuck one peek at Jaheira, the woman leaning in the corner, her arms folded as her gaze seemed to travel everywhere through the room except for him. She had mentioned that they might speak of their altercation later, discuss what had been said. They'd discuss it all right. He'd make sure she knew he realized his mistake, and that there was nothing for her to fear from him; he wouldn't jeopardize their friendship for anything. He had just inhaled, settling on that course in his heart and mind...when for a slight moment, whether by chance or fate, her eyes passed by his, meeting his glance and holding it. It wasn't shame, embarrassment, or anger in those green orbs that pierced his gaze... it was compassion. Compassion and maybe just the slightest hint of curiosity... or was it longing? At what might be... might have been- it passed in a split second; she was gone once more, barely even acknowledging his presence. Still, that one moment was all it took for him to realize... that maybe it was worth it; worth it to be a fool.

He shook his head in resigned amusement. So much for resolve and refusing to jeopardize their friendship... the sound of a door opening caught everyone's gaze as Aran Linvail strode in, stopping by a large window overlooking the city. "So it begins."

They looked out the window with anticipation, to see a few flashes of light appearing in the general direction of the places they were supposed to hit. "Our mages are arriving first to clear out any preliminary defenses." Aran said confidently. Their licenses should keep any Cowled Wizards from interfering."

Greywulf closed his eyes momentarily, stretching out magically to see what was taking place. He could only pick up a few traces here and there, sensing surprise on the enemy's part, aggression, the battle met…

"They've engaged. All three areas are locked in combat." Greywulf said to Aran.

"Good. Their reinforcements will be arriving within the hour. Now's the time. Prepare to leave."

X X X X X X X

Bodhi's eyes raged as she watched the Shadow Thieves' assassins punch through her primary defenses and the initial guards through the portal she had conjured. "Should we send all available vampires?" Valen asked, looking through the portal beside her mistress.

"Yes… no." Bodhi said, her outward rage turning to cold calculation. "This is bold on Linvail's part. He is not a hasty man, and I would not expect him to take such large steps to secure three points he might not be able to hold."

"What shall I do then?" Valen asked.

"Send six vampires to each location. They should be adequate to repel their forces."

"Six?" Valen could not mask her surprise, "That would leave so many here, mistress. We could easily send more-"

She was cut off by Bodhi who turned to her with a look of anger, cold fury in her expression. "You remember what happened to you the last time you failed me, Valen; the last time you thought enough of yourself to disobey my commands. Surely you are not so foolish as to make the same mistake again?"

"No…no, my mistress." Valen shook her head, bowing low as Bodhi smirked, her eyes tracing the scar that lined Valen's face from their last 'disciplinary session'. I shall do as you command."

"Good. Ensure our forces are prepared to move if need be; Linvail has something planned. We must be prepared for the second step of his plan, whatever that may be."

As Valen left, Bodhi turned back to the portal and watched, her eyes narrowing. Her spy had not informed her of this attack; she would have to speak with him again when next possible; perhaps a reassuring of his loyalty? No... he belonged to her, there was no way he could disobey her commands. Not when she owned him so thoroughly. A simple case of poor timing, that's all, the wrong place at the wrong time for her man inside. To tell the truth, she did not really think Linvail had the cunning to outsmart her; still, it was an intriguing play on his part. As she watched the developments unfold, she thought briefly of Greywulf and his companions. She briefly considered their involvement in the whole thing, and then dismissed it. Irenicus had promised he would be no trouble. And if he was, she was prepared to deal with not only him, but the Shadow Thieves' hunt as well.

X X X X X X X

They hurried through the streets as quickly as possible, avoiding darkness at all costs, staying true to the quickest path through the city. As they ran, the sounds of battle and explosions echoed through the streets as they passed near the combat sites between Bodhi and Aran's respective guilds. They cut through an underground passage Yoshimo said would lead to the other side of the Graveyard district, allowing them to come in from behind. As they traveled, voices began echoing down the corridor; Greywulf looked around frantically, and then cast a quick spell, cloaking all of them completely for a few seconds.

As they vanished, two vampires traveled down the corridor, snarling to each other. They passed by the location where the adventurers were hiding, neither noting anything of difference- one of them stopped and sniffed, looking around. The invisible party readied the grips they had on their weapons, awaiting the slightest hostile motion... the vampire snarled again and continued one with his comrade, the two quickly disappearing down a turn in the hall. The party shimmered into existence again as Greywulf dropped the spell, the group continuing down through the winding path and gloomy maze until they came out of the ground, nearly inside the Graveyard. Sneaking along as best they could, Yoshimo led them around a corner, looked around, then motioned.

They followed him over to the large mausoleum in the middle of the area. The door looked as though it had not been opened for many years and since Greywulf was not willing to cast an opening spell outdoors, they all put their shoulders to it and heaved. To their surprise, the door opened relatively easily, demonstrating that despite its appearance, the door was still much in use. Instead of corpses inside, there was a staircase heading straight down, lit by naught more than a few torches up and down the stairs. Greywulf looked at the others, and then pulled the potion he had made from his robe and drank it. The others followed suit, and with that they moved down quickly, Greywulf taking lead with magical light guiding the way, Keldorn at rear, watching their backs. As they finally reached the end of the flight, coming to a stone chamber, they looked around but found nobody there. The floor was littered with skeletons though, and the path to the door was covered in blood.

Yoshimo motioned for the others to follow close behind, as he slowly made a path through the darkness, looking for any sort of traps. At one point, he motioned for all to stop, as he bent down obviously messing with something he had found. After a few seconds of deathly silence, he stood up and exhaled, the trap disarmed. He grinned and motioned for them to continue, but as he stepped down, the block under his foot depressed with a loud grinding noise. He froze and looked around, as the entire room began rumbling. As bits and pieces of rock began falling to the ground, the ceiling cracking, they rushed through the room, attempting to make it to the exit in time. Just as the last man, Keldorn, slipped in the door, the room behind them collapsed entirely, leaving naught but a staircase heading up.

All breathed a sigh of relief, as they continued on their path, buoyed by their escape. They hurried down the paths in the crypts, taking door after door down in their hurry. As they entered one room, they were met by three vampires, obviously shocked to see them. Without words, they all attempted to drain their life magically, but Greywulf's potions had done their work. Minsc and Keldorn were first into battle, their weapons cutting deep into their undead opponents. One fell quickly, but the other counterattacked and drove Minsc away from the others. As Aerie and Jaheira hurried to aid the ranger before he was overwhelmed by the vampire's fury, Greywulf and Yoshimo joined Keldorn and dispatched the second of the vampires. The others had saved Minsc and defeated the third creature without injury, whereupon they continued. They came across two feeding pools of blood, bubbling over and nourishing the vampires. One vial of holy water went into each as they kept moving, surprise still on their side, and they intended to make the most of it.

X X X X X X X

Bodhi snarled again, watching as another of her vampires was cut down, the spirit retreating back to the coffin in their guild. The Shadow Thieves seemed to be not only committed to this assault, not backing down despite the deaths of many of their number. They had never spent this many lives in battle before; they showed a motivation to fight beyond anything she had seen before. The suspicion inside her welled up as she racked her brain for something, anything to give her insight into why Linvail was fighting so hard against her- "Mistress! We are under attack!"

Bodhi whirled to her lieutenant, rushing into the room. "What?!"

"The outer trap has sprung, collapsing the stair chamber. I sent some of our brethren to investigate, but they have not returned."

"Find out who is or was here, and deal with the situation!" Bodhi commanded.

As Valen left hurriedly, Bodhi sneered, the final piece falling into place. "So, you would divert my attention with three strikes while you send assassins in directly. Did you learn nothing from our battle, Linvail? You will fail. You-"

She was cut off as she felt a ripple of weakness travel through her, as though she had lost something she had depended on to walk, or even live. She angrily felt that the feeding pools were no longer pure and strengthening, but tainted and poison now. She stretched out with her vampire senses, until she smelled blood, but not that of the feeding pools. She concentrated harder and harder until…

"Bhaal blood." she whispered, for the first time feeling something besides confidence. It was not Aran's pathetic cronies that had been sent, but the Bhaalspawn and his companions. She whirled around, fleeing through the crypt passages, heading for the room she had prepared for this day. Valen met her there and was sent with their remaining vampires to delay Greywulf, to stop him if possible. She allowed herself a smile as she sent her lieutenant, knowing that any victory they achieved was temporary; whether Valen lived or died, whether Greywulf was defeated or destroyed what she had built here, it hardly mattered. With the prize she had obtained from Imoen, she was not about to be stopped.

X X X X X X X

Minsc grunted with satisfaction as he slammed a stake down into the vampire's heart, destroying the creature lying before him in its coffin. Room after room had been filled with the servants of the undead, skeletons and ghouls, even a mummy or two. Vampires had been present, falling to their determined might. Nearly each one had attempted their dark energy drains, but the potions were not spent yet; that element of surprise was proving to be enough to keep favor on their side. Still, defenses were strengthening.

It was obvious Bodhi knew they were there; vampires had made them fight for each room they traveled through, though their ranks were nowhere near as great as they would have been, thanks to Aran's plan. Even as another skeleton warrior fell to Keldorn's blade and Aerie's magic, Greywulf waved them on to the next room, The chamber was one they had seen far too many of; the bloodied implements and coppery stench was thick in the air as they made their way through past the torture implements and racks. A voice leapt from the shadows, one that had haunted them for some time since they had first heard it. "Dear sweet Greywulf… how I wish you could have seen the light, as it were. I truly didn't want it to end this way."

Valen strode out, a host of other vampires flanking her. "We could have had so much together, you and I. I would have enjoyed showing you the different pleasures of this particular chamber."

"Sorry... I'm not into that kind of thing." Greywulf shot back as he spat a word of magic, igniting a Contingency. His Chain Lightning surged along the ground, throwing all but Valen and two other vampires of their feet. This delay was more than enough time for them to meet in combat well organized. Though outnumbered, Aerie's chanting and undead turning powers were effective, making their attacks slow and uncoordinated. One of the vampires fell prey to a blow by Jaheira's spear end, smashing into the undead creature's face. Another blocked a blow by Keldorn's sword, only to be hewed by Minsc's axes from both sides. The pieces that were cut away flew out with her life force as that vampire fell.

One vampire screeched and attacked Aerie, hoping to end their advantage, but as he got closer, a flash went out splitting Aerie's form into several different copies, all around the room. The vampire's momentary confusion was his undoing as Greywulf's fire magics swirled around him and consumed his body. As the vampires around the room slowly were pushed back by the combined might of magic and steel, Valen engaged Greywulf in close quarters combat, refusing to give Greywulf time or room to use his magic.

"You should have joined us when you had the chance." she hissed, leaping at Greywulf again, held off only by his quarterstaff's quick block. Her claws came down and ripped into his side even with his defensive effort, but he shunted away the pain and took the opportunity to bring his weapon full bore into her side, cracking loudly as the staff impacted, knocking her into another room close by.

He followed her in, hoping to finish the vampire off. She came up faster than he expected, the sorcerer having to break off his spellcraft before he could finish, only realizing after that their distance from the others and Aerie's magics was giving her strength back. He tried to remember everything Keldorn had taught him; one end of the staff rammed straight into her stomach, knocking her wind out. As she doubled over, her legs collapsed under her, letting her dodge his next attack and sweep his legs out as well. Before he could regain his footing, she was on top of him, her hands pinning his, her legs straddling his chest, teeth bared. Valen looked around once, saw that all his companions were still fighting to defend themselves, then laughed as she looked down at her struggling prey. "My mistress would have liked to drain you herself, but under the circumstance, I'd rather go another round in the torture chamber than lose this opportunity."

She bent down and bit into his neck, blood flowing fresh from the wound into the vampire's mouth. Greywulf felt himself losing his strength rapidly as she consumed more and more of his life, growing stronger with each second as the walls grew dizzy and out of focus, no longer able to put up any resistance to her as she fed on him. She stopped briefly, noticing his efforts diminishing, then looked him square in the eyes, blood slathered all over her mouth. She grabbed him by the collar and pulled him close, whispering, "I never knew how sweet the blood of a god tasted."

Greywulf's head barely comprehended what she was saying, but he knew he could not last much longer. As his hand fell back down to the cold floor, he felt something roll out of his belt, and rest against his hand. As he clutched it, he immediately knew what it was; a vial of holy water. But he had not the strength to use it, not in this position. As he lay there, trying desperately to fight, his blurred vision saw a figure approach from behind, a katana ready to fall on the vampire.

Valen had not been caught unawares though; she whirled around to catch the attack from Yoshimo. She slammed the weapon backward, catching the bounty hunter in the side and throwing him back into the room where the fray still brewed. However, the brief respite had given Greywulf enough time to think and act. His hand reached over to his quarterstaff, just out of range. With a murmur of magic, the weapon slid over just slightly, enough for him to take hold. Just as she turned back to him to finish him off, he smashed the weapon forward with both hands against her chin. She cried out in pain, rolling over with him until he was on top of her. Hoping to finish the job before he passed out, he looked into her angry face, then smashed the vial of holy water he held into her mouth. As the glass and blessed fluid spilled into her open jaws, a sizzling noise echoed through the room alongside her screams, the water burning the vampire's undead flesh like acid. She threw him off in panic, coughing and choking as clutched her throat, gagging with the pain. She staggered about the room for a second, Greywulf trying desperately to make the final effort necessary to save himself from her vengeance- he pulled his stake and stumbled towards her, waiting until she turned to look at him, unaware of the danger.

The stake was thrust forward with all of his fading strength, striking Valen right through her heart. Her screams of pain faded as her body turned to dust, fading away as her spirit departed into as well. Greywulf collapsed on the floor, unable to move, only hoping for his friends' aid as his blood began to pool on the floor, no creature to drink it. Greywulf could barely hear footsteps thud towards him as he attempted to remain conscious, then heard murmurings of divine and mystic origin. He felt warmth reenter his neck and head, his wounds beginning to knit as the healers Jaheira and Aerie did their work. His vision went back into focus to see the two women leaning over him, Jaheira breathing in rasps while a large gash ran down Aerie's cheek and neck, far too close to her throat for comfort.

"Can you continue?" Keldorn asked, helping the mage to his feet. "We must find and deal with Bodhi before she escapes."

"Don't know… how much help I'll be… in this condition." Greywulf muttered, still dizzy. "But I'll try. Have to… have to rescue Imoen."

"How sweet... such loyalty. You seek me? Let me ease your work... and your passing!"

The surprised party barely had time to turn towards the direction from which the voice had come before out from the shadows came a lithe figure, all fangs and darkness, a vicious leap with claws bared coming straight for them...


	45. Part 2: The Raven, Fox, and Sparrow

_Author's Note: Short, I know, but spring break is over and it's back to the grindstone. Hope this works for everyone..._

The dark presence before them was a blur, her speed unparalleled as she leapt towards them, their own movements seemingly mired in time as one of her booted feet lunged out. Keldorn's head snapped back, the product of a vicious kick to the older paladin's chin. He stumbled a few steps backwards, the look in his eyes suggesting bewilderment and a daze that bordered on unconsciousness. Bodhi landed in the midst of the group, crouched low as she surveyed the six party members. "Such curious creatures you all are... come, let us see how deserving you are of your Imoen's rescue."

Five of the six moved in on her, but another roundhouse kick swept almost all of them away, Jaheira barely managing to block in time with her spear shaft. Bodhi smiled darkly, hissing at the druid. "Good."

She leapt away from Jaheira's incoming attack, heading straight towards Aerie with a fist intended to smash the elf's skull. Aerie's eyes widened as she rolled away at the last second, hurriedly spitting out a few incantations as she moved. A blur of magic missiles came to life and exploded against the vampire's flesh; she shrugged them off, chuckling mercilessly. "Better."

A motion out of the corner of her eye caught Bodhi's attention; Minsc was racing in from behind, his sword ready to impale her without pity- she spun around and ducked down and underneath the sword, coming up with a slash to the chest that would have torn Minsc's heart out if not for his armor. As it was, Minsc flew backwards across the room, trying to pull himself back up with a set of jagged tears in the chain mail. "Pathetic." she sneered. "And you were doing so well, too."

The sound of priestly chants filled the room as Aerie began her attempts at Turning Undead, the standing party already moving to block for the elf, hoping her magic would slow the onslaught- but too late. Bodhi was a blur, darting past Yoshimo with one fist flying out, catching the thief before he had even known what happened. Bodhi's left fist jabbed straight out, catching Aerie in the stomach and then the throat. Aerie's voice abruptly stopped, the elf's eyes widening as she gagged on her words, doubling over as Bodhi's claws ripped into her shoulder. Aerie fell to the ground, still clutching her stomach and throat, completely incapacitated.

Keldorn shook his head in an attempt to wake himself back up, using the wall beside him to push his body back to its feet and into the fray. His vision cleared enough to see Bodhi dropping back a bit, skittering back and forth across the room, out of range of Jaheira's weapon and making herself just enough of a nuisance to keep Greywulf from spellcasting. "You are turning into quite the disappointment... where is that fire you promised me so long ago, hmm? Your friends seemed so sure of your ability... but considering how quickly you replace those friends who have fallen because of your incompetence, perhaps-"

"You dare?! I will have your heart on a pike if you continue such lies-" Jaheira shouted as she slashed down with the tip of her spear, catching Bodhi in the shoulder... but it proved a mistake a moment later, as Bodhi's other hand grabbed the spear and yanked it towards her, pulling Jaheira directly into a rock solid punch; Jaheira's hands slipped from her spear as she collapsed to the floor, a bruise already forming on the side of her face.

Bodhi tsked condescendingly as she eyed Greywulf, the mage stumbling back as he tried to put some distance between him and the vampire, anything to give him time to summon magics of some measure of power. "This all could have been avoided if you hadn't been so set in your path. Not that you even know what that path is... I wager I know far more about your destiny than you ever will."

"You know nothing about me, Bodhi..." Greywulf grunted, barely dodging another claw slash. His hands came up with a spell rune finally completed and cast; Bodhi hissed as the rune impacted against her, throwing her back as her chest smoked from where it had been hit.

"Think what you will, but I know about many things; about you, your employers and what they intend. Can you say as much? Do you truly know these people cloaked in shadow?" Bodhi spat.

Bodhi didn't wait for an answer; she made a vertical leap, avoiding a mighty swing Keldorn made from behind. She came back down upon him, her legs wrapped around his waist and arms holding him in a rapidly constricting chokehold. He stumbled back and forth for a few moments before collapsing as well, the Hallowed Redeemer clattering to the floor alongside him. A desperate arrow came flying past Bodhi, the vampire laughing as she darted through the room, always ahead of Yoshimo's attempts at hitting her. Even as she ran, making half strikes at all three of the party members still on their feet, she called out, "Tell me, have the Shadow Thieves done more than promise? Have they delivered anything, or have they simply made certain you are always within reach? I imagine you are confused as to what their goals are. Have they said why they sought your service? Why they offered to help you?"

"If you think I actually trust the Shadow Thieves, then you're as crazy as you are ugly." Greywulf retorted, a Prismatic spray catching the far heel of Bodhi as she ran, throwing her off balance and tumbling into a stone wall. She came up with a growl, watching as Yoshimo launched an arrow, straight towards her forehead; her hand was a blur, snapping the arrow in two as both sides flew past her. Yoshimo's eyes widened as Bodhi smirked; she launched from her crouched position towards Yoshimo long before he could think of switching from his bow to his katanas. The bow flew across the room as Bodhi bit down into the thief's neck, Yoshimo's struggles ending within seconds. He fell to the ground as Bodhi wiped the blood from her mouth, glancing at the half-dead bounty hunter. "Don't worry, he'll live... for now. It wouldn't do to kill any of these fools yet, not until we've finished our little chat, hmm?"

"I'd rather you just shut up and fight!" Greywulf shouted, the wrath inside at her taunts, the ease in which she was defeating them all building his rage inside.

"Well... someone's getting testy." Bodhi purred, ducking under a swing from his quarterstaff and away from another swing by Minsc. "Are you this forceful with the Shadow Thieves? Perhaps if you were, you would know their true intentions... that their interest in you is more than simply mercenary. What if they knew full well who you are… and what you are? I have known for some time, of course... Irenicus told me. He might have learned more, awakened your power, but the Thieves interrupted him."

"You are in league with Dynaheir's murderer?! Minsc will see your evil die today!" Minsc screamed a challenge, his berserker wrath taking over as he charged Bodhi again. The vampire did not even bother to dodge this time; she crouched low and swept out Minsc's feet with a kick, the ranger going tumbling. A quick turn and she was on top of Minsc, her fist slamming into the back of Minsc's neck twice. She stepped off him, kicking him over onto his back. The ranger groaned once more, and then lay still.

She laughed as she looked back up at Greywulf, wavering on his feet as he attempted one more spell. In less than a second Bodhi was across the room, holding Greywulf by the neck, his quarterstaff flung across the room. His struggles were faint, no problem at all for her undead strength. She bared her fangs once, pulling him close. "I could kill you right now with the slightest squeeze of my fist." she whispered.

"Then... do it. What... what are you waiting for?" he choked out, hanging by her fist.

Bodhi wavered for a moment... then she slammed him down, dust flying from where she had planted his body. The world spun around him as she stood over him, leaning down beside his prone body. "I can't kill you yet... you haven't been reunited with Imoen. She's changed so much since you saw her last..."

"Im... Imoen-" Greywulf coughed, Bodhi laughing nastily as he raised one hand feebly.

"That's right. Fight on; continue to seek your lost companion. It will make your end so much more satisfying when you see what has been done to your precious little girl."

"Bodhi... I'll- swear I'll kill you." he murmured, Bodhi pausing for a moment as she gazed down at him.

"Seems you haven't learned humility yet, god-child; I think a lesson is in order before I leave. One or two deaths of your companions should prove quite the demonstration; the only question being which of these weaklings to devour...

The sound of a blade unsheathing turned Bodhi's head, her eyes narrowing as a cloaked and hooded man stepped out of the shadows, twin long swords bared. "You won't touch any of them, Bodhi... it ends right here."

She studied him for a moment, before nodding in recognition. "Arkanis Gath... Aran's most beloved pet assassin. Tell me, how is the old man faring these days? Is he still nursing the wounds I gave him the last time we met? If he couldn't kill me himself, what chance do you think you have?"

"I'm not Aran Linvail... I'm better." Arkanis smirked, stepping forward with a quick swing, Bodhi easily dodging aside. "And I'm not exhausted from hours of fighting like these fool adventurers. I'm more than able to end your existence, Bodhi."

A blur of swings and slashes countered with dodges and quick claw parries sung through the air before Bodhi vaulted onto a small ledge nestled near the ceiling of the west wall. "An interesting proposition, but I have better things to do than waste time with you... any of you." she growled. "Another time, assassin."

Bodhi's form seemed to dissipate into a vaporous mist, floating through a set of cracks and holes in the wall beside her, leaving Arkanis staring at nothing, his hands tightening on the swords he carried. The sound of other feet hitting the stone hard hit his ears as a group of Shadow Thieves arrived alongside him, looking to him for orders.

"Bodhi's gone, lads... gone without a trace." he glanced down at the bodies of the six fallen adventurers. "Get these men and women back to our base, and have 'em patched up. I'll let Aran know what's taken place."

The assassins hurried to carry our Arkanis' orders, quickly moving out through the crypts, ensuring the area was secure. Arkanis glanced back up at where Bodhi had disappeared, her words echoing in his ears once again... he slammed one fist into the stone wall with a scream of frustration and rage. So close... "Dammit!!!"

X X X X X X X

Aran Linvail stood outside the room where his clerics worked their magics, mending and patching those hurt in the raids on the vampire strongholds during that bloody day's events. Most prominently among the wounded were the six adventurers who had fought Bodhi herself. From the looks of them when they had been brought in as well as Arkanis' report, it sounded as though Bodhi had gotten the better of them. Worse still was that she had escaped; true, her guild base was destroyed, and any remaining forces were in shambles and disarray... but it wasn't enough. Bodhi was still alive, and that was enough to place them all in mortal danger.

The door opened, two of the Shadow Thief clerics exiting. Aran nodded to them, passing into the room where the wounded lay. Six beds had been arranged off to the side, each one filled. Their bodies were broken and bruised, but better from when they had been brought in. His eyes narrowed as he looked them up and down... it had been their best chance so far, and all for naught. They had their forward posts, but what did that matter? Bodhi would no longer be in the Graveyards, and they would have to renew their search for her base all over again. So many of his men dead, all in another clash of this pointless guild war-

The sound of the door opening behind him caught his attention; Aran turned, nodded at the presence behind the door, gesturing for him to come in. Renal Bloodscalp strode in, taking his place at Aran's side. "Things didn't go quite as planned, I presume."

"That might be something of an understatement." Aran raised one eyebrow. "So much for the Bhaalspawn's vaunted prowess in combat; have the teams I sent finished their sweep of the tombs?"

"As you commanded." Renal nodded. "Every inch of the tombs underneath the Graveyard District has been checked and scoured; we found a few coffin rooms that had been hidden away, all vampires were summarily staked of course, but nothing of Bodhi."

"Then it's not enough." Aran growled. "Were these six my own men I'd have them executed for their failure."

"Then why are you going to such lengths to keep them alive and healthy? Surely you aren't growing sentimental, hmm?"

Apparently Aran didn't find Renal's comment quite as humorous as Bloodscalp might have hoped; a glance from the Shadowmaster sent Renal to a more somber tone again. "Pardon my tone then, but I do wonder what further purpose you have for these mercenaries."

Aran didn't answer immediately, but took a few steps over to the side of the bed where Aerie rested, eyes closed as her chest rose up and down with her breathing. He studied her for a brief moment before turning back to Renal. "Irenicus. Irenicus, and him alone."

"You know as well as I that Irenicus and Bodhi are connected... somehow." Aran muttered. "Far too many men taken for the cabal to feed upon... something deeper, darker is at work here."

"And since these six are the only living things to have emerged from Irenicus' dungeon, you seek to use them to find kill him." Renal finished. "I was under the impression Irenicus was locked up at Spellhold... has this changed?"

"I do not inform you of every parcel of information that comes my way, Renal... do not forget the chain of power here." Linvail smirked. "No... my sources tell me that the Cowled Wizards have not had contact with the island or the asylum for some time now... and that every Cowled Wizard who has gone to the island since Irenicus' imprisonment has never returned. It would not be unreasonable to assume he has made himself a new home there."

"Do you think Bodhi will go there too?" Renal raised one eyebrow as Aran strode away from Aerie's bed, heading towards the door.

"Perhaps... it would make our job easier, regardless." Aran motioned for Renal to follow him. "These mercenaries don't need to know, however... let them think Irenicus is still under lock and key. With any luck, both Greywulf and Irenicus will meet their end in the chambers of Spellhold. The Bhaalspawn is far too much of a loose power to be set free in Athkatla."

"When are they leaving?"

"In two days. Docks platform Thirty-three. I'll have Sime travel with them; she'll keep them under close watch-"

Their voices faded away as the two left the room, leaving the six unconscious adventurers alone once more, still and lifeless as seconds passed by...

"Is he gone?"

"He's gone." Greywulf's low voice met Aerie's query. "Everyone get all that?"

Low murmurs of agreement echoed through the room. "You have a plan, I presume?" Keldorn raised his head enough to catch Greywulf's eyes.

"I don't know about the rest of you, but I've had just about enough lies from Linvail and his men. We're taking Aran's ship to this 'Spellhold'... just a little earlier than he expects."

X X X X X X X

A rumble of thunder rolled across the sky as clouds gathered overhead; Aerie looked up worriedly as she and Minsc stood outside the Copper Coronet, awaiting the rest of the party's arrival. It had scarce been an hour since the clerics at the Shadow Thief guildhall had declared them back to some measure of health before the party had taken their leave from Aran Linvail's presence. He had actually shown some surprise in the fact they had desired to leave so quickly, but he had permitted them to leave and informed them of the time of their departure from the mainland and the port from which they would be leaving. Of course he said nothing about Irenicus, the Cowled Wizards, or anything he had mentioned to Renal Bloodscalp while they had been feigning unconsciousness. They had split up, four of their number going to find an ally for their struggle, while Aerie and Minsc kept watch at the Coronet.

Aerie glanced up at Minsc appreciatively as the ranger nudged closer to Aerie, his eyes following a cloaked and hooded figure that passed by a bit too close for her comfort. The ranger's hands drifted down towards the hilt of his large sword, still watching even as the suspicious man faded off into the darkness of the slums in the coming evening. Sometimes it was definitely a good thing to have him as her protector. She exhaled in relief as soon as he was out of sight, looking up at Minsc who smiled at her gently. "Do not worry, Aerie; Minsc will not let anything happen to you. There is safety in numbers... and I count for two or three at least!"

She smiled, about to reply to him- the sound of several footsteps coming from the streets around caught their attention. Four figures appeared in the dim light, Aerie immediately taking them for the rest of the party as she stepped forward to greet them. A yellow-toothed grin took her by surprise as a scarred and lightly armored man stepped up to her, leering at the elf. "Well... what be a pretty young maid like yerself doin around the Coronet? You need some company? Me and the boys could take real good care of ya-"

"That's quite all right... I have some company, as you can see." Aerie said firmly, though she did feel a slight tingle of fear run through her. Completely unfounded, she tried to remind herself. She was a powerful wizard and a cleric... four young punks would be no problem for her, even without Minsc. Still, it was a relief to feel Minsc's presence as he stepped up beside her, his imposing figure towering over the mall as he made it a point to check the edge on Stonefire as he pulled it from his back strap.

Either the four dirty young men were counting on their superior numbers or they thought very highly of their own skills; regardless, they seemed willing to press the issue. "You think that guy scares us? You gonna wish you'd just come with us first-"

The talker never got to finish his sentence- he found himself gagging on the ground, courtesy of a slam to the stomach that Aerie had given from her quarterstaff. She dropped her weapon in position to defend as the other three gaped at their downed comrade, before shouting and charging forward. One swung a dagger dangerously close to Aerie's face; Minsc caught his wrist in one hand and squeezed, the dagger slipping as the man shrieked. The other moved to strike Minsc, never seeing Aerie's staff come up to catch him in the chin. He staggered back, tripping over the man already down, while the fourth of their number backed up slowly, eyes wide... he darted off, Minsc pushing the man he was holding away, following his comrade as he clutched his wrist in pain.

Aerie watched them retreat, the two men on the ground in front of them slowly crawling off as well, helping each other run. She exhaled, and then nodded to Minsc. "Thank you."

"For what?" Minsc raised an eyebrow. "Minsc is only doing his job... but he knows Aerie could have defended herself just as well without Minsc and Boo."

"No, I should thank you." she shook her head. "Minsc, you don't have to think of me as an... as an obligation, or a job... think more of me than that."

"Of course... eh, perhaps Minsc has put his foot where his mouth should be again. You are Minsc's witch." he considered. "Remember Aerie, for both Boo and Minsc, there can be nothing more important than that."

Aerie blushed as he put one arm around her shoulder. "Do you think they've found him yet?"

"Perhaps. Greywulf is good at finding things; Boo is sure he will find our friend. He said he would be staying at the Five Flagons for some time."

"I know, but he seemed like something of a wanderer... he might've moved on already. It has been a few weeks since we-"

"Aye! Good I found you so quickly." Bernard came bursting out of the Coronet doors, a troubled look crossing his round face. "Oh... excuse me, Miss Aerie, I thought the others had already returned. Is Miss Jaheira not yet back?"

"No... she and the others are still looking for someone." Aerie said with a frown. "What's going on?"

"There's... well, there's someone here to see her. Someone from... well, after what happened in the Hold, I don't want them to think I had anything to do with it, but I-"

"Just slow down, Bernard." Aerie said, taking his arm and steadying the man, apparently trembling just slightly. "Who's here to see Jaheira?"

Bernard swallowed. "The Harpers. They've come to find her, and pardon me for saying so, but they look none too pleased at the events of you'n your crew in past days. I'm s'posed to bring you all to them now… and I don't think they're in the mood to wait."

X X X X X X X

The noise and rancor in the crowd was similar to that which would normally take place in a crowd, perhaps an inn such as the Copper Coronet, but this was somewhat different. Rather than the cries for ale and the shouts of drunken patrons, the sound of cheering and laughter could be heard from the audience, an appreciation for the entertainment brought before them rather than a raucous mixture of sounds that ground on the nerves. The man standing on the bar twirled in place, swinging a pair of wooden spoons like swords, as he narrated the end of his tale to thunderous applause. As the story ended, he bowed once and then hopped off as he slipped into the crowd, heading for a table where four other men and women sat. He seated himself before them, one eyebrow raised in anticipation. "Well?"

"It was pretty good... a bit dramatic in parts, I have to say." Greywulf shrugged with a smile. "The demons weren't that big. And I notice your own part in the rescue seemed a bit... expanded, from what really happened?"

"Ah, but to those who were not among our adventure, the fiends might've been a hundred stories in height and I might've slain them all with a single word of power! I did not lie to the audience, I merely expanded the limits of their imagination." the man chuckled, taking a deep draw from the mug of ale before him. "But I fear you did not come simply to feed your own egos... you told me before the performance that you had something of a proposition."

"That we do." Keldorn nodded with a frown. "A job, really. We told you about the situation with Imoen and the Shadow Thieves..."

"And how their leader has lied to you at every turn from the beginning." he smirked. "At the risk of offending you, I should have thought it would be obvious that Linvail could not be trusted."

"Call us naive." Greywulf pressed. "The point is, we're not going to sit around and let Aran pull the strings anymore. We're taking his ship, sans his personal crew, his spies, and his influence. The only problem is that to get the crew to set sail, they'll want Aran's authorization. That's either going to come with Aran himself..."

"Or the agent he sends with us." Jaheira finished.

The man before them sat silent for a moment... he burst out into a chorus of laughter, dying down to a chuckle or two. "You intend for me to play the part of a carrier pigeon, a messenger of the shadow fox himself. Such a chaotic twist of fate, manipulating those who would seek to do the same to you."

"We know this is a lot to ask... but we need your help." Greywulf said firmly. "Aran's men can't have the slightest clue we're not acting without his authority... the ship isn't due to set sail till tomorrow, but we have to leave tonight. This could lead to a lot of trouble, and the last thing we want is to get you tangled up with the Shadow Thieves-"

"Nay, good friends... truly, you call upon me for the role of a lifetime! I owe you all for freeing this sparrow from the dark wizard Mekrath's clutches, and I shall not shirk my debts." the blue-haired bard leaned across the table with a widening grin crossing his unusual scar lined features. "There are far greater tales than that of Raelis Shai and her troupe to be made in your company, and I look forward to sharing them with the Prime and beyond once our paths part!"

"So you'll help us?" Greywulf raised one eyebrow.

Haer'Dalis leaned back, finishing the rest of his ale with a smile. "Lead on, good raven... this sparrow is ready to fly."


	46. Part 2: Taking Sides

Running. Endless running through dark, empty space. The passionless void surrounding her was unending and relentless in its cruelty, never providing an exit, never an escape in sight. She tried, oh how she tried to find one. Pushing with all her might to see something, anything other than the darkness she was totally enveloped in. There was, every great once in a while, a brief glimmer of light, memory that was unspoiled and pure enough to grant her a measure of hope- until it came crashing in. Every time, without fail. The face of her captor and tormentor, that pale skin and cruel glare of malice would fill the void, a far more horrifying feeling than the endless nothingness she constantly felt subject to.

Still... either was preferable to what came at the worst of times, that mask of evil that supposedly covered a human man. He could not be human, more a monster in human form. The sound of his emotionless words, the feel of his tortures, both physical and magical, all of it intruded until she finally relented out of sheer pain and exhaustion, unable to take any more mental abuse. And once more she felt herself adrift, cut free from any ground of reality or light. But for all the torment she felt, all the crumbling thought and blurred edges of time she felt herself within, every now and then when she tried to pull herself out, heal herself, right before the torment and the pain would all start again... she would see them.

The thought of seeing them again, of feeling that brief, split second moment of hope was enough... enough to make her try once more, enough to make her brave the pain and the agony she would get in return for her efforts. The effort was torment in itself, so much pain just to start trying... but there. It was coming now, so close, so close to that drug, that addiction that she would do almost anything for... hope; hope and love.

Beams of light passed through the darkness of her mind; images swam before her, a blinding set of flashes that passed in a split second, but she recognized all of them.

_A ten year old, half-elven boy teetering on the edge of a fountain in a castle courtyard, trying to balance on one leg, seconds before losing that balance and falling headfirst into the water with a splash so loud it obscured the sound of her own giggles._

_A heavy set man with a large gut, puffing as he stumbled after her while she darted off to show the young boy engrossed in his magical studies her ill-gotten gains, a pair of cheap necklaces she had pilfered from his stores. _

_A teenage boy dressed in the robe of an mage's apprentice, his face shining with both sweat and enjoyment as he followed after her, the two hiking up a set of rocky paths in the woods outside the library fortress they called home, knowing that their foster father trusted them enough to allow them these camping trips every so often... even if he still awaited their return nervously._

_The feel of his tight embrace as that same teenage boy, now grown into a man, clutched her tightly, the two of them shedding tears and sobs of grief, knowing that their father would never be waiting for them again... would never be with them again. _

_The soft crackle of the fire as the embers floated up and away, dancing in the night as they illuminated a pair of half-elves, one male and one female, one unassuming and one proud, sitting across from her and that boy she had grown up with; for the first time since the death of her foster father, she felt safe._

She felt her body swell with hope as these images continued to fill her, warming her and providing relief from the cold that chilled her so often in the emptiness of her prison. The strain was greater now, the urge to stop before the pain overwhelmed everything and took her again. But it was too addicting. This hope, this warmth that melted the ice of her mind, she could not stop. She had to continue...

_Trying not to laugh as she shook the big man's hand in front of her, the earnest grin on his face overshadowed by the fact that his other hand was holding out a large and fuzzy hamster for her to say hello to as well, there in the streets of Nashkel._

_Descending a rope to the bottom of an old, bloodstained pit, filled with bones, mud, debris, garbage, along with one exhausted woman... extending her hand to the crumpled woman on the ground, she heard herself call out a name, then the name of the big, worried mammoth up amidst the dead gnoll captors; that raised the head of the woman, and as she looked up above to the ranger standing above, a smile broke out onto the woman's face._

_Raising a glass of celebration as these four men and women, once strangers, drank with her and the boy from her youth; one eye drifted over to him as one of his did the same towards her. A pair of simultaneous winks passed as they downed their glasses, knowing exactly what each other were thinking: they had a family now. For the first time in a long time... they had a family. _

"Poor child... dreaming again? Dreaming of lies and falsehoods? Let me remind you of the truth..." the sound of her harsh voice shattered those joyous lights like glass, sending her spiraling back into the abyss of her mind. The visage of her leering, fanged face came to mind once more, sending throbbing pangs of fear and pain through her. It wasn't the worst part; that was yet to come. Still, even as she prepared for the tortures of Irenicus to overcome her again while Bodhi taunted and screamed at her, she tried to hold onto the last vestiges of her memory.

_The noble Wychlarian, her posture straight and high as the farthest corners of her mouth turned upward. standing beside the mammoth ranger, his emotions always on his sleeve, grinning from ear to ear as he held one hand on his sword hilt, the other cupping his constant guide and companion._

_The unassuming yet undefeatable spirit that indwelt the half-elf, a content and peaceful smile crossing his handsome features as he glanced toward the woman his arm was around; she held him just as tight; her proud features adorned by that long brown hair and those green eyes giving way to the obvious enjoyment she felt in that moment, in that single time of peace and stillness._

_The boy of her youth, still beside her, a grin crossing his face as he glanced down at her, the pink hair that obscured her vision mussed and tussled from their last bit of wrestling-_

Imoen sat in her cell, eyes blank and red with the pain that was rushing through her. Still, even though she could feel nothing but pain, and the remnants of her memory were once more shattered and splintered through the corridors of her mind... the briefest glimmer of a smile sat there on her face for a moment. The smile faded, and a tear ran down her cheek. Something... something was missing again. Something she desperately wanted, something she had possessed just a brief second prior. The worst part was... she couldn't remember what it was anymore.

X X X X X X X

"The Copper Coronet? Interesting... I have visited this fine establishment on occasion during my time in the city, but I would not think our lovely ptarmigan would find it to her tastes." Haer'Dalis mused, somehow missing the raised eyebrow from Jaheira as the group of five came into view of the inn.

"Trust me bard, few of the establishments in this city are to my tastes. 'Tis the nature of the city in general... it reeks of unbalance." she tossed behind her as they opened the door and entered in, the blast of noise forcing the druid to heighten the tone of her voice for the last few words so as for the bard to hear her.

"Do I sense a hint of challenge in your last comment?" Haer'Dalis chuckled. "You find my own chaotic style of life disturbing, I think. Or is it wonderment on your part to see the other side of the balance, as it were, to experience the chaos I represent as a member of the Doomguard? Perhaps I should compose a poem of sorts to commemorate our future relationship-"

"A poem which shall find its way down your throat should you continue with such foolish words. Cut your tongue on such flattering words with some inexperienced maiden." Jaheira cut him off with a roll of the eyes.

The bard managed to effect an air of hurt feelings, swooning over towards Greywulf as he glanced back at Jaheira with a shake of the head. "Truly, the company you keep never ceases to astound me, my raven. Not only does she stifle my creative muse, but she manages to break this bard's heart as well all in one fell swoop."

"You've got a lot of courage to say what you just did to Jaheira, you know that, right?" Greywulf replied with a hint of incredulity. "The last person who tried some kind of corny pickup line on Jaheira ran away crying."

"Ah, but you forget... 'the play's the thing', as the immortal one doth say. There would be no drama should she accept this bard's advances." Haer'Dalis shrugged. "Unrequited love is so much more dramatic... perhaps you know something of this, my raven?"

Greywulf smiled, trying to keep a hint of sadness from his face as he glanced at Jaheira again. "You don't know the half of it."

The bard might have pried further into Greywulf's words, but a cry from across the room caught his attention, his face breaking out into a wide grin as he spied the elf maiden flying across the room towards him, her protector following closely behind. "Aerie, my mourning dove... it has been far too long since this poor bard's eyes had the chance to gaze upon your beauty."

"Er... thank you, Haer'Dalis... it has been a while." she smiled nervously. "I... well, we have news."

"Your countenance does not bode well, Aerie." Keldorn said with a frown. "What has happened in our absence? Has Linvail been alerted to our plans?"

"No... not the Shadow Thieves." Jaheira's voice broke through, her tone hard as she gazed through the crowd, away from the rest of the party. "The Harpers are here, aren't they?"

Her last few words were a whisper; Yoshimo silently drew closer to her, one hand fidgeting towards one of his twin katanas. "How do you know this?"

"There are at least five different men and women in the room who have not taken their eyes off us since we entered... one of them has a Harper pin around his neck... there."

As if hearing her words, the man she had been referring to stood and headed down a hall in the back of the Coronet, back towards the old gladiator cells and pits. The others in the room did not move, but stopped watching, turning their heads back to their meals or drinks, giving no indication they had ever been watching. Jaheira turned back to Minsc, her face hard with worry. "Minsc... what did you hear?"

"Bernard came and told Aerie and Minsc... the Harpers are waiting for you." he said gravely. "They are not happy with what we have done... Minsc does not think you should follow him."

"Intrigue amidst the kin who Harp? You have been busy since our last meeting." Haer'Dalis noted, eyeing the remaining Harpers in the room. "Should you decide to follow, it would be wise to stand as a group."

"Maybe... well, maybe it's good news." Aerie suggested with a frown. "You did speak with Reviane, after all... perhaps they've come to let you know they believe you."

"We're not sticking around to find out." Greywulf growled, pulling his cloak over him again. "I know I told you we'd have time to come up with a plan to fool Aran's guards, but you'll have to come up with some impromptu acting, Haer'Dalis. We're leaving now; if we hurry, we might be able to lose them before-"

"I'm not running." Jaheira's voice was cold, hard steel beneath her words as she cut him off abruptly.

"Jaheira, we can't take this kind of risk-"

"What would you have me do then? Flee and give them even more reason to believe me guilty? Give them a reason to hunt me down? Us?" Jaheira snapped, perhaps a bit harsher than she had intended to. Seeing their response to her outburst, she visibly tried to calm herself, though the determination in her eyes did not waver.

"Jaheira, please... there's a real possibility that if you go in there, they will kill you. No questions, just one arrow through the heart. Please, reconsider." Greywulf urged.

"You don't get to make this choice... none of you do. I will face our accusers and see this through, with or without you at my side. Though... though I would welcome your company at this judgment, should you be willing to follow."

"Then it is settled." Keldorn nodded, resting one hand on the druid's shoulder. "If you feel you must do this, then we will accompany you to whatever end this path finds... you have my word."

She met Greywulf's eyes; he shook his head with a sigh. "Never had a chance of changing your mind, did I? No... no I didn't. Haer'Dalis, you and Yoshimo should head to the Docks and prepare the ship for sailing; if things go poorly here, we'll need to make a quick getaway and the ship will have to be ready. We'll follow after a few hours, just to be safe."

Yoshimo frowned, glancing at Haer'Dalis, he said, "There might be more cause for Haer'Dalis to remain here... I can handle this task on my own, should you want more protection-"

"Nonsense; I was hired to perform, remember, thief? Perform I shall; have some faith in our raven and his flock." Haer'Dalis nodded and shook the sorcerer's hand once before turning on his heel and heading for the door, the thief following behind him as the two slipped out of the Coronet. Keldorn watched the door close behind them, then rested one hand on the hilt of his sword and deferred to Jaheira. "Lead on."

She strode to the wooden door, passing through the familiar path leading towards the slave pits, shadows flickering across the corridor as they went, making the short walk that much more menacing. Even though it had been more than a month since the last fight had been held in the arena, the stench of blood was still faint in the air as they entered the sandy arena, overlooked by balconies in the upper bar of the Coronet. The raucous noise of the patrons could still be made out, though they seemed to fade as the five of them slowly moved into the center of the sandy pits and traps.

Sidestepping a broken sword that had been buried in the sand, Jaheira's eyes narrowed as she scanned the area, peering through the darkness in the corners and niches of the arena that were hidden from their eyes; something brushed up against the side of her leg, spurring a quick step back along with a swing of her spear, the tip coming to rest inches from a decaying human skull, still attached to most of the rest of the skeleton, perhaps missing a few pieces here and there, but half-buried with one arm sticking out as though grasping, the hand touching her briefly as she passed by. She exhaled deeply, glancing at the others who were similarly on edge.

A blur of motion caught their attention off in the opposite side of the arena; none of them were quick enough to spy the culprit. Jaheira gritted her teeth in frustration; she raised her head and shouted out, "I do not have time for these games; if you wish to bring an accounting of crimes against me, then do so and let us be done with it. I have come and I demand the respect I am owed as a Harper!"

For a brief moment, there was nothing but silence, the only sound the peripheral background bar murmur. Before long, a figure stepped from the pillars on the opposite end of the arena, his hood down as he revealed himself. His face was lined with years of experience and his eyes betrayed a calculating and keen mind. The gray hair he sported did not seem to suggest a form of weakness, but only served to accentuate his features, somehow making them more precise and developed. A sheath containing a long sword could be made out at his side, a set of studded leather armor covering his chest. He did not come closer, but stayed at distance... but even from there, the sight of a small pin, glittering around his neck, could barely be made out. "You haven't changed at all since we last spoke, Jaheira... you're still just as impatient and impetuous as when I first met you."

Jaheira's face seemed to lose its edge for a moment, the druid showing hesitation as she slowly approached, as though unwilling to accept the presence of this man. "Der... Dermin? It... it has been a long time..."

"It has indeed, Jaheira." Dermin Courtierdale nodded, eyes narrowing. "Though perhaps not long enough..."

X X X X X X X

Yoshimo looked behind him once more, though whether it was to ensure Haer'Dalis was still following close behind him as he navigated the quickest and least watched paths to the Docks or to ensure that they were not being followed was uncertain. Finding their way through any sizable portion of the city without being spotted by someone associated or affiliated with the Shadow Thieves was quite the task; if not for the chaos caused by the guild war it might have been impossible. Still, Yoshimo's prowess and knowledge of the ins and outs of the city streets proved invaluable and their path had been a quiet and uneventful one so far. Yoshimo was inwardly glad that the bard had obeyed his instruction and kept the amount of talking he did to a minimum; while Haer'Dalis was fun to trade barbs with at times... their mission depended on secrecy. Counting off the number of streets and turns they had made, Yoshimo made another quick mental calculation and turned left at the next crossway. Haer'Dalis brightened as the sight of the docks came into view at the end of the two buildings they were passing between, coming out by a set of salesmen standing by their fish booths, selling meat and any other number of goods purportedly caught from the sea, though how much was genuine and how much was fake remained to be seen. The bounty hunter chuckled as he glanced at a set of 'pearls' that had supposedly been taken directly from the ocean floor; though he claimed their worth was over a thousand gold pieces, the seller was doing his customers a favor and lowering the price to five hundred.

Apparently Haer'Dalis had seen the ersatz gems as well; he sauntered over to the salesman, leaning over to the necklace as though eyeing it intently. The seller, believing himself to have found a potential buyer, rubbed his palms together, fixing a grin on his large, slightly bloated face. "Ah, I can see that you have an eye for beauty, good sir. A real find, ain't it? Pearls come right straight from the ocean herself! Ain't gonna find that kind of deal just anywhere, y'know. Be a perfect gift for a lady friend if you got one... but of course you do, what am I saying! You interested?"

"Perhaps, my over-eager friend... prithee, where did you find such magnificent jewels?"

"Oh... 'tis a fine story, but you'd ne'er believe me if I told you." the man said, waving Haer'Dalis off. "Came by it when I was working the shores of the Sword Coast; mighty dangerous times and places, to be sure! But Tymora musta seen me and decided it was my day, cause no sooner had I been fishin when I pulled this straight from the deep! Mighty strange, but 'tis truly how it happened!"

"I see." Haer'Dalis said, running one hand through his blue hair. "And surely you made the proper offerings to appease the Mistress of the Deep when you had done so, correct?"

"I... huh?"

"You... you do not mean to tell me that you took a treasure from the Bitch Queen Umberlee herself, without offering something in return, do you?" Haer'Dalis asked in veritable shock. "Doing so is a sure way to bring about catastrophic curse on you and your house, my friend; tell me you jest!"

"I, well no, I suppose I didn't... but I've never... never heard of a curse-"

"You wound me, to doubt my honesty in this matter when I only seek to protect you, sir. Hold; you there, priest!" Haer'Dalis called to Yoshimo who had been watching the exchange with amusement. "I spoke with you earlier today in the temple of Umberlee... tell this storekeep of the curse that shall befall those who steal from the Queen of the Deep."

"Aye... a sad and tragic curse it is." Yoshimo nodded. "My mistress does not brook thieves lightly; the waves shall claim him in the end whether shallow or deep, her power will sweep over his possessions, his family, and finally the offender himself. A terrible way to meet one's end, but there must be punishment for those who break the laws of the sea. You... you did not take this necklace from Umberlee, did you?"

"Unfortunately, he has admitted to such." Haer'Dalis shook his head sorrowfully. "Can the man be saved, good priest?"

"But I didn't! This... this isn't real, I just... I just found some stones and some other gems that looked like pearls and made a necklace... I haven't done anything to Umberlee." the storekeep half sputtered, half wailed.

"What? My ears deceive me, surely... you would not only steal from Umberlee, but lie to a member of her faithful about it?" Haer'Dalis frowned. "You are a brave man... or perhaps foolhardy."

"I would not test the patience of my mistress further, storekeep." Yoshimo shook his head, the storekeep shrinking away from the bounty hunter as he drew close. "Return these stones to the sea in atonement for your transgression, lest the sea claim you for your lies."

"I will! I will!" the man veritably shouted, running with the so called necklace down toward the dock platforms with all haste. Yoshimo waited until he was out of sight... then scooped up the small pouch of money that the man had left on the counter of his selling booth. Grinning from ear to ear, he glanced over at Haer'Dalis as the two made their way further down towards the ship they were supposed to meet and prepare. "Ah, Haer'Dalis, I have never met one who can spin a tale quite as elaborate as you. Your skills are impressive... hopefully impressive enough to buy us passage onto this boat."

"Different birds of shape and size, all make their ways and livings in this multiverse somehow." Haer'Dalis shrugged, turning back towards the dock they were expected at; it wouldn't do to get too distracted in case a quick getaway really was necessary. "The path of the bard beckons this tiefling, just as your own role as a manhunter tugs at you, bloodhound."

"Still, I have known many bards; most seem ill fitted to the role of an adventurer such as yourself." the bounty hunter countered. He stopped abruptly, noticing something in the distance of the streets approaching; he motioned towards a small pile of crates up against a warehouse. Haer'Dalis and Yoshimo ducked behind it, the thief's head peeking up just high enough to spy a pair of hard faced men striding past where they had been standing seconds ago.

"Not quite as easy a task as you might have thought, hmm?" Haer'Dalis smiled.

"Just worry about the acting; I shall get us there unseen." he countered, creeping back the other way, the bard close behind. Creeping behind a set of warehouses, they jumped from cover to cover, slowly making a roundabout path down toward the piers and the docked ships. The sound of crashing bottles and crates right beside the path between two buildings they were just about to cross in front of caught them off guard; they jumped back even as Haer'Dalis drew his twin blades, Chaos and Entropy, though Yoshimo motioned for the tiefling to lower his weapons.

A man's grumblings and cursings at the apparent accident echoed forward to them, along with the sound of his footsteps as he made himself known, slipping into the darkened path before them. The man's eyes crept over to Yoshimo, lighting up with a smirk. "Ah! Yoshimo, my old friend... far too long since I laid eyes on you. Oh... I see you brought a friend as well. Don't believe we've been introduced..."

"Haer'Dalis." the bard shook the extended hand, one eye arched as he glanced back and forth between the two seemingly familiar men. "My compatriot did not tell me we would be meeting somebody here; should I be alarmed?"

"Not at all, Yoshimo here keeps a tight lid on secrets, that's all." the man shrugged. "Ah, and lest I forget to introduce myself... the name's Saemon Havarian; ship's captain and your ticket to getting out of this city."

"Indeed... Saemon has agreed to take the place of the ship's captain on board, should we be able to eliminate the current man Aran Linvail's assigned to our voyage." Yoshimo confirmed.

"Truly? It seems my acting skills are not as necessary as I had first been brought to believe." the bard frowned. "Greywulf said nothing of this development."

"Oh, you'll still definitely be needing to do some work, though it'll be a bit scrappier than simple acting. The captain of this ship spends much of his time in a warehouse nearby, counting and well... exacting his own share of some of the profits his ship brings to and from through trading between ports." Saemon explained. "Striking him then will ensure he will be at his weakest and least prepared... in fact, I wouldn't doubt he's there right now, if you need to have this deed done straight and quick."

"How convenient." Haer'Dalis said with a tight smile.

"Why Yoshimo, I do get the feeling that your compatriot doesn't exactly trust me." Saemon affected a hurt tone to his voice. "Surely you'll vouch for your old friend, eh?"

"Of course." Yoshimo threw a grin in his way, and then slapped Haer'Dalis on the back with a chuckle. "Trust me, my blue-haired friend, you have nothing to fear; a quick bit of action for your tales and we'll be on our way."

The pair left Saemon Havarian behind, following his directions toward the warehouse they sought; quite a bit closer and easier than the dock would have been in terms of distance and open area needed to cover so as to reach it. Haer'Dalis glanced over his shoulder once more as the pair, crouched by the back door of the large storehouse, awaited the results of Yoshimo's prowess in lockpicking. "Forgive me, but I do not feel your seafaring friend is entirely trustworthy... there is some quality about him that bodes ill for our venture, I should think. Just when were you informing the rest of us about your plans?"

"Do not worry; I merely kept my sources safe, that's all. Perhaps the deception of Raelis Shai has soured you on trusting others?" Yoshimo grunted out as he continued to work, Haer'Dalis stiffening slightly at the mention of the woman and her deception in dealing with her troupe of actors.

"Be careful where your words tread, bloodhound; I do not take kindly to such light jests over delicate matters."

"Ah, forgive me then. I was merely trying to lighten your countenance and fears-" the sound of the lock clicking open quieted them both, as Yoshimo slipped the door open, quietly sliding inside as Haer'Dalis did the same. The storeroom was dark, illuminated only by the fading light of the afternoon through glass panes in the ceiling, panes that were either covered in layers and layers of dirt and dust or obscured by the high stacks of crates and goods, piled up through the whole room, leaving only small paths to traverse.

Yoshimo quietly pulled the bow from his back and drew an arrow from the quiver he wore, nocking it to the string as he glanced at Haer'Dalis, gesturing for him to move ahead. The tiefling quietly unsheathed his swords and stepped forward slowly, the grace and stealth with which he moved almost on par with Yoshimo as the crept through the maze of crates, silent as shadows. The sound of creaking wood and half-rotten crates, molding with seawater would every now and then cause one of them to glance back and forth, but nothing was forthcoming. Still, their patience paid off in the end; the brief sound of men talking could faintly be heard by the two men, somewhere to their right. The path of crates diverged before them into two; Haer'Dalis nodded as Yoshimo pointed at one while he crept down the other.

Haer'Dalis inhaled slightly as the sound of men walking in the path before him took him by surprise. He quickly ducked back into the path Yoshimo had taken, waiting for the footsteps to fade... there. He crept back out and silently sped up toward the footsteps, catching a glimpse of two men walking through the crate paths before they turned a corner and were out of sight. He followed them, always just far enough back that his presence was unnoticeable; within minutes he found the path opening to an unloading area of sorts. There was a table and a few chairs that seated three men, along with the two who had just entered from the crates. One of the men at the table looked up from a pile of jewels he was examining greedily, and then snorted at the approaching men. "Oy, you find anything?"

"Nothin, jus' like you figured. Musta been the crates creakin' again. Sure thought I heard the back door open though. Me hearin must be going."

"S'what I though. Next time jus' listen to me and ye'll save yerself some time. I learn that a while ago. Boss says jump, you jump. Don' matter why, just do it."

"You mean like why we waitin' here in this warehouse?" one of the other men piped up.

"Yeah, did Saemon tell you anything of why we's told to be-" he never got to finish his query; an arrow buzzed down from the stacks of crates Haer'Dalis was hiding within; striking the man through the forehead and leaving him on the ground, eyes glassy and open. A scurry of activity and shouts of alarm was barely heard by Haer'Dalis as he felt himself slip into the euphoric trance of his bardic training, spinning like a dervish as both blades flashed left and right, making his presence known infinitely well as his attack came from nowhere, leaping out from his hiding spot. One blade each found a man, slicing deep into their stomachs as he twirled past them, reversing his grip in midswing so he could stab into them from behind as well, dropping them to the ground. Another arrow spat from Yoshimo's vantage point upon the stacks of crates. Once again his aim was true; another of the men fell before he could even find the direction of attack.

Haer'Dalis saw the last man, the one who had been counting the jewels on the table coming at him, lunging out with a long sword; he was just too slow to strike the bard whose sidestep took him out of the way and into a perfect parry and riposte. Entropy sliced deep into the man's shoulder and sent him screaming to the ground, dropping his blade in pain. "Mercy, I beg you! Jus' take the jewels and money, let me be!"

"Forgive me, but my role is set in stone." Haer'Dalis shrugged, almost apologetically. "T'would seem suspicious for the captain of the ship to return and find a second captain has taken his place, no?"

"Captain? I'm not-" the man's eyes bulged as his words turned to indistinguishable gags, another arrow striking him in the throat. His eyes were full of shock and surprise as he died, his head dropping as Haer'Dalis looked down upon him, silent for a moment. Haer'Dalis narrowed his eyes, looking at the confusion in the dead man's face… he looked up towards the crates he had come from and spied Yoshimo standing high upon the large stacks, lowering his bow. "It would seem we are victorious... a fine battle, I should think."

"Perhaps... perhaps, though I would have been rather interested in hearing what our so called captain had to say before he was silenced so brutally." Haer'Dalis said grimly.

"Silenced?" Yoshimo raised one eyebrow. "Forgive me, but I could not hear a word of what he might've been saying; the heat of battle, I'm sure you understand."

"Ah. I see..." Haer'Dalis nodded, glancing down at the table with the jewels resting on it, still piled up nicely. The tiefling leaned over to an azure colored gem, studying it as he held it up between his fingers. He turned to Yoshimo, still standing atop the crates and tossed him the gem with a quick throw. Yoshimo caught the gem with a raised eyebrow, glancing down at the jewel. "Pretty, but I should think we have little time to be examining the quality of jewelry when our companions might be on their way so soon."

"No indeed... we would not want to keep Saemon waiting, or the others, would we? You have a deadline to meet, yes?" the bard smirked tightly at Yoshimo's somewhat confused expression, then continued, though he did not sheath his blades. "Come now, it is just the two of us here. No need for false pretenses; this sparrow adores a good tale."

"Haer'Dalis!" Yoshimo barked a laugh. "Did you take a blow to your head in the battle? What are you talking about?"

"You might attribute it to my tiefling blood, maybe to my unique vision as a Doomguard... or perhaps my simple instincts. Regardless, I am an excellent judge of character." Haer'Dalis said with narrowed eyes, his tone deepening slightly. "You, my friend, are more than what you seem. You search out your prey, relentless in your hunt... but who exactly is the hunted in this game of cat and mouse, hmm?"

"You talk in riddles, friend." the thief responded, his own smile fading just slightly. "We should leave before some of the captain's men return-"

"Unlikely, I should think." Haer'Dalis shook his head. "I do believe our good friend Saemon Havarian is the true captain of this ship; at least from what little I heard before you silenced both men who might've let your secret slip. You're growing sloppy, hound... had you been this careless prior, your companions would have discovered you long ago. Who was this man we slaughtered so easily? Some rival of the good captain? A first mate whose expendability was required so I mightn't have learned the truth?"

"Your words are madness to me, bard." Yoshimo frowned. "Tell me, do you recite a story of sorts, or is this some ploy to suit your own needs and wants?"

"The events you spawn here will be chaotic, that much is true. They certainly have been so far. I would venture that you and Saemon have been planning this deception for some time... though throwing my presence into our meeting forced the two of you to think of some errand, some way to prove to me that you and Saemon had not been collaborating and plotting from the beginning; should that have gotten out, it would have raised too many questions about what else you were hiding." Haer'Dalis rubbed his chin slightly as if in thought. "How I wonder what the good raven will think when he learns of your betrayal. That is what you plan, is it not? To betray your comrades to this monster they call Irenicus."

Yoshimo's face flickered for a moment with what might have been pain, but it returned to incredulity within a split second. "Insanity! Surely I would not aid the madman who kidnapped me as well-"

"Just in time for Greywulf and his comrades to find you in his dungeon." Haer'Dalis cut him off once more. "We might bandy words of poetic and legendary challenge for some time, but I think we may settle this with no further debate. That gem I tossed you?"

Yoshimo glanced down at the small jewel; he dropped it in surprise as he found it glowing bright red in his hand; the tiefling stepped forward to catch it, examining the stone with satisfaction. "This is no ordinary gem, my indebted friend. It is actually a Soul Stone of sorts; I have seen many on my journeys through the Planes. 'Twas a kind of stone such as this that bound me to Mekrath's clutches. This particular one has a most interesting property; it detects a binding on the Soul of another through any form... perhaps a Geas, or a powerful enough enchantment. From the way I have seen you act with our companions, I surmise you have no desire to commit this treachery of yours. And from that glimpse of torment I witnessed crossing your face, I would venture a Geas. Tell me, bloodhound… am I close?"

Yoshimo's face was hard, his mouth tight as he stood above Haer'Dalis, eyes locked with his. The tiefling bard shrugged once more, opened his mouth to speak- The sound of the door behind Haer'Dalis grabbed his attention for a brief second, spotting Saemon Havarian stepping into the room, looking at the two questioningly. An enormous crash echoed behind Haer'Dalis; he turned back to Yoshimo with realization… too late. He barely had time to look up and spy an avalanche of crates raining down from where Yoshimo had been standing; he managed to raise one hand in defense before the mass of wood and nail shattered upon his head, dropping him to the ground with an explosion of dust and wood, burying him completely as Yoshimo toppled over one last stack, adding to the growing pile that covered the tiefling bard.

Saemon coughed as he covered his mouth with one fist, squinting as dust from the avalanche filled the room, waiting as Yoshimo stared down at the pile of rubble and debris. The thief did not say a word as he leapt from crate to crate back down to the floor level; a vicious glare from Yoshimo silenced Saemon from any questions he might've otherwise asked, the pair leaving the warehouse together, closing the door behind them. The sound of a few crates still dropping here and there, small splinters of wood coming off and clattering to the floor still filled the warehouse with dust and echoes. The pile of broken wood and crates was enormous; it would be foolhardy to think one might've survived such a vicious ambush. Nothing of Haer'Dalis was visible... nothing but one hand, resting just outside the circumference of debris, the hilt of the sword Chaos lying in his limp palm.

X X X X X X X

"I cannot see this ending without death, Jaheira... his." Dermin said, pointing at Greywulf. "Your own kin have died, and the blood is upon his hands… and yours. You have one chance to make this right. What do you intend to do about it?"

There was dead silence in the air as the two Harpers stared each other down. No amount of pleading or reaching out to old friendships and mentors could save this now... Dermin had declared the Harpers' stance. Guilty. Every one of them, guilty on all counts of murdering the Harpers at the Hold in Athkatla. Greywulf had remained quiet through the whole judgment and accusations; in the end, it was all his fault. All of it stemmed around him and his blood; he had no right to tell her what to do. It was her choice to make.

Jaheira's eyes flickered with so many different emotions; fear, anger, sorrow... her words were quiet as she spoke again. "Please... Dermin, do not make me do this. You know me better than this, you know who I am..."

"As did Reviane; her refusal to deal with the job given her has resulted in her status as a Harper set under suspension. Jaheira, the Council will not have it any other way."

"You can't do this! She was following her heart-" Aerie began, but Dermin silenced her with a glare. Jaheira's head was down, unwilling to meet Dermin. There was naught but silence in the room for several seconds. Finally her voice, almost cracking and overflowing with emotion rang out. "I cannot. I cannot do as you ask, Dermin. You are in the wrong, as was Galvarey. I... Silvanus help me, I was right to choose Greywulf's side, and it is your loss if you cannot see this."

Dermin's eyes narrowed as he said, "Consider carefully what you are saying, child. You have a duty to justice."

"This is not justice, damn it!" Jaheira snapped, her head shooting up to face Dermin with tears of anger rolling down her cheeks. "This is revenge for a lie that nobody has bothered to find the truth behind! Why are you so blinded?"

Dermin shook his head, "Is it not you who has been blinded? Traveling with this Bhaalspawn for so long... you cannot see how much imbalance you have caused in his company! What would Gorion think of your actions-"

"Do not speak of him!" Jaheira shouted back. "Gorion asked me to care for this youth, to take his role as a watcher... and I have not regretted a day! Gorion would seen the foolishness of your hunt, Gorion would have... would have..."

"Gorion would have done his duty." Dermin said quietly. "Can you do yours?"

Jaheira seemed to quiet at those words, everyone present listening intently. Jaheira seemed to consider Dermin's words; she finally looked up at Dermin, determination in her eyes once more. "You are right, Dermin. Gorion would have done his duty to justice... and I shall do mine. To that end, I renounce my life as a Harper."

"Jaheira… you cannot mean… think this through!" Dermin exclaimed in disbelief.

"It would seem I am the only one who has thought this through. You do not, Galvarey did not, and the Harpers out for blood do not." Jaheira said, her anger and determination overriding any uncertainty she still felt. "I mourn my fellows of the Harp, but they died fighting for balance and truth. Galvarey did not, and this matter cheapens their loss. I will not be party to it."

Dermin nodded, seeing there was no chance of changing her mind. "So be it then. I will take your words to those that will listen. Do not expect your life to be peaceful with this choice."

"It shall not be peaceful, but it is clearer than the course you are on. Goodbye, old friend."

Dermin gave her one last look before activating a spell stone to transport him away; disappearing in a flash, the faintest hint of sorrow could be seen on his face as he left the five of them. "Who was he?" Aerie asked quietly.

Jaheira's voice was tired, weary as she spoke. "Dermin… he was the one who introduced me to the Harpers. It was near the time I had left the druid grove, while I was attempting to find some way of maintaining the balance, finding a cause to fight for. I had been adventuring for nearly two years on my own when I first met him. I was in the middle of a fight with a group of gnolls that had been attacking an outlying farm near a city. There were more than I had thought, and they threatened to overwhelm me, until Dermin showed up with two other Harpers. They aided me... saved my life. He introduced me to the Harpers afterwards... introduced me to Gorion."

She looked up, glancing at the others, new tears threatening to spill from her green eyes. "If it were not for him, I... I would not have met Khalid... would not have passed the trials. He was my mentor... my friend... he was at my wedding, damn it..."

She shuddered once, wiping her face angrily as she looked Greywulf square in the face. "No... no. Enough grieving for these lies. We all have much to do and much to repay, and together we will not fail. We… we will not fail."


	47. Part 2: In the Eye of the Storm

The smell of salt was heavy in the air, a bitter scent as it mixed with the fish from the sea. The smell, however, was not the only bitter part of their journey. The mood was dark, the countenance of the party downcast. Nobody was untouched by the implications of what had just happened... and yet nobody could fully understand what Jaheira had just given up. The sound of a sail flapping in the wind caught Greywulf's attention even as he pulled his gaze from the street he had been staring at while 'leading' them onward to the Docks; truthfully, the last thing he felt like right then was a leader. Just when he had believed things might've been pulling their way, that the gods above were finally dealing him a good hand... they were sent crashing back down to earth. Greywulf raised his eyes above, pleading inside. Was it really too much to ask, just one day of respite? One day of peace, if not for him, then for the rest of the party? As if responding, whether by laughter or anger to his plea, a rumble of thunder echoed above, the prior flash of lightning leaving a faint afterimage from the distant clouds it had originated from.

"The clouds on the horizon are moving swiftly... they will be overhead within the hour."

Keldorn's steady voice brought him back to the present, glancing to the side where the venerable paladin walked beside him, his gaze also upon the clouds above. Still, he was undoubtedly more focused on making sense of their situation than pleading- demanding almost, that the gods finally make some sense of their ways and decrees. Greywulf looked out to where Keldorn's eyes were focused; sure enough, a rolling bundle of darkened clouds were slowly moving forward on the ocean horizon, making their way towards Athkatla. "Yes, I suppose they will. They're so dark... I doubt the rains will miss us either."

"No... no, probably not. But then again, the rains are sometimes a most welcome event; they wash away the grime and dirt of the past, giving new life to what might otherwise a dark and dirty place."

Greywulf let a half-hearted smile drift onto his face. "Keldorn, that was quite possibly the worst inspirational analogy I've heard in a while. Please don't tell that to Jaheira."

"Ah, perhaps my subtlety grows shorter as I grow older." he sighed with a shrug. "Your face bore the look of one who might benefit from a little guidance; while I would be more than willing to offer my own opinion, perhaps you might continue looking upward for your direction."

"That's the problem; every time I look upward I get spat on in the eye." Greywulf retorted, though Keldorn did not take offense; rather if he did, he did not show it. It took Greywulf a few minutes of silence before he realized his comment might've been less than pleasing to the older man. He turned to speak, but Keldorn waved him off with a hand.

"Don't worry, boy. I understand completely... tis a hard thing to trust in the benevolence of those above when all you see is hardship and toil below. You have had a harder life than most; I credit you with keeping the faith for this long." Keldorn said, respect in his voice rather than wariness or coolness. Greywulf once again found himself looking on the man with a bit of envy and admiration, wondering if he would ever reach the kind of maturity and dignity that this man before him showed.

"It's hard not to keep faith that the gods have a plan when your father was one of them." Greywulf sighed with a flex of his neck. "The real question is whether that plan involves tormenting me for the sins of the father, so to speak."

Keldorn chuckled with a brief smile as the sound of thunder above echoed once more. Shadow seemed to cover the area as the sun was obscured by the clouds, darkening their path even further. At another time Greywulf would have gone ahead and called it another omen of misfortune, but Keldorn's presence seemed to lighten his disposition, the man's unwavering belief in the good to come giving him a bit of that same belief. The two of them said no more for the rest of the journey to the dock where their ship awaited, still at least a day before scheduled. Two men stood at the ready, one sporting a large captain's hat with a plume extending from the back, garbed in an oversized coat with a sword at his side. He was chatting amiably enough with the man he stood beside, their companion and bounty hunter Yoshimo.

The thief caught sight of them a few dozen yards off; waving to the crew, he said something to Saemon as they approached, shaking Greywulf's hand as he got within range. "I see you have made it; friends, may I introduce Saemon Havarian. He is the one Aran Linvail assigned to take us to Spellhold."

"True enough, that I am." Havarian said with a bow, taking Aerie's hand and kissing it as he bowed to the party. "I admit, it took me by surprise that Linvail would send you off ahead of schedule, but his agent had all the necessary paperwork and I'm not one to disobey the Shadowmaster."

"Speaking of Aran's man... I was under the impression he was coming with us." Greywulf noted, glancing meaningfully at Yoshimo. "Where is he?"

"He... took his leave." Yoshimo said, apparently choosing his words carefully. "Said something about reporting back to Aran on orders. I did not question him of course."

"Did he now..." Greywulf glanced at the others, and then back toward the docks behind them, as though expecting to see Aran Linvail and a group of Shadow Thieves descending upon them with Haer'Dalis at the lead. "We'd best get going then; is your ship ready to depart, Captain? Everything taken care of?"

"Never a fear nor worry should cross your thoughts this eve, m'Lord." Saemon chuckled. "I have traveled this sea a good many times, and I foresee no troubles. The gold, which I understand you supplied, has purchased the silence and passage of this ship... though a silence more symbolic than anything. You may well find my men a boisterous lot at all hours. I encourage general revelry."

"I'm sure." Jaheira noted with irritation, fingering her spear. "We should depart now; there is little time to waste."

Saemon shrugged, moving aside for the party to head up the gangplank and onto the ship. "As you wish. All aboard and we'll set sail!"

The crew made way quickly, setting out from the dock with good time. The port of Athkatla faded into the distance rapidly, shrinking into a speck on the horizon as the ship knifed through the waters beyond the Sword Coast. The clouds were already overhead, and threatened at any moment to spill their contents over the ship below. Still, the winds were not fully opposed to Saemon's direction, and they kept moving at a respectable pace. Greywulf stood at one rail of the boat, still lost in his own thought, trying to suppress the guilt that continued to plague his heart. How much had he cost Jaheira already? Gorion, Khalid... now the Harpers? He bit back a curse, tearing his gaze from the dark waters and over to their captain. He stood at the wheel, wrestling with the rudder control even as he whistled a merry tune, despite the ferocity of the winds around them. "I... I am sorry I could not inform you of Haer'Dalis' departure sooner."

Greywulf turned to see Yoshimo approaching behind, an apologetic expression on his face. He exhaled deeply, turning to face the bounty hunter fully. "Yoshimo... where did Haer'Dalis go? I certainly hope you were lying about him going back to Aran Linvail."

"No... I do not know for certain, truly." Yoshimo confessed. "After we had convinced Saemon that we had Linvail's full authorization to do this, he told us both that Linvail expected him to file a full report of our departure time and numerous other things I cannot even begin to remember. I could say nothing before Havarian, and so he left. Perhaps he betrayed us, I cannot say. It is, I think, a good thing we left before he returned. Perhaps you think me inhospitable, but I did not fully trust Haer'Dalis."

"He was different, that's for sure." Greywulf mused. "Still, why would he betray us? Doesn't make sense. Maybe he decided he didn't want to get any further involved than he already was."

"Regardless, I explained the matter to the others." Yoshimo mentioned, Greywulf nodding appreciatively. "In talking to Jaheira, she did not seem herself... how did events transpire with the Harpers?"

Greywulf did not answer, that pang of guilt rising in his heart once more. Yoshimo looked on Greywulf's troubled face, and then nodded with a bow. "I understand. Perhaps I shall go speak with our captain... he seems a good enough fellow."

Far behind Greywulf, almost on the other side of the ship, two crewmen stood by a crank mechanism, working it with great toil and effort. One man rested his full weight on it while he raised a hand to wipe the sweat from his brow. "Didn' think the anchor was ever this heavy before, y'know?"

"Yeah... we pulled this thing up to the halfway mark so we could set sail and I thought it felt heavier... maybe something caught on it, huh?"

The two continued moving the crank handle, grunting with the effort of moving it up even further until they could heft the large anchor up and on board... "Ah... I had been wondering when you would pull me up the rest of the way; excuse me, but I have a hound to kill."

Both men turned abruptly to see a blue haired form resting on the rail of the ship, a split second before he grabbed their heads and knocked them together, the two collapsing on the crank, keeping it in place. Haer'Dalis dropped softly onto the ship, running one hand through his soaked hair. He winced with the movement; glancing back down at his arm, the makeshift bandage he had wrapped it in was still together, though a few more hours would require a changing. He quickly secured the anchor in position, then grabbed a hand from both men and dragged them over to a small alcove hidden across the deck. Leaning them up against a few crates of rum, he rubbed his chin, and then shook his head. "No, no... this will never do."

Haer'Dalis pulled a bottle from the stack of crates, splashed some over their shirts and their mouths, then placed a bottle in each of their hands. Smiling with satisfaction as he stood, he heard the sound of footsteps passing him by, to which he quickly crouched down, watching with narrowed eyes as Yoshimo and Saemon Havarian walked by, speaking in hushed tones. Haer'Dalis let a smirk play across his face as they disappeared from his vision_. A good effort bloodhound, but the final act has yet to be played out._

Slipping from the small alcove, it was only a few short moments before he reached the stairs heading below deck, barely hearing Saemon's call to the rest of the crew and party for dinner. He barely caught sight of himself in a mirror as he descended: shirt torn in several places, new cuts and dried blood marring skin on his face and arms, the worst one that might have proved life threatening wrapped up before he had snuck up to the docks as the ship left the pier. He had barely managed to grab the chain pulling the anchor up halfway before it came up entirely. He shook his head and kept moving, his own agenda and purpose solidly at the forefront of his mind.

X X X X X X X X

The sound of steel hitting steel rung through the air, sparks flying as the blades collided once more. Aran Linvail pulled back from the blow, letting his weapon come back down to the second attack headed for his legs. It was blocked just as easily, though it had never been intended to hit. No, Aran decided with a smile, that swing was just to keep them both alert. The real strike intended to kill would be coming up right...

A feint to the left nearly caught him off guard, but his instincts were correct; the second blade swung down at his head from an angle impossible to dodge from should he have moved to intercept the feint. Aran brought his sword up to knock the attack aside, stepping into the swing to deliver an elbow strike to his opponent's chin. Arkanis stumbled backward, rubbing his mouth painfully as Aran exhaled, lowering his blade. The assassin acknowledged the break in the practice with a nod, trudging over to the table to the pitchers of water waiting for them. Aran sheathed his blade, taking a glass from a man awaiting his order. Aran nodded for the man to depart, then leaned against the wall, waiting for Arkanis to finish his own breather so that their practice could continue.

Arkanis was better than he, that was true enough, though that could be more attributed to youth than anything. At one point, in his prime, Aran knew he had been the best. His years had stolen that from him, but that was of no consequence; what he lacked in youth he would make up in skill. And the next time he faced Bodhi...

"Pardon my intrusion, sire... but there is news from our men at the pier." the sound of one his spies' voice caught his attention; Linvail turning to glare at the man with force enough he almost lost composure. He allowed himself a bit of satisfaction in knowing how much weight his very glance carried, then nodded for him to continue. "What kind of news?"

"It concerns pier thirty-three... the platform where the Galante was docked. Havarian's ship."

Aran's eyes narrowed; he stepped over to the man his blade still clutched tightly in his hands, though it was more the smoldering fire in his eyes that caused the man standing before the Shadowmaster to unnerve. "What has happened... do not make me ask you again."

"Sire... the Bhaalspawn and his companions... they have taken the ship and departed. Somehow... somehow they convinced Havarian to leave-"

"And you tell me that none of your men did anything to stop them. Nothing at all, despite my orders. Tell me, did I not order you to halt departure of the ship unless I was there to see it off? Were my instructions unclear in any way?" Aran questioned.

"No, sire. I... we thought you might have sent them early, that you changed your plans without telling us, my lord." the spy fumbled, trying to look everywhere but the piercing glare directed towards him.

Linvail sheathed his sword, turning away from the sweating man. "You were mistaken. Fail me again and it will cost you your life... for now, get back to your post and inform the rest of the network to keep an eye out for Havarian. Should Saemon ever contact us again, he is to be killed immediately."

The man bowed and veritably ran out of the room, eager to be away from Linvail's ire. Arkanis approached Aran, one eyebrow raised. "You are not concerned about Greywulf and the others?"

"They obviously have their own agenda... we shall wait and see just what it is." Aran shrugged, picking up his cloak from the table nearby and wrapping it around himself once more. "Should it benefit us, good and well. If not... we captured them once, and we can certainly do it again. This time, they will find us less hospitable."

X X X X X X X X

The ship's interior dining hall was surprisingly nice for what the ship was undoubtedly used for most of the time. The party and the majority of the crew had followed Saemon's call down to the galley, most of the crew seating themselves at a table set for them, while Saemon and the others took a private room. A large platter of food was set up and split onto each plate, seven places set. Courses of bread, meat, fresh fruit and other exotic types of vegetables were all placed at their leisure; apparently Aran kept his ships well stocked. As each took their seat, Saemon gazed through the seated group and smiled as he picked out the oriental thief, chatting up one of the crew mates, surreptitiously picking his pocket while he did. "Yoshimo? Would you mind helping me grab the goblets of wine from the kitchen? I fear I'll need more than two hands."

Yoshimo nodded and left for a moment even as he adroitly slid the crewman's purse into his own pocket, leaving the room with Saemon to the kitchen galley. He was swift to return with Saemon and the wine, carrying three of the goblets on a platter, Saemon with the other four. As he put each one before his companions, Yoshimo remained standing and said, "We, ah... we have a tradition in Kara-Tur, something to commemorate journeys such as this one, when they draw near a close. Something similar to a toast, I should think. It would be an honor to partake with these fine and worthy friends I have made. May we all get what we've come for."

The others nodded and drank with Yoshimo, then partook of the food before them. Their food and drink were both excellent, even as Saemon did little eating, more interested in swapping tales with any member of the party who was not engaged in eating at the moment. Despite the number of stories passed between lips, very little of Havarian ever was revealed; a man gifted with a silver tongue and the knowledge of how to use it well, Keldorn noted. Saemon laughed as he listened to the end of a particularly good tale from Minsc, then set his silverware down, gazing from one end of the party to the other. "I trust everything was satisfactory? Come, enjoy yourselves with some musical entertainment I've brought along."

Two women came in and sat down, playing many different instruments for the group. Numerous tunes and songs they had never heard or played before, each one beautiful in it's layout, some exotic beyond compare. As much as they might not have trusted Saemon Havarian or their voyage in general, they had to admit their trip was going quite smoothly. The journey was not yet through its first full day, but still... the sound of a harp being plucked caught Greywulf's attention, the notes beautifully played. Apparently it was the finale, Havarian clapped enthusiastically as she finished. "Fine work, eh? One of the best harpers I've met in some time. Or is it harpist? Oh yes... harpists. Harpers are those meddlesome busybodies who have nothing better to do than-"

The sound of a chair being pushed back against the wood below them with more force than necessary cut Saemon off, Jaheira pushing herself away from the table and standing abruptly, storming out of the room and towards the stairs heading above deck. Saemon looked slightly confused, even as Greywulf cursed quietly, heading after her. Keldorn turned to Saemon, a scowl on his normally unwavering cool. "Perhaps, Captain, you might consider your words more carefully before you speak..."

Greywulf darted up the stair and onto the deck above, immediately regretting it. The clouds above had begun their downpour, the sound of sheets of rain thrumming over the deck's surface nearly deafening. Greywulf covered his face with his cloak and raised one hand to ward off the wind as he pushed through the evening dusk, barely hearing himself as he called out to Jaheira. Squinting toward the bow, he could barely make out her figure, gripping the railing as she stood there amidst the torrential rains.

He pushed himself over towards her, nearly slipping over the deck a number of times, but finally making it to her side, facing her as he uncloaked his head. "Jaheira-" he could barely hear himself over the wind, and shouted to make himself known.

"Just... leave me be, Greywulf." she shouted back, attempting to turn away from him before his hand caught her arm, turning her back to him.

"Please, let me help." her eyes met his in the storm, the confusion and fear in her face betraying her. Desperation and pleading took the place of that fear, her hands gripping his cloak as though trying to find something solid, something to hang onto. "Greywulf? I don't know what to… I'm NOT used to this! I am the one in control! I am… I…"

A crack of lightning ripped across the sky, the echoing roll of thunder following close by. Greywulf shook his head, trying to find a way to understand and salve the guilt that plagued both their hearts. "Jaheira, why did you leave the Harpers? Why for me?"

"Selfish! Selfish! Selfish! People have died because of… what I want, what I see in… you. Dermin... the Harpers, all of them have rightfully turned their backs! Rightfully! I… Selfish." she cried back, trying to pull away again before Greywulf kept her there.

"You did what you thought was right; to do anything other would not have been you. We both know this-" Greywulf spoke, trying so desperately to believe it himself.

"Did I truly do what was right? What if I am wrong? What if my own stupid thoughts have colored what I see?! What if you…" Jaheira began frantically, looking into Greywulf's face for some sort of answer. "What if it all goes wrong? What happens to what is lost? I can't risk any more! So much is… so much is gone."

Greywulf put out one hand and lifted her downcast chin to have her gaze meet his eyes. He glanced up, then gave her his most honest smile, his free hand reaching out to brush the wet, tangled strands of her hair from the side of her face and from before her eyes. "We live and the world goes on. I know it's not much, but I swear I'll make sure it's enough. For both of us."

Jaheira managed a slight smile, even as the torrents of rain continued to cover them, small streams of water running down both their faces. Whether by the continual turmoil she was entrapped in or uncomfortable by their close proximity she finally pulled away, heading back below deck. She did, however, stop briefly to turn and whisper a thank you, leaving a confused, uncertain, and totally soaked sorcerer alone, watching her depart in the fading light and the intensifying rain of the evening.

X X X X X X X X

Three more days passed on board that ship, each one bringing them closer to their destination. They had seen little more than ocean for that time, though an island now and then would make itself visible in the distance. Havarian spent little more time interacting with the party, whether by embarrassment with his slip with Jaheira or ensuring that they kept on course, most if not all of his time was spent at the wheel. Jaheira had barely been seen since that first night, mostly below deck in the cabins, her door closed. Both Minsc and Greywulf had made attempts to speak with her, but they were met with little response. Greywulf replayed the last time he had made a trek down there, knocking on the door. At least she had replied, though her insisting that she was 'fine' and didn't need to speak with anyone was obviously a lie.

Turning the corner of the boat to head back up to the stern, he caught a glimpse of Yoshimo showing Minsc and Aerie different sword techniques from Kara-Tur while Keldorn looked on, tossing off hand statements and advice to the elf and ranger as he watched. Greywulf joined them, even as Minsc's swing nearly took Yoshimo off at the waist.

"How is she feeling?" Keldorn murmured, turning to Greywulf. There was no need to specify which 'she' he was talking about; there could be only one.

"Not so well." Greywulf said, saying little. Though he trusted Keldorn, Jaheira and Greywulf had developed a special bond, and he was hesitant to risk it by telling too much of what she poured out to him.

"Ahh. You need say no more, if you do not wish. I would not want to harm your relationship with her, whatever that may be." Keldorn said, a hint of a smile at his mouth.

"Er... what exactly does that imply?" Greywulf inquired, unsure of his meaning.

"Come now, son. The next winter I see will be my sixtieth. I have been around quite long enough to see when a man is smitten with a lass."

Greywulf turned red, partially because of embarrassment, partially because of surprise. "I'm still not sure what you mean."

"As you wish." Keldorn said, shrugging. "If you so desire, since it seems to be the popular event of the moment, we could continue your weapons training now. I believe I still owe you… what, two more lessons?"

"Something like that." Greywulf said, glad to change the subject as they moved to an area of the deck that was more open and easier to maneuver in.

They sparred for an hour or so, drawing a few glances from the occasional passerby, but most left them in peace. Greywulf felt more confident this time around, though he was still outmatched by the paladin in most if not all respects. He circled the older man, eyeing him for a weakness. Keldorn returned the gaze, steel in his eyes. The paladin feinted a lunge, then came down across his left side, a bit further out than he probably intended to. Greywulf dodged, and then moved in for the counterattack. To his surprise, Keldorn did not move to block, only seemed to brace his footing. The ship suddenly came down from the large wave it had hit, tilting the ship just enough to send Greywulf off balance for a second. Still, it was enough for Keldorn's sword to send Greywulf's staff flying once more, rolling over against a pile of crates.

"Be mindful of your surroundings." Keldorn admonished to the mage. "As you noticed from both here and your battle with Tazok, a fight can hinge on who makes the best use of their environment. But, eh... my old bones grow weary. You've scored a number of hits on me already, and I think you've improved much since our last session. Well done."

"All right, lads and lasses! Brynnlaw awaits us, and we will be docking shortly. I suggest you all make ready!" Saemon Havarian's voice echoed across the boat, interrupting the two. Greywulf nodded to Keldorn as he headed back down below deck to make ready, while Greywulf turned to retrieve his staff. From seemingly nowhere, his weapon came flying at him, Greywulf catching it in surprise. Yoshimo stood by the rum crates it had been laying by, shooting him a grin. The sorcerer shook his head wryly, then followed Keldorn below deck, leaving Yoshimo alone up top... he waited until they were both out of sight, then turned back to the crates, ducking into the small alcove nearby and looking at the two drunken men. "Now... what were you saying before? Who did you see?"

"Don... don't know." one man said with a hiccup, clutching a bottle of rum with several others littered beside him. "Me'n... me and him, we saw some... some guy, come up with the anchor. don't remember after that... woke up here with the rum; had a party of our own! We thar yet?"

"Weird looking fella... blue hair!" the second man thought it was quite humorous, laughing hysterically between hiccups. "Blue hair... blue hair!!"

The description was more than enough to identify their assailant for Yoshimo; he grabbed the laughing man by the collar and shook him, getting his attention. "Where is he? What did he say?!"

"I don'... don't remember." the man slurred, rapidly disappearing into unconsciousness again. "Said... said something about a hound. Gonna kill him a hound... heehee... kill him a hound."

Even as he finally collapsed, Yoshimo stood, glancing behind him. There was no lurking shadow, no vengeful bard leaping out at him from nowhere, but he moved to the front of the boat where Saemon was still in sight nonetheless. Looking out into the distance, there grew the shape of a large castle built into the side of the mountain. Its spires surged upwards to vicious looking points, and the old stones which composed the building seemed to be rotting and decaying. Its appearance was more like a place of death than anything else, but they knew what lurked beneath, and were hoping against hope to find what they desired. It was not long before the ship docked, secured to the port of Brynnlaw. They had arrived... and for some reason, the world was a much darker, colder place for Yoshimo.


	48. Part 2: Tempered by Trust

Betrayal. One simple word, though unarguably complex in itself. An odd word, or rather an odd concept. Not because of difficulty in defining it, or difficulty in believing it as a possibility; more so that it was hard to understand. So many facets, so many avenues of this small yet crushing act that plagued its victims.

What causes a betrayal? Why does one commit such a fiendish act? The obvious reasons are always tossed out flippantly, such as gold, power, self-preservation... but there's always something deeper than that. Or that's what Greywulf wanted to believe as he swung his quarterstaff downwards in a desperate block, fending off the swing of a vampire on the streets of Brynnlaw. Saemon Havarian had already vanished, only appearing briefly after they had left the ship to inform them of his betrayal and, in fact, to lead them into the ambush they were fighting off at the moment.

Not, of course, that Greywulf had really trusted Havarian in the first place. But to know that even Aran's own ship's captain could be bought for whatever price Saemon demanded, gave Greywulf all the more reason to fear. That was the problem with betrayal... it was so easily avoided, and yet to avoid it required a sacrifice of great import. Trust. Without trust, there could be no betrayal. Yet without trust, there could also be no love. No understanding. None of what made them different from some of the monsters they fought. If that meant getting burned every now and then... well, that was an acceptable loss.

Still, it wasn't exactly a welcome feeling either. _"This was not my intention at all, but one must do what good business dictates. You will recognize those that face you now. I do hope they make short work of this encounter; I have no tolerance for violence, really." _

Saemon's parting words rung harsh but true in the ears of those whom he had turned on, even as another pair of vampires appeared from seemingly nowhere, lashing out from the darkness in the back alleys of the island. Good business, he had said; just another transaction for Havarian, it seemed. Imoen's life meant nothing... their lives were no better. The fury rose within... perhaps not at the act but at being fooled once more. It had happened so often in the past, it should have been expected by now. Betrayed by Xzar and Montaron. Betrayed by Aran Linvail. Betrayed by 'friends' in Candlekeep. Betrayed by Harpers in Athkatla. Treachery at every turn... and somehow they kept on trusting. Kept on handing their lives to others in hopes of their honesty. A half-shout, half-growl issued from Greywulf's throat as a blast of fire immolated one vampire, seconds before its claws would have reached his throat.

Their numbers were thinning, though their essences retreated as their bodies fell, leaving no true impact in the end. And if these vampires were here, Bodhi was undoubtedly on the island as well. And Irenicus was undoubtedly aware of their presence, just as he was undoubtedly aware of their plans. With Saemon among their group, it might as well have been Irenicus standing right there listening to them speak. It was getting old, getting tiresome, and getting more than a little annoying... a flash of movement in his peripheral vision caught the last of the vampires slashing out at him, though a sword swing from Minsc caught it before it could actually hit him.

He breathed a sigh of both exhaustion and relief as he nodded in gratitude to the ranger, leaning heavily on his quarterstaff. Minsc moved closer to Greywulf, his eyes still furtively glancing about in case any more vampires were about, though it appeared as though the threat were over. "Are you well? You were not injured in battle, were you?"

He met Minsc's concerned gaze and query, shaking his head no. "Just tired, that's all... in more ways than one. I'll be fine come the morn; we should find an inn and get off the streets before Saemon brings more vampires down on us."

Nobody was really fit enough to argue or had any objections, so they set off through the streets, quickly spotting one of the inns that housed the sailors and infrequent traders of the island. The rancor in the crowd was not as loud or inhospitable as the Coronet, though the patrons might have been surlier, if that was even possible. Yoshimo glanced over his shoulder as Greywulf paid the man at the bar for the trio of rooms they were purchasing for the night, though his glance did not go unnoticed by Minsc. The ranger looked as well, and then turned back to Yoshimo. "A wise decision, Yoshimo... we cannot let anyone sneak up on us while we are still looking for Imoen!"

"Indeed... though I more wonder if we mightn't find Saemon Havarian and persuade him to inform us of how best to enter the asylum. It is no secret that this Spellhold is not an easy place to gain access to, but of more import and secrecy is the means of such entry. Should Irenicus be aware of our presence, we must be cautious."

"With that spell stone of his, he could be anywhere by now." Greywulf sighed, striding over to one of the unoccupied tables, one of the few large enough to accommodate their full party. A waitress brought a tray of ales for the party, each one remaining quiet for a time as they nursed on their drinks. It was a bit strange, truly. For nearly four months they had been pushing onward, their objective fully in mind and in sight. Now, so close... and with no idea how to go further. A vision of Imoen in Irenicus' tortures passed through Greywulf's mind again, his hands shaking involuntarily, nearly spilling his drink. Aerie noticed, one of her pale hands reached out to steady him, her eyes meeting his with concern in them. "Greywulf... you don't look well at all. A night's rest would surely do you good."

"I agree... one more night of waiting will not hinder our plans, nor will it give Irenicus any advantage he does not possess tonight. We can investigate possible entrances to Spellhold in the morning. Get some rest. Both of you, I might add." Keldorn said, a stern tone that brooked no argument in his voice.

Jaheira glanced up, as though for the first time hearing anything that had been said. Her brow furrowed at the order from the paladin, but to everyone's surprise, she simply nodded and stood from the table, heading towards the staircase without speaking. Greywulf sighed and smiled a good-bye to the group downstairs before following, heading up to his room as well. Keldorn watched them as though to make sure they were actually doing what they seemed, then turned back to the others. "With all respect to your company, I do believe I shall follow suit. Our quest draws near to a close... who knows when we might get another chance for a full night's rest. Lady Aerie... gentlemen."

Keldorn finished the rest of his ale before leaving the table with just the bounty hunter, the elf and the ranger. Yoshimo, in turn, watched until Keldorn had entered his room, then turned to the other two with a grin. "Ah... now that the responsible folk are off to bed, shall we begin?"

"Begin?" Aerie frowned in confusion. "What do you mean?"

"Our adventure, of course." Yoshimo shrugged. "Time is of the essence... we all know this. Saemon grows ever farther away, and Keldorn wishes us to sleep? I think not; he speaks to a bounty hunter and a fine one at that. With any luck, I may pick up Havarian's trail tonight, and we can be on our way into Spellhold in the morning."

"Why didn't you tell the others about this while they were downstairs?" Aerie questioned, her voice betraying a hint of hesitation.

"They would have called it too risky... a needless danger in an unknown place." Yoshimo sighed. "Caution is well and fine, but risks must be taken. Surely you do not fear what this island has to offer, do you?"

"Well... no, I just think it would be best if we had the others-"

"Very well... if you are too afraid to face what lies beyond these inn walls without Greywulf and the others, I shall travel solo. Perhaps it is for the best-"

"I... oh no you aren't!" Aerie huffed, her face flushing red with indignation. "You are not traveling through this island alone, and I am not afraid to come with you! If you want to find Saemon tonight, you'll do it with me as well."

Yoshimo raised his hands in defeat, though a hint of a smile could be caught at his mouth. "I concede. And you, Minsc?"

"Minsc can track just as well as anyone." the ranger nodded. "And his witch! Let it not be said that Minsc would leave his witch alone in a dark and spooky island of pirates."

"Perfect!" Yoshimo nodded, slamming his mug down with approval. "Then let us be off... the hunt has begun."

X X X X X X X

A dark throbbing in the back of his mind kept him awake, robbing him of any sleep he might otherwise have enjoyed. Not that he didn't need it, but it just wasn't coming. Too much on his mind, too many scenarios and thoughts rushing through his head. The sorcerer sat alone in his room, perched on the foot of his bed, his hands on his lap as he stared at nothing in particular, letting the mental flood that threatened to overwhelm him dissipate. So many possibilities... Imoen so near to them, and yet to seek her out would undoubtedly lead them into a trap. To stand by would accomplish nothing, and to move forward could mean the death of everyone around him.

Greywulf tore himself from the bed, standing and stumbling to the opposite side of the room, leaning against the wall, his head down as he tried to calm himself. So much depended on his decisions... so much responsibility. He looked up for a brief moment, catching a glimpse of himself in the mirror, suppressing a small chuckle as he did so. His hair was tangled and matted, flattened and on end from his aborted attempts to rest. Dark circles lined his eyes, and he felt almost as bad as he looked. How long had it been since he had slept last? At least thirty-six hours... he leaned back again, though as his head rested against the wall, a familiar sound caught his ear, just barely penetrating the walls to his hearing. It sounded like that of stone scraping against stone; a familiar sharpening tone he had heard many a night since traveling with the druid in the next room. He was fully prepared to ignore it and try and head back to bed, but... maybe she could use some company? No, it would it best to get some rest.

Greywulf moved away from the wall, sitting back down on the thin mattress and throwing himself back onto the bed in a vain attempt to get some comfort from the strife that plagued his waking hours- the sound of familiar cursing, much louder than the sharpening he had caught earlier came to him, throwing him to his feet again. He waited for a moment, his senses suddenly alert in case they were under attack; nothing else was forthcoming, no minions or orcs bursting into the room with swords raised. Probably nothing more than a splinter or a mistake in the sharpening process; it was nothing. He should head back to bed...

A sharp rap at his door caught him by surprise; he glanced over at the wooden portal, sighing out of sheer exhaustion more than anything else. Pushing himself up, he made his way over to the door, slowly opening it. He frowned; there was nobody out there, though a brief flicker of movement at the corner of his eye caught Jaheira and Aerie's door closing. He blinked once and then stepped out, wrapping his cloak around him before treading over to their door. He had already raised his own hand to knock in response, but suddenly hesitated; was it really the right time? Surely whatever it was could wait till morning if whoever it was had left his door so soon after knocking. Still, somewhere inside him remained that stubborn streak that had led him through both good times and bad, and he refused to let the matter rest so easily. Rapping on the door with his knuckles, he stepped back and waited for a response. A shuffle of movement could be heard from behind the door, and it opened in a second or two to reveal a casually dressed Jaheira, clad in a simple brown cloth tunic and leather stitched leggings. "Yes?"

"I hope I didn't bother you, but I... eh, I thought I heard a knock on my door, and when I checked I saw your door closing." Greywulf said, slowly trailing off as he realized how odd it sounded. "I'm sorry, I'll let you get back to sleep-"

"No! No... I, you are not bothering me at all. I did knock... though I feared I had awoken you. I was simply looking for some armor polish... I thought perhaps Minsc might have had some in his pack."

"He hasn't arrived back yet... he must still be down at the bar with the others." Greywulf said, smiling apologetically. "I wasn't asleep yet either... not for lack of trying."

She stepped back, gesturing for him to enter. He did, following her over to a table where her armor was laying alongside several tools for removing the dents and repairing the tears it had received through their travels. Her spear was sitting off to the side within easy reach, and the tools she used for sharpening it were still laid out on the table there before him. He seated himself across from her, the druid pulling back her chair to sit, though it was only then that he noticed the bloodstained cloth wrapped around one of her palms. He frowned, catching her glance. "What happened?"

She glanced at her hand for a moment after he pointed it out, and then shrugged it off. "Nothing... it is just a small cut. It will be fine in the morning."

"Seems like a good night's rest would benefit us all." he noted. She nodded, but her eyes slowly drifted downward, away from his. He considered how uncomfortable this must be for her... how much she was still struggling with her departure from the Harpers. It touched everything about her, weighed her down in all aspects. His presence here could do little for her... "I heard you cursing a minute ago; was that it? Your hand, I mean?"

She snorted lightly, then nodded. "Yes... I lost focus for a moment while I was sharpening. Silvanus knows my armor could use some smithing as well, though I fear it will be some time before we reach Athkatla again."

She ran one hand over her hair, brushing a few of the braids out of the way, though her brow furrowed as she saw a trickle of blood seeping out from the cloth, running down the length of her bare arm. Greywulf leaned forward with alarm, as her other hand darted across the table and grabbed a ragged piece of cloth she had been tearing strips off of for cleaning, tearing one more off as she moved to change the dressing. "Jaheira, how serious is that-"

"It is nothing-" her insistence was quieted as he leaned over and untied the original dressing, revealing a jagged gash that ran across her palm, cutting deeper than he had guessed. She bit her lip in pain even as he whispered a curse, grabbing the whole rest of the cloth and trying to wipe away the rest of the blood so he could see the full extent of the wound. He glanced over at the stone she had been using to sharpen; one side was stained red, up to an inch on the rock. He looked up at her with grim eyes, though she maintained stubborn silence as the two of them tried to keep pressure on her palm while he prepared another cloth strip to be used. As soon as the wound was slowed for the moment, Greywulf felt along his robe, then procured a small vial, handing it to her. She shook her head, drawing back. "It is not important enough to waste a healing potion on-"

"It'll heal faster. Drink it." he insisted, continuing to hold it out.

"I don't need it-"

"Dammit, just drink it, okay? Stop being such a damned loner and so above it all and let me actually help you without a load of your stubborn attitude for once!" he shouted, much louder and harsher than he had wanted to.

His face fell quickly, as though ashamed at his outburst. He dropped his gaze, murmuring an apology, but he looked up in surprise as he felt her take the vial from him, then down it easily. She shook her head gently as he tried to apologize, but both were interrupted by a soft sparkle of magic thrumming and taking effect that came from her hand. She raised it, gently uncovering the wound, which was now all but vanished. She dropped her hand, flexing it once, then gazed up at Greywulf. "Thank you. For everything; back there on the ship, here, now..."

"Jaheira... you know I didn't mean-"

"Quit trying to apologize, you idiot." she said with a scowl. "You won, now accept it. You succeeded in making me forget my troubles for a moment, and even made me depend on someone else. Be content with it and stop trying to screw it up."

He quieted, though perhaps more out of surprise than anything else. She sighed, noting his bewildered look, then turned away from him partially. "Do not get me wrong... you have done much for making me feel better... even though I am still far from my old self. You have put up with much from me, most of which was undeserved."

"You've done as much and more for me... I don't know how I could have gotten this far alone." he replied, slowly settling with her as they sat together. "I just... I worry about all of you. I worry that I'm going to make the wrong decision and you're the ones who'll pay for it."

"That's the risk we took when we decided to follow you. It is not a decision I, or any of us, have made lightly. We would not have made it if we did not trust you. And I..." Jaheira offered, crossing her arms in front of her as she stretched, bowing her head. "I... I want to trust you. Believe me when I say that."

She abruptly quieted, saying no more. Greywulf waited, expecting her to say more, but after those moments of silence, he nodded, smiling weakly. "I understand. I think you're allowed a bit of doubt after all I've done. I won't hold it against you."

She looked up again and met his gaze, then smiled wryly. "You look like death warmed over, Greywulf... get some rest. Keldorn will have your hide if he finds you awake still."

"Aye, he will at that." Greywulf chuckled, realizing again just how dead tired he still felt. "I'll see you in the morning. Good night, Jaheira."

"Good night, Greywulf."

He left the room, leaving her alone once more. She exhaled deeply, standing from her chair and slowly trudging over to the bed, slipping her bracers and boots off before lying down fully. In many ways she was glad he had come to her; the story she had made up about borrowing Minsc's armor polish was nothing more than a bald-faced lie and he probably knew it, but the man was just too damned nice to pry into it. Too nice to pressure her to why she had been so desperate to speak to him of all people. He occupied her thoughts more and more these days, and it tore her spirit terribly. On the one hand, the truth of what he was could not be escaped: he was a Bhaalspawn, he was a danger, and his taint was slowly growing stronger. Her decision to stay with him caused her to lose not only Khalid, but the Harpers as well. He might very well become worse than Sarevok in the end, and fulfill the prophecies of blood that haunted her thoughts as druid and once as Harper. He was quite possibly the greatest mistake of her life... and more.

He was her closest friend; he was the one whom she would follow into battle as both companion and leader, the one who would never give up on her despite the numerous reasons she had given him to do so... and he was the one who wanted more from her, thought it was possible for them to be more, had she allowed it. It was not an option, that kind of relationship... but for just a brief moment, she had allowed herself to consider it. And in that moment, she had been scared. She had shut it away, hidden it far from the surface of her consciousness, unwilling to give it the briefest consideration. Still, every time they spoke, every time she opened up to let him in... it was too much. He would never impose himself, never force any kind of decision on her, and she was glad for it. A balancing act of keeping him at a distance while needing him close all at once. It couldn't last; one day she would have to make a decision, on just whether she could trust him fully or not. But until then... balance was what she was good at.

X X X X X X X

The world of magic lay open before him, the mists of power and life and death all flowing through his vision and through his psyche as he imposed his will on the currents of magic, currents that threatened to overwhelm anyone whose will and power was not sufficient. He was more than capable; bending the magic to his own purposes was child's play as he sought the familiar touch of the Bhaalspawn, the one he had felt before and had within his grasp... there. Irenicus sat alone, meditating in the laboratory chamber of Spellhold, a grim smile on his face as he let his eyes drift open, the feel of Greywulf's presence rippling through his mind.

The man's exhaustion and fatigue were palpable; it was almost too easy to invade his thoughts and search through his mind unnoticed. Normally an intrusion of this sort would be picked up on immediately, even though the man was sleeping. But Irenicus had caught him at the worst time, both mentally and physically drained. Vulnerable. The perfect time to strike. He could not afford to let the Bhaalspawn regain his wits and his strength; not that it would make much of a difference in the end, but even Irenicus held some measure of respect for the powers Greywulf commanded. He had not survived the hunts of Sarevok Anchev for no reason. Slowly and methodically, he sifted through the plans that were close enough to the surface of Greywulf's mind to read, then pulled away, unwilling to risk further probing for fear of alerting him.

He stood and took in the progress that had been accomplished around him; almost every tube in the room was occupied, filled with a prisoner that had been gathered in one way or another. Still, the main glass chamber in the center of the room was unoccupied, the stone below it black and burnt from Imoen's procedure. Imoen... the corners of his mouth drifted upward as he thought of her procedure, and how soon his own would take place. A dark presence slunk to his side, revealing itself fully as Bodhi rested one hand on his shoulder. "Brother... my scouts have been sent and all has passed as you foresaw. They were dispatched, but we know Greywulf is here."

"I have sensed him as well; he will arrive tomorrow, and I will be ready." Irenicus vowed, his fist tightening as anticipation flooded his body. So close now... so close.

Imoen sat alone in her cell still, scarcely having moved since Bodhi and Irenicus had seen her last. Her mind still fractured by Bodhi's assault on her psyche, she was in no better condition. However, a few moments ago she had felt a ripple travel through the magical world, touching her. For the briefest moment, that ripple connected two parts of her mind, enough for the thought, _Greywulf_, to be thrown into her wandering thoughts. The touch ended abruptly as it had begun, but that name stuck in her consciousness, knowing that the name carried some import, but what it was she could not remember. All she knew was that something of vast importance was about to happen… something great and terrible.

X X X X X X X

Aerie suppressed an involuntary shiver as she tried her best to see through the incoming fog on the docks of the port of Brynnlaw, the only light coming from the oil lamps posted every dozen feet or so. Yoshimo had brought them from tavern to warehouse to bar and docks, each time scouring the area and bribing barkeeps, doing everything possible to track down Saemon Havarian. She wasn't quite certain what they would do when they caught up to him, but knowing Minsc, it probably wouldn't be pretty. At least, she reflected, they should get some information before Minsc went about his business on the swashbuckler's health.

As much as she was unwilling to look weak before any of the party, she would much rather have been back at the inn and in bed. The cool of the night was at its peak, and there had really been little for either Minsc or herself to do, rather than look imposing. And obviously, Minsc fit that position much better than she. He had no cause to do any sort of tracking for Yoshimo, who seemed to know exactly where they were headed. Apparently Saemon was quite the well known, for good or ill, figure around the town; Yoshimo had no end of leads trying to find his whereabouts.

Yoshimo was currently speaking with a dock hand, not-so-subtly slipping him a few gold pieces as the two exchanged hushed words, the sailor pointing out a direction off back towards the town center. Yoshimo kept speaking, moving in closer, obviously unsatisfied. A few more gold pieces and the man pointed a new direction, this one more to the bounty hunter's liking. He nodded, then stalked back over to Minsc and Aerie, exhaling deeply. "It would seem we are close; our good captain has quite the network of allies in this town, but gold can loosen the tongue of many a so-called friend. I have a good idea as to where the man might be found... though it might be prudent for me to approach him alone. Seeing three of us might give him the distinct impression we mean to harm him."

"We're not?"

Yoshimo chuckled, then sighed. "I doubt he will be inclined to aid us if we offer him nothing in return for his cooperation. I presume that maintaining bodily health will be incentive enough. Still, if he flees upon our sighting of him, we will accomplish nothing. Let me approach him first, and I will relay his words."

"Are you certain? I would think we'd all need to be there-"

"Surely you trust me, Aerie?" Yoshimo asked, effecting a hurt expression. "Believe me, I must do this alone. Wait for me outside. Now hurry; we have little time."

He gave no time for further discussion as he darted back through the streets of Brynnlaw, Minsc and Aerie barely keeping up with him. Aerie's mind churned as she watched his form from behind, inwardly disagreeing with much of their decisions so far, yet finding no obvious fault in them. Something was off, though perhaps it was just her discomfort with such secrecy and stealthy activities. Minsc was content enough to trust Yoshimo's decisions, she noted as they finally arrived at a warehouse on the far edge of the port, Yoshimo motioning for silence as they crept up closer. He glanced at them, flashed his grin, then slipped inside. Not that she had a choice now, she reflected. For good or ill, Yoshimo held much of their fate; she would simply have to trust him.

Yoshimo's footsteps echoed as he walked across the stone floor, glancing back and forth. His head throbbed with pain as he moved, each step a burden as he attempted to finish his task, to end the torment, both physical and emotional. They trusted him. Damn them both, neither Minsc or Aerie could see through his weak excuses and flimsy actions like Keldorn or Jaheira or even Greywulf would. He could never have pulled this off were either of the other three with him. True enough, this was a place Saemon could be found regularly... but it was also where they had arranged to meet. Plans had to be finalized, knowledge had to be 'gained', and such... the captain should be waiting for him somewhere in the room-

_"Looking for the good captain, hound?"_

The voice he heard chilled his bones; Yoshimo's hands dropped to his katanas in an instant and drew them, the bounty hunter spinning in place, looking for the source of the voice he had heard.

_"Why Yoshimo, you seem rather on edge. Why is that? That Geas still gnawing at your soul? The guilt eating away at you? How appropriate."_

"Where are you?" Yoshimo spat, his eyes darting back and forth as he searched with all his might, determined to avoid being taken by surprise. "Show yourself!"

_"You'd like that, wouldn't you? This sparrow takes flight, to have his wings clipped once more. I think not." _The voice died down for a moment, but returned with a chuckle. "_Oh, if you're worrying about Mr. Havarian, he's quite all right. In quite a fine slumber, thanks to a spell or two, but otherwise unharmed. You, my dear parrot, I cannot say the same for."_

"Do you intend to try and kill me?" Yoshimo hissed. "Come and face me then... unless you fear the challenge."

The chuckle blossomed to a laugh, as Haer'Dalis stepped out from seemingly nowhere, both of his blades drawn as he glanced at Yoshimo meaningfully. "Hardly. I simply do not feel the urge to kill you. Yet."

Yoshimo faced Haer'Dalis, planting his feet firmly with great suspicion as the bard remained still, nonchalance covering his face. "What then, do you intend by this confrontation? An appeal to my better nature? You will find my Geas to carry more power than that."

"Oh no... I am not quite as empathetic as others might be." Haer'Dalis smirked. "I find the chaos of your situation most intriguing. How do you intend to fulfill your duty? Will you attempt to kill the scatter-brained hound and the mourning dove as you attempted to kill me? Of more interest, how will you explain your deeds to the raven? I simply cannot wait to see how you squirm."

"Rather cruel of you; were you indwelt with any mercy you would end my torture now." Yoshimo growled. "Will we continue to vocally spar or will one of us meet our end here?"

"As I said... not just yet." Haer'Dalis shook one finger, stepping back into the shadows. "Go about your business, parrot. Lead those who trust you into ruin. Know that I am watching... and though I have granted you a momentary reprieve from my vengeance, it will come. Remember that."

Yoshimo could take it no longer- he darted forward, directly into the shadows Haer'Dalis had slipped into... to find nothing. No, that was not entirely true; in the far corner, sprawled out over a chair was the sleeping form of Saemon Havarian. Above him was a skylight that was hanging open, and the very end of a rope had just disappeared from the opening. Yoshimo watched it disappear, his mouth suddenly dry. A wildcard like Haer-Dalis could throw everything off; only time would tell. And time, Yoshimo reflected angrily as he woke Saemon up, was in short supply.


	49. Part 2: Darkness Reigns

Minsc took a step closer to his charge as the three of them stepped through the darkened halls of the asylum, their footsteps echoing through the narrow corridor. A scream of either agony or insanity... perhaps both, reverberated down towards them as they kept moving, trying to avoid notice by the residents of this forsaken place. Minsc glanced down at the other two with him; Aerie was doing her best to avoid showing how this place affected her, while Yoshimo's face was inscrutable as always. The inhabitants of the asylum were dangerous, even if kept under lock and key. And yet, if what Saemon had told them last night was true, Irenicus would never see them coming.

If. Minsc's grip on the Sword of Chaos tightened as he thought of the rogue captain, and his betrayal of the group. Still, he had obeyed Yoshimo's directions last night and kept out of their encounter; Saemon had apparently given Yoshimo all the direction needed for them to infiltrate the asylum. A quick visit with the Pirate Lord of the island, Desharik, had gained them access. Desharik was in charge of sending people to the asylum for treatment; Minsc wasn't quite sure how they would get in that way, but after a quick chat with the fellow, he let them right in. A series of caverns at the base of the asylum led right into the cell blocks, giving them an advantage Irenicus would not be expecting. He was a nice enough man, even if he was a 'Pirate Lord'. Minsc had taken note of the fact that he had no hook for a hand, nor a parrot on his shoulder; perhaps he had lost them somewhere. Taking a moment to point that out in their discussion, along with an introduction to Boo, had surely impressed the man; perhaps that was why he sent them to the cell blocks of Spellhold so quickly.

Of course, all this subtlety wasn't exactly Minsc's style; he would much rather have went with Greywulf and the others, taking the direct route. Apparently the Cowled Wizards had a representative on the island who possessed the wardstone for the front gates. Keldorn, Jaheira, and Greywulf had headed to his residence in an attempt to 'persuade' him to relinquish the stone. A direct assault against the front gates might be unexpected to Irenicus... or it might give Minsc, Aerie, and Yoshimo the diversion they needed to gain an edge on the mage. Either way, Minsc could feel what he had been waiting for ever since that fateful night in the madman's laboratory. Memories of the golems brutally killing Dynaheir flashed through his mind, her fading cries as she took her last breath... vengeance for Dynaheir was coming, and it would be swift.

A quick whisper from Yoshimo caught his attention; Minsc glanced over to where the bounty hunter was pointing. Reaching out with one hand to hold Aerie behind him, Minsc crept forward; peeking around a corner to spy... a dwarf was whistling an odd tune as he traversed the dank halls, a small set of keys jingling at his belt. Yoshimo shook his head as Minsc began to raise his sword, but then motioned toward the door beyond him. Minsc nodded, quickly moving aside for Aerie to step forward. The cleric-mage whispered a few incantations, letting her magic trickle over them, shielding them from human sight. Yoshimo crept outward, deftly plucking the keys from the dwarf with all the skill of an experienced thief. The dwarf kept right on moving, still oblivious to the theft. The cloaked group returned to the rows of cells they had passed previously, their invisibility quickly wearing off. They halted at the first row of holding pens, Yoshimo glancing up at the ranger as he handed him the key ring.

"Quickly now... the two of you must find Imoen and release her. Irenicus must not have any tools to bargain with when we encounter him... I will sneak upstairs and see if the others have arrived yet."

"That's too dangerous!" Aerie whispered. "What if you get caught?"

"Aerie, please trust me on this. I know what I must do... we all have our jobs and I shall do mine." Yoshimo said with a nod.

"Worry not." Minsc declared, tucking the keys away. "As soon as we have found Imoen, we will join you and aid in the defeat of this vile wizard!"

Yoshimo flashed a grin, then shook Minsc's outstretched hand. "Good luck, my friends." He leaned over and embraced Aerie once, then darted off the way the dwarf had gone, disappearing into the shadows quickly. Aerie and Minsc exchanged a grave nod, and then went from cell to cell, searching for their comrade. Aerie glanced in each one, shuddering at the tortured looks and expressions on those who resided within. A small girl, scarce older than ten or eleven, hair brown and hanging down to her back and a few scars lining her cheeks stood there in one of the first cells they passed, staring at the two of them as they walked on by. Even as she watched Aerie move, her eyes widened with... something. Approval, insanity, hope: anything could be interpreted from the look given to Aerie. She shambled over to the cell door, the shimmering wall of magic that enclosed her allowing sight but no touch. She spoke, her voice tinny and high-pitched... but hollow, somehow. "Hi!"

Minsc had taken notice, slowing down and returning to Aerie's side as the elf knelt down beside the young child. "Hello there... who are you?"

"I'm Dili. Who are you?" the girl said, her face twisting into a lopsided smile, which, worryingly enough, was quite unnatural on her face.

"I'm Aerie. This is my friend Minsc... we're here to find another friend of ours." Aerie said hesitantly, glancing up at Minsc for any ideas. "Do you know her? She's got pink hair, and is named Imoen-"

At the name, Dili took a step backward, her face scrunching up. "I don't like her. She scares me... she never plays either! You want to play, right? I'll be you, and you can be me!"

With a flash of magic, the girl's form vanished and was replaced by... Aerie. Aerie gasped in surprise and almost fell backward from her crouched position, as an exact duplicate of herself stood enclosed in the magical cell. "Isn't this fun? I have a new face every day..."

"You take... other people's faces?" Aerie asked hesitantly. "Is that why you're here, in Spellhold?"

Dili-Aerie's eyes dropped, her face heartbreaking with the anguish in her expression. "Nobody wanted me. Everyone said I was too scary. Too weird. Threw me out of my home, away from my family."

Aerie was about to say something comforting, but Dili-Aerie's gaze came back up, this time with a look of unmistakable insanity. "But I got even... I got even, I did. No one to throw me out when they're all dead. Daddy and mommy first, so I could take their faces and no one would know. The man who lived next door… he almost found out. But I got him before he could tell. Nobody to tell when everyone was dead. Once they were gone, I could take all the faces I wanted and nobody cared! Everyone was mine... all my faces, whenever I wanted. Mommy, daddy, doggy... all mine to take."

Aerie tried to hide her shock, the girl's twisted smile finally fading to a tinge of sadness again. "But then the men in cowls found me. Brought me here. It's... it's not so bad. They let me take faces whenever I want."

Abruptly brightening again, the girl scooted up against the magic wall and pressed her hands against it, staring at Aerie. "I like yours better than the other ones I usually take. I'll be... I'll be your big friend tomorrow, okay? And... and then I'll be you again. Your face is pretty... prettier than the new man who keeps us here. He scares me..."

"A new man? Who is it? Who scares the little child?" Minsc asked quietly, glancing back and forth to ensure they were still safe.

"Is it... Irenicus?" Aerie asked, but the child immediately warped back to her previous form, horror crossing her features as she screeched in fury. "No! Ireni... Leave me alone! Go away! You aren't any fun... go away!!"

Fearful that her shrieks would alert someone to their presence, the two quickly moved on, leaving her vision as she curled up in a corner, holding a ratty teddy bear tightly. Aerie exhaled deeply, renewing her determination as they continued their search. Cell after cell passed them as they went, each one containing an inmate of different size and shape. A nasal cackle caught their attention on the other side of the hall, Minsc frowning as he gazed at the inhabitant of the cell. On a child's high chair sat a gnome with what could only be described as a mad grin plastered over his face, his short beard filled with crumbs and other unknown food substances. He held what looked like a broken mop handle in one hand and wore a flimsily fashioned hat made out of paper, one that was... possibly designed to be a crown, though that was debatable. He had apparently once been confined in a straitjacket, though its purpose was long defeated, instead serving as an extremely oversized shirt, the sleeves dangling long past his hands. He sneered at the two as they stopped, his cackle sending him rocking back and forth on the chair again. "Ha! More servants for the chosen one of Cyric. Kneel before the great Tiax!"

"Minsc remembers this gnome." the ranger noted, Aerie looking up at Minsc in mild surprise. "He was in Baldur's Gate... he was not a nice fellow. Minsc had to threaten him before he would leave us alone."

"You! You are but grease for the wheels of his rule! Silence the squeaking of those that protest! He rules all! Cyric has chosen Tiax to rule!" Tiax ranted, shouting at the two outside his cell. "What do you want from the great Lord Tiax? Must he unleash his mighty fury upon thee?"

"Um... great Tiax?" Aerie said in a small voice, hoping to quiet the gnome. Greywulf had once mentioned the gnome to her in his tales of former experiences near Baldur's Gate; there was no getting around his madness, but using it against him, she recalled, worked quite well. "Do you... do you know where we can find one named Imoen?"

"Tiax knows who you speak of." he sniffed, twirling one sleeve as he tapped his mop handle against his head. "Why should Tiax aid the likes of you?"

"So... so we can convert her to your worship?" Aerie offered, hoping his insanity was deep enough to cover the poor lie. Apparently it was; Tiax beamed, then mumbled some directions, to which the two of them took gratefully, quickly darting down the halls, passing prisoner after prisoner until... "Imoen!"

Minsc's booming echo of both joy and shock stopped them both; Minsc's palms were pressed up against the magic wall as he stared inside at a lone figure, small and curled up, sitting in the corner with her arms tucked around her legs. Her pink hair was longer than usual, covering half her face as she rocked back and forth slowly, her whole body trembling. One eye was visible, though it was fuzzy and unfocused. "Imoen!" Minsc tried again, this time gathering her attention. Imoen glanced up at Minsc for the slightest of moments... then looked back down, her mouth forming small words that could not be heard or made out.

"What... what happened to her?" Aerie asked in horror. "She... she wasn't like this before-"

"No." Minsc growled, his body trembling with righteous fury. "Irenicus... he kills Khalid, kills Dynaheir, and hurts Imoen!! AAARGHH! Minsc will rain terrible fury on his bloody head for this!"

Aerie took the keys from Minsc and quickly began trying each one in the lock beside the magical wall, discarding each one that failed. Aerie pushed the last one in, turning... nothing. It failed as well- Aerie quickly tried again from the beginning, but still no result. She looked down at the key ring in confusion and panic... each key on the key ring was uncut, none of them fashioned for any purpose at all.

"These aren't the keys for the locks!" Aerie exclaimed in shock, but Minsc did not reply. She looked up, and then took a step back as she saw why Minsc had not replied. Down the hall, standing before them was the spitting image of Minsc, his face contorted in madness. "I'm you now... and I have friends to play with. Come on... let's play."

Behind Dili-Minsc stood Tiax, clutching his mop handle with a maniacal grin across his bearded face. Beside him was an ancient elven mage whose mutterings about werewolves were only drowned out by the constant chattering of teeth from a young woman, eyes completely black as she staggered towards them with the others, moanings about the demons all around spilling from her mouth. A craggy faced man in what looked like an old cowl, long shredded and destroyed, was stumbling towards them at the lead, foam coming from his mouth as he screeched about the state of the asylum- "What?! Why aren't the floors clean!! You! You!!"

Aerie looked at the keys in desperation again, trying to comprehend what had gone wrong; how had every cell been opened, releasing the inmates at their backs while their keys were nothing more than fakes-

_"__Perhaps... perhaps this is not a bad idea; we would save much coin and achieve the same goal, it seems." Yoshimo glanced as the black clad Valen, ambassador of Bodhi herself, left their campsite._

_"It is a fact of the adventuring life." Yoshimo said with a grimace, looking about as they walked. "You will find that much of what you do as an adventurer will depend on what you value most, your principles and morals, or what is best for you physically and profitably. It is a hard lesson to learn…I am ashamed to say I have learned it; I pray you never have to."_

_"An interesting thought..." He paused for a moment, unaware that his words were loud enough to be heard by Aerie as well as Keldorn when he spoke. "And what of those who have no choice? Those who are forced into changing, despite what they want? Is their betrayal as dark and wicked as those who do so willingly?"_

_"There might be more cause for Haer'Dalis to remain here... I can handle this task on my own, should you want more protection-" _

_"Surely you trust me, Aerie?" Yoshimo asked, affecting a hurt expression. "Believe me, I must do this alone."_

_"Aerie, please trust me on this. I know what I must do... we all have our jobs and I shall do mine." he said as he slipped Minsc the keys... -_not the same keys he had stolen...!

Realization hit Aerie in the same moment that the sound of magical incantations being chanted from the horde of inmates hit her ears. Her blood turned to ice as she hurriedly tried to summon some kind of protection- too late. Her scarcely formed shield was penetrated with ease, spell after spell striking her and Minsc. A numbing chill cut through her body as she lost feeling; her legs buckled and she collapsed under her own weight, crumpling on the cold stone floor. Minsc withstood hit after hit, somehow staying up, shouting cries of defiance and wrath as he slipped into a berserker rage and tried to charge his foes... but he was still only human. Another explosion rocked his body as numerous magic missiles impacted him, finally toppling the mammoth. Aerie watched in dazed despair as he fell, unconsciousness claiming him much quicker than it was her. Her last sight was Dili-Minsc standing over her, the little ragged teddy bear still hanging limply from her hand, her eyes alight with madness and insanity.

X X X X X X X

The front doors of the asylum opened with a groan, creaking and loud as they swung wide, sending light flooding into the darkened main hall. Three shadows stretched down the length, filling it with their own shapes and forms as Greywulf, Keldorn and Jaheira entered, all eyes open and weapons at the ready, each one awaiting an attack at any time. If their plan was going as expected, Minsc, Aerie, and Yoshimo should already be freeing Imoen, moving to flank Irenicus from the back as soon as the battle was joined.

The Cowled Wizard representative of the isle, this Perth, had proven to be quite mad as well; unable to be reasoned with, he had put up quite a battle when pressed for the wardstone to open the gates. Still, his madness had also proved to be his undoing; it was hard enough to fight a coordinated opponent with a clear head, and so he had never possessed a real chance of victory. Keldorn's boot crushed a piece of plaster that had once been a fine piece of floor tile, remnants of ruin and destruction in the main hall. Something... something great and terrible had happened here. The scorchings and burn marks on the floors and walls, along with the numerous bloodstains on the floors spoke of a battle that had taken place. Were the Cowled Wizards still in charge, things would undoubtedly have been cleaned and sterilized again... Irenicus was probably not quite so caring about the state of affairs.

No sign of the wizard yet... or of the vampire Bodhi. Greywulf exhaled slowly, still waiting for the appearance; an appearance that might not come. If Irenicus were to find the others first, the whole plan would unravel. That meant they had to get his attention somehow... Greywulf muttered a series of incantations, a lightning ball forming in his hands- with one final shout, he threw it across the room, the magic impacting against a wall and sending charred remains crashing through the other side. Apparently the other two took the hint; Keldorn stood back at their sides to guard, even as vines and other magics of druid origin sprouted from the floors themselves, seeking targets to tear apart, causing as much destruction and damage as possible, all in hopes of drawing the attention of-

"Well well... it would seem you've developed something of a chaotic streak since the last time we met, god-child. Surely you weren't driven mad by the loss of your Imoen? Though it would be utterly satisfying if that were so."

Irenicus' emotionless voice caught them, Greywulf abruptly closing his hand on a fireball that rested there, quenching its magical energy. He looked down at a stairwell off to the right, as the man they had hunted and loathed for so long slowly, calmly made his way up, brushing aside small pieces of debris from their destructive rampage that littered his way. "Oh I'm not mad, Irenicus. Pissed, definitely. But crazy... you're not that good."

A smirk flashed across Irenicus' face, before he raised both hands, palm up. "I presume you are here for Imoen? To play the valiant rescuers in this little drama of mine? Foolish boy... you don't have any idea what takes place here. No clue to my purposes."

"I know you kidnapped us for Bhaal knows what reason." Greywulf growled, stepping forward with each accusation. "I know you killed Dynaheir in cold blood. I know you had your assassins kill Khalid. I know you tried to kill us, mind-control me, and I know you tortured both me and Imoen for your own twisted gains. I know plenty enough to say to hell with your purposes and kill you right now."

Greywulf moved forward as if to strike with his staff- but it was Keldorn whose blade came swinging forward, completely opposite of where Irenicus would have hoped to block had he been paying any attention at all. The blade was completely untouched as it cut through the air, Irenicus making absolutely no movement to block- the sword cut through his image, coming out on the other side clean. Irenicus bowed his head with eyes closed, sneering as he began to fade. "Pathetic. Come and face me, god-child... if you have the strength."

"You know he is waiting for us." Jaheira warned as they darted toward the stairway his image had ascended. "No doubt he intends to use Imoen as a pawn in our battle."

"That's why Minsc and the others went in the back." Greywulf frowned, trying to contain the rage that welled up in him at the sight of Irenicus again. "We've waited four months to get this monster, and I won't wait any longer."

"And wait you shall not." the sound of her feral voice was almost as hated as Irenicus' tone; all eyes and weapons moved to the dark woman sauntering up the same stairwell Irenicus beckoned them to follow down. Bodhi hissed as Jaheira made a quick lunge with her spear, the vampire narrowly dodging out of the way as she cartwheeled to the side, perching on a shattered pillar like a demon cat. "Now now... I'm not here to fight. That pleasure is reserved for my dear brother today. Though... I understand if you all are still nursing old wounds."

"You caught us when we were broken, bruised, and exhausted. Right now?! We're at the top of our game!" Greywulf shouted, raising one hand as lightning jumped from it, striking the pillar Bodhi had been resting on and sending the vampire flying.

"Believe me when I say I have no intention-" Bodhi grunted out, rolling to one side to avoid a swing from Keldorn that would have decapitated her. "-Of fighting you here! Your strength would be better spent preparing for Irenicus. Believe me... you will need it all."

"And the fool leaves one cobra at his back to kill another." Jaheira spat, flipping the grip she held on her spear to bat aside a lunge from Bodhi, the fury rapidly building in her eyes. "You will not escape here, demon. Your time on this earth has ended!"

Bodhi shrieked as a spatter of flames engulfed the floor around her, sending her leaping away, each time narrowly missed by a spell or swing of lethal force. Finally, when a fireball sent her tumbling across the room alongside numerous pieces of debris, she stumbled to her feet, her dark eyes spelling death. "I have told you, and you did not listen. Fine. Salve your wounded pride with this small encounter. Before long you would wish for death."

She dissipated into smoke before their eyes, floating away in wisps. The blood rushed through Greywulf's ears and head as he watched her leave- they had been so damned close to killing her for good. Slowly, he realized that the other two were speaking to him, though he did not hear. Their eyes held some form of worry; he caught a glimpse of himself in a broken piece of glass, and he was taken aback. Was it his imagination or did his eyes contain a slight hint of gold in the pupils- he shook his head, then looked back to find it gone. Forcing himself to calm down, he shook his head, smiling weakly. "Sorry... got caught up there for a minute. We'd best get moving... Irenicus is waiting."

"Greywulf." Keldorn reached out, catching his arm quickly, a slight frown on his face. "I feel the rage, the hatred rolling off of you. Keep it controlled; whatever Irenicus did to you in that dungeon, I fear that your taint will remember it well... possibly too well. I can think of no better way for the Bhaal essence to take command than in your own quest for vengeance."

"With all respect, you have no idea what that 'man' did to me." Greywulf shot back, keeping his voice perfectly controlled. "You'll excuse me if I allow myself a bit of release here. I'm no paladin... don't expect it from me."

Keldorn studied him for a moment longer, then nodded, releasing his grip. Jaheira exchanged a glance with the older man, then followed Greywulf down the trail left for them, Keldorn close behind. The path was straightforward and unwavering, bits of dust and cobwebs clustered through the stone corridor. There were few chances to deviate from the stone corridor underneath the asylum, leading down into the cell bays where Spellhold kept the most dangerous of its residents. It might've proved mind-numbing in monotony if not for the periodic cells with the inmates of insane bent and crazed fervor who shouted obscenities and cast spells fitfully inside their cages, all eyes locking on the passerbys.

"This place stinks of corruption and deceit, even without the machinations of Irenicus and Bodhi..." Jaheira whispered grimly. "We would do well to avoid the inhabitants of this asylum while we search, pawns of our foe or not."

"Short search." Greywulf remarked harshly as they turned a corner, finding the form of Irenicus, arms folded as he awaited their arrival, standing beside an open cell. The three warriors said nothing as they approached, not until they stood mere feet away from the twisted wizard. He stood over all of them, eyes narrow as he analyzed them without the slightest hint of worry or fear. Irenicus' lip curled upward as he glanced to the side, at the figure sitting inside-

"Imoen!" Greywulf shouted in alarm, dashing inside, despite Irenicus' proximity. The wizard only looked on with nonchalance, one eye arching as he saw Greywulf holding one of Imoen's hands, the young girl's eyes drifting everywhere but Greywulf, it seemed. "It's... it's me, Imoen. It's Greywulf... we're here to rescue you!"

"Empty... so empty..." she muttered, Greywulf watching in despair as her hands dropped away from his. He turned back to Irenicus with blind rage in his eyes. "You monster! What have you done to her?!!"

"Nothing more horrendous than what I intend to do to you, Greywulf." Irenicus shrugged. "Do not fear for Imoen; I am quite through with her for the moment. It is, after all, you that I sought. I knew you would seek her, and so the path was difficult, but not impossible. All designed to test your potential."

"Potential? You keep talking about my power, my potential, and all that crap that I don't give a damn about!" Greywulf roared. "That, right there in that cell, that's what I care about! And if you've hurt her I swear I'll make you experience my 'power' first-hand!"

"You have earned no less than an agonizing death, villain." Jaheira echoed, her cold intensity bearing down on her husband's murderer. "You will tell us what has been done to Imoen and we might consider making your death swift."

"You are in no position to make any sort of threats, least of all to me." Irenicus shook his head. "Your emotions, your so-called friends... they make you weak, god-child. It is a weakness; thankfully, I do not have to bear."

From seemingly nowhere, a silver flash of hardened steel swept in, emerging from the shadows behind Irenicus. The figure of Yoshimo stood aside Irenicus, his katana up to rest against the wizard's throat. Greywulf smirked in both exultation and relief... it couldn't have been more perfect. "What is it you were saying about my weaknesses?"

"It seems I may have underestimated you..." Irenicus said darkly as Yoshimo flashed a quick grin at the other party members. "A shame I did not account for your other party members upon your arrival. Tell me Greywulf... where is the rest of your party? Minsc, and Aerie?"

Greywulf frowned, just now noticing the absence of the other's despite Yoshimo's arrival. He opened his mouth to speak- a sudden wave of magic rushed over them, like a thousand echoes of thunder pealing inside their heads. Greywulf barely heard Jaheira and Keldorn's screams aside his own, as the three of them dropped their weapons, trying in vain to cover their ears as the pain drove them to their knees. Greywulf forced his eyes open as his shaking head looked up at Irenicus... and Yoshimo, watching them grimly as he lowered his katana, moving to stand beside Irenicus but not as opponent, not to defend those on the ground... as right hand. As servant.

"Yo... yoshimo?!" Greywulf barely heard himself scream, so intense the pain. "Why-"

"It doesn't matter." Yoshimo said, his voice like stone. "You cannot resist. Give in and the pain will end... please, just give in."

"What... what have you done to us?!" he whimpered as he dropped to the ground, rapidly succumbing to unconsciousness beside Jaheira's still form. Beside her was Keldorn, still on his knees... the paladin roared a challenge as he swung the Hallowed Redeemer, rising to his feet and making a snap lunge toward Irenicus that took even the wizard by surprise. His fading momentum and spirit were enough to push him far enough, enough for the sword to strike Irenicus, a mortal blow if it connected- a clang of steel caught the blade and parried it aside, Yoshimo's katana blocking for his master. Keldorn's sword dropped to the ground as his strength ebbed to its end, blood trickling from his ears.

"Surprising how much magic a goblet of wine can hold, paladin. So much magic, just waiting to be triggered in the body..."

Keldorn began to succumb completely, remembering Yoshimo and Saemon Havarian bringing out the goblets of wine, Yoshimo proposing a toast in friendship, making sure everyone had a drink… he looked up at Yoshimo, eyes rolling back into his head before he dropped completely. "T...traitor..."

Irenicus exhaled deeply as he looked at the fallen three before him. He looked to the thief beside him, and then allowed the hint of a smile, a grotesque image in itself, to cross his face. "Well done, Yoshimo. Well done indeed."

"Are the others still alive?" Yoshimo asked quietly.

"Yes, they are being held in the cells along the east wing." Irenicus dismissed. "There are but three here... you spoke of another of your companions. Where is he? Where is this tiefling bard, this Haer'Dalis?"

"Somewhere... somewhere on the island. He seeks me for my attempt on his life." Yoshimo admitted, inwardly hoping for a punishment, a death for his failure in this matter. Such hopes were futile, but it was all he had left. The hope that his torment might be ended and his shame lifted.

Irenicus considered the thought, then growled, "Find him. The spells I work are far too intricate to be disrupted. If he should attempt to rescue Greywulf, it could kill the Bhaalspawn at a crucial point of my magic... and I trust you know the consequences of such a failure."

"What would you have me do, master? Shall I bring these to the cells as well?" Yoshimo said, taking a knee before the wizard.

"Havarian is here; he will handle that work. Find the tiefling. Bring him to me alive... or not. It is your choice, Yoshimo; you have earned a reward of sorts."

"Thank you, my master." Yoshimo said, his voice emotionless, betraying none of the anguish and despair in his heart.

X X X X X X X

His head and heart were dizzy with pain, if not physical then emotional and spiritual. So much death, so much betrayal... first Minsc and Aerie, then Greywulf, Jaheira and Keldorn. Saving the life of his most hated enemy... the one whom he would serve until death. It cut him, killed him every time he looked at those who had called him friend. Those who had trusted him. He was nothing, now. A worthless dog, not even to be considered. And now he would find another innocent and kill him, or, he reflected bitterly, sentence him to a much crueler fate and bring him to Irenicus alive. No, Yoshimo decided, it would be his life or Haer'Dalis. And, if Yoshimo was honest with himself, he almost hoped the tiefling would end his life instead of the opposite.

Yoshimo pushed open the door to the small room that held the belongings he had stashed here after ensnaring Minsc and Aerie, the meager few possessions he still kept with him. Most of it was stashed under the bed he would try to sleep in at night, would his soul give him any peace for his actions. He stepped inside, eyes red with tears unshed. He wiped his eyes angrily, then knelt down to reach under his bed, hoping to feel the familiar grasp of his bounty hunting equipment, the grapnel and rope, the lockpicks and gauntlets for climbing... he frowned as nothing was forthcoming, surely he hadn't pushed them that far back to be out of reach-

The cold feel of a blade on his neck chilled his soul, the thief immediately ceasing to move, only his head rotating enough to see Haer'Dalis, his smile wide and eyes narrow as he stood behind Yoshimo, the blade Entropy at his neck. "Stand, bloodhound... the hunt has drawn to a close."

Yoshimo slowly rose to his feet, unblinking as he faced his opponent. "I am impressed, Haer'Dalis... how did you manage to make your way in? Did you follow behind when I led Minsc and Aerie through the passages of the Pirate Lord's design?"

"An easy enough entry." Haer'Dalis shrugged modestly. "Though you, I must say, did not disappoint. Your betrayal of the raven's flock was masterful... a better job than I could have done myself. I would congratulate you... but my disdain for the results of your betrayal leaves me cold."

"I thought you enjoyed chaos... what does any of this mean to you?" Yoshimo asked harshly, wondering if he could make a grab for his katanas before Entropy slit his throat.

"Oh, I believe in the power of chaos, this is true enough." Haer'Dalis nodded. "As a Doomguard, I even strive to bring it about. A wondrous thing, when one witnesses the full freedom and bounty of the chaotic multiverses' potential! But I have become rather... attached, to these men and women. The mourning dove in particular, if you must know. I've had my fun... it's time I repay a favor I owe."

"Aye... though I think if you spent less time talking and more time fighting, you might have managed that payment." A second blade came up from behind Haer'Dalis, resting on his throat instead. The form of Saemon Havarian made itself known as the swashbuckler stepped in front of the bard, an apologetic grin on his face. "Sorry... but Irenicus isn't paying me for nothing."

"Interesting. I did make mention how I disliked you upon first glance, didn't I?" Haer'Dalis said calmly as Yoshimo took a step away from the bard, his blades still. "Ah well... two traitors to kill. No loss."

Faster than the blink of an eye, Haer'Dalis spun in place, his twin short swords sending the blade Saemon held flying, right before the other would have cut him in twain. Yoshimo immediately pulled his katanas, keeping his personalized one whilst tossing the other to Saemon. He swung across the hip, parried by Haer'Dalis as Chaos came down and Entropy went up, blocking a high cut from Saemon. The bard deftly rolled away from the pinned position, coming up on the other side of Saemon, Yoshimo caught off guard. Two quick lunges and slashes were barely blocked by the captain, even as Haer'Dalis moved once more, evading another attempt by Yoshimo to flank him.

Out of the room he dived, backing away from the two as they approached on either side, glancing at each other in anticipation of how best to strike... Yoshimo moved forward first, a horizontal slash that brought Haer'Dalis to block with Entropy before rising with his leg to slam across Yoshimo's face. He rolled off with the blow, while Haer'Dalis went on the offensive with Saemon, a series of lightning fast moves and strikes, nearly taking him down before the bard caught sight of Yoshimo moving to rejoin the fray. He rained one more hail of blows upon Saemon, then grinned as he saw the captain stumbling away, pulling a throwing knife from his vest-

Haer'Dalis dropped to the ground as the knife flew past him, burying itself in Yoshimo's shoulder. The thief cried out in pain, but was silenced with the hilt of a sword across the face. Yoshimo fell back, even as Saemon withered under another assault, Haer'Dalis' might proving to be too much for the ship's captain. Two more swings, one up and one low, dropped Saemon to the ground, a long cut across both his leg and his chest.

The bard turned back to face Yoshimo; the thief was halfway up the stairway that led to the main hall of the asylum. Haer'Dalis spun one blade to reverse his grip on it as he gave chase, darting up the stairway above- a pile of debris rained down upon his head as he emerged into the light, one particularly nasty piece leaving a gash across his forehead, the bard diving out the rest of the way as he came up in a crouch, Yoshimo standing behind the stairwell with a dark grimace. "You haven't learned much since our last encounter."

"I've learned plenty... you should know this sparrow cannot be clipped the same way twice." he quipped, slowly moving ahead, Yoshimo circling him amidst the ruins and ash. Two more swings and sparks flew through the air, each one whole after the exchange. Yoshimo's eyes narrowed as he watched the bard slowly spin, his moves so familiar as he slipped into the euphoric dance of death that had killed so many before- he relied solely on memory and instinct, rising and lowering his katana for each blow, waiting for the bard to come out of it. Entropy made a slash, then Chaos... there. Yoshimo took his opportunity, slipping his katana in between the twirling blades, drawing red across Haer'Dalis' side. It sent him off kilter, stumbling away with one arm clutching his side.

It was Yoshimo's turn to move into the offensive, his katana making strong sweeps and cuts across the major portions of Haer'Dalis' body, forcing him to block high and low, never in the same place twice. A vertical swing aimed at the crown of his head was stopped short by both blades, crossed above Haer'Dalis' head as Yoshimo pushed hard, driving the tiefling to a knee. Sweat rolled from Yoshimo's face as he drove harder; it was almost done, just a few more inches and-

Entropy slid from the sword lock and out, slicing into a rope pulley that suspended a chandelier of sorts above the main hall, Haer'Dalis immediately grabbing hold of the rope as it flew upward, sweeping him into the air and away from danger as the chandelier came crashing down. Yoshimo's reflexes were just as quick; a throwing knife from his belt sliced through the air and cut into the rope that pulled Haer'Dalis up, leaving him with nothing to hold onto but unattached rope. The bard came flying back down, tumbling into a ruined wall, still slightly aflame from the magic Greywulf had summoned upon arrival.

"You should not have come here." Yoshimo grunted, taking another running slash, hoping to end the battle before he could- Haer'Dalis kicked up a cluster of dirt and ash from the floor, sending it into the bounty hunter's face as he approached, Yoshimo backing away with searing pain, rubbing his eyes to clear them. When he had done so, it was all but over. Haer'Dalis had him cornered, his short swords both poised to end his life. There would be no Saemon to save his life this time around. And maybe... maybe for Yoshimo, that was best.

Haer'Dalis, his face dirty and bloody, hair soaked with sweat, shrugged with a twirl of one blade, positioning it towards the bounty hunter's neck. "Tell me, before you meet your end... where is the raven? I must not forget to rescue him when I have finished you."

His life, ended? It would be a welcome prospect. And if Haer'Dalis could rescue the others, so much the better. Yoshimo opened his mouth, tried to speak... and couldn't. He tried again, tried to relay the location of Greywulf and his companions... and could not force himself to do so. The Geas... the blasted Geas, it would not give him peace, not even in death! Yoshimo's mouth shut, his eyes tight with powerless rage. "I will say nothing, tiefling. Kill me and be done with it."

Haer'Dalis stood still for a moment, then shook his head in disbelief. "I had no idea how closely you were bound. How much this torments you to be indebted with your oath. No, hound. Your punishment will be to live. To live and serve this monstrosity."

Yoshimo's eyes widened in shock; he pushed himself to his feet, taking a step forward. "You cannot! Kill me! You have won, now take your revenge and end it!"

Haer'Dalis studied him... opened his mouth as though to speak, then spun in place, just in time to meet a claw slash that would have torn his back open from top to bottom. Bodhi rested on her haunches a few feet from the bard, smiling widely as Haer'Dalis' eyes narrowed, circling the vampire. "So... you are the monster who has caused my raven such trouble. He spoke very highly of your skills, Bodhi. I had often wished to discover whether Greywulf exaggerated or not."

"Be careful what you wish for, tiefling." Bodhi purred, launching herself from her position, and swinging one of her lithe legs towards him, sliding past a block and into his chest. He stumbled back, then tripped forward, both blades swinging and twirling. Chaos cut into Bodhi's arm as she attempted to strike again, the vampire hissing in pain. She backpedaled as he continued to go forward, his blades pinning just fast enough to keep her from striking again. His blue locks spun and danced as he moved, breaths coming hard and heavy. He grunted with effort as Chaos came down to cut into Bodhi's lunging arm, only to have her feint left, his block missing completely. Her claws struck his torso, cutting fire into his stomach as he reeled from the blow.

He backed off for a moment, studying her as he tried to regain some of his previous wind. She circled his position with a sneer, finally lunging out with a kick, his blade dropping low to the left to block while his other sword came down towards her head, missing by an inch. He had not expected to face quite so much, not all at once. The battle had begun to wear on him; it was questionable how much longer he could keep fighting-

A sudden fire caught the back of one of his legs as he moved, sending him tumbling to the ground. He rolled several times, his muscles clenching in pain before looking up, gritting his teeth at the sight. Saemon Havarian and Yoshimo stood to his front and left, each one with a katana in hand. Saemon's had a splatter of blood on it; from the grimace on his face he was still nursing the blows Haer'Dalis had handed him just minutes prior. To his right moved Bodhi, a decidedly predatory gleam in her eyes as she crept forward.

His attention divided, his foes numerous... the bard never saw Bodhi's next strike, Entropy flying from one hand. The next strike was unseen too, as were the two after that. Bodhi looked up from the unconscious bard, and then sneered at Yoshimo. "Weakling. If Irenicus had not felt the pull of your Geas and sent me, you would be dead now. Take care... many of our foes will not be as forgiving as this tiefling."

Even as Yoshimo watched Bodhi pick Haer'Dalis up and bring him downstairs to the cells, he shook his head in despair. No... no there was nothing forgiving about Haer'Dalis. To die was torment, but to live... to live was a fate worse than death.


	50. Part 2: Rapture of the Father

_Author's Note: W00t! Chapter 50; we're halfway home. Sigh... so long. Hopefully it's just as good as when it started. Just wanted to point out that a certain two characters towards the end may seem just slightly OOC, and may have as well in earlier chapters with certain bits of arguing and bickering(like it isn't obvious who the two are)... well, there is a reason for the continual strife. And that purpose will be seen... next chapter. Just to let everyone who's called me on it so far, there is a purpose. Y'know who you are. Hehe. Enjoy! _

An incessant dripping of water, leaking from a pipe running somewhere through the darkened ceiling of the asylum laboratory, was just enough to keep the lone figure in the glass prison awake and focused. He sat with his hands up on his knees, resting on the stone floor below him. His head was bowed and his shoulders slumped; the posture of a man defeated. His brown hair was tousled and his gray robes unkempt; all his equipment and weaponry had been taken from him, stored somewhere in this forsaken place called Spellhold. All he had left was his magic... and as before when in the clutches of Irenicus, there was little chance of his spells overcoming the wards placed on his prison to keep him from escaping so easily.

All around the room there stood similar glass cases like his own, each one filled with prisoners, most of whom were half-dead to begin with, by their garb once having been either Cowled Wizards or Shadow Thieves. Why they were imprisoned alongside himself was an enigma, but Greywulf had neither the drive nor the knowledge to figure it out. His head had only recently stopped echoing with the pain of the spell that had brought him to his knees so easily... things were so hard to remember, so hard to focus... what had even happened? Brief glimpses of his memories flashed through, thoughts and remembrances of what had come before. Betrayal, that was it. First by Saemon Havarian, then by the man they had called their friend and ally, who said himself that he valued honor above all else.

A loud creaking echoed through the room as the double doors that entered into the laboratory creaked open, letting light blind the prisoner and leave him with only the squinting sight of a silhouette in the doorway. Greywulf raised one hand to clear his vision, his eyes widening briefly as the figure beyond closed the doors, allowing Greywulf to see him fully. The sorcerer laughed humorlessly, then dropped his head again, leaning back against the glass cage he was in.

"Look who's come to visit his old friend. And here I was thinking you didn't love me anymore."

Yoshimo stepped out of the shadow, his face unwavering in its expression as he stood before Greywulf, silent and unmoving. Greywulf waited in silence for a while longer, then looked up at the bounty hunter with disbelief on his face. "I have to admit, you have a lot more guts than I would have given credit to a traitor for. Coming here, showing your face... or maybe that's just arrogance on your part. It's so hard to tell."

He waited for Yoshimo to speak, but there was silence in the room. Greywulf shrugged, then leaned forward from his seated position. "Well? You seem a little quiet today, 'friend.' What's the matter? Don't tell me you've got a guilty conscience. That would imply you had a conscience to begin with. As I think we can tell by my current place of residence... that's just not the case."

"You did a fine job though... after everything we've been through and everyone who's tried to collect our heads for this or that price, you still fooled us. I never saw it coming once. See, I thought that I could trust someone I'd fought and bled alongside for four months. Shows what I know... but I digress. You should be proud of yourself; I'd congratulate you, shake your hand if the thought of touching you didn't make my skin crawl." Greywulf said, clasping his hands before him. "So... anything to say, or did you just come here to gloat?"

"Don't make this harder than it already is, Greywulf..." Yoshimo ground out, his voice hoarse. "Believe me when I say this was never my desire-"

"Oh, of course I believe you." Greywulf barked a laugh. "Let me out of this thing and I'll show you just how much I believe you."

"Do you think I had a choice?!" Yoshimo cried out, taking a step closer to the glass, his face breaking the calm front and betraying the pain inside.

"You always had a choice, Yoshimo." Greywulf shook his head, keeping his voice dark and low. "What was it? What price did Irenicus put on our heads for you to do this? Too much gold for any sane man to refuse, right? Or power, that's always enticing. Magic weapons or armor? Go on, tell me how much I was worth to you. Really, I'd like to know what I was sold for. How much you sold not only Minsc, Jaheira, and Imoen for, but Keldorn and Aerie too? What's the going rate for the heads of six friends these days?!"

"I swore a Geas!" Yoshimo shouted, cutting Greywulf off. "I swore it long before... long before I knew who- what this Irenicus was. Do you know what it... do you know what it feels like to try and defy a Geas? Your insides... they hurt. They feel as though they are tearing apart- like they are on fire. And then you die. No second chance. I did everything I could to keep you alive and safe... I could do no other."

"Of course you did. Irenicus wouldn't want his prize damaged before he finished what he started back in the Promenade." Greywulf retorted, leaning forward. "I should have trusted my first instincts... but I didn't. I gave you a chance, made you one of us! And you used it to murder us all! My guess is you did the same to Haer'Dalis; he didn't leave, he figured out your plan. And you, having 'no choice,' killed him before he could tell us."

"Haer'Dalis is... alive." Yoshimo struggled. "He came to free you and the others, and was imprisoned with the rest of your companions in the cell blocks. Irenicus... he desires a tiefling to experiment with. Haer'Dalis will serve that purpose well."

"So instead of killing Haer'Dalis, you brought him here so Irenicus could do whatever he likes to the man." Greywulf sneered as he leaned back. "You're a real saint, you know that?"

Yoshimo flushed red, anger showing at the corners of his eyes. He trembled as though to say something, but whatever it was got suppressed as he seemed to shrink, slumping before him. Greywulf watched, then sighed, dropping his head again. "Yoshimo... why are you here?"

The bounty hunter did not answer; he nearly jumped as Greywulf sprang to his feet, planting both hands on the glass a few inches away with a loud ring. "Why the hell are you here?!!"

Yoshimo exhaled deeply, and then finally locked eyes with the imprisoned sorcerer. "I... I needed to talk. To someone, anyone who could- who was not Irenicus. Bodhi. Saemon-"

"And so you chose the men and women you betrayed a few hours ago. Might want to work on your choice of sounding board." Greywulf laughed bitterly. "No. That's a lie if I've ever heard one. I can see it in your eyes; you're looking for something else. You're... you're looking for forgiveness, aren't you?"

The way he said it was not a question, but a statement, and Yoshimo knew it. He did not answer, or even look at Greywulf anymore. His eyes dropped to the floor below, while Greywulf took a step back from the glass case, sitting back down in his prison. There was silence between the two for several minutes, before Greywulf finally spoke. "You want forgiveness, Yoshimo? Find a priest. The only thing you'll get from me is a promise... the promise that once I get out of here, I will kill you. No bargains, no appeals for the past... that's it. You die."

"I would welcome the release." Yoshimo managed, before turning and stalking out, leaving just as quickly as he had come. Greywulf watched him leave, then slumped back down, his head in his hands.

So much anger... had to get it out somehow. At Yoshimo, Irenicus, himself... he should have seen it coming. They had been so close; Irenicus had been right there... and just like that, they were captives again. For all intents and purposes they might as well have been back in the Promenade dungeon again. A brief memory of Yoshimo laughing, the bounty hunter raising his goblet of wine on Havarian's ship... he clenched his fist, slamming it to the ground. Geas or not, there was no room for forgiveness in his heart for the traitor. The sound of the door opening again gave a fresh rush of anger-driven energy; he climbed to his feet and shouted out, "I think we've got nothing left to say-"

"I disagree. Save your threats and anger towards Yoshimo." the sound of Irenicus' cold voice interrupted him, Greywulf reflexively taking a step back as he saw the mad wizard approaching, his dark eyes watching Greywulf's every movement. "He is of no more importance. We, on the other hand, have a great deal to discuss."

X X X X X X X

Yoshimo tried to steady his hand as he reached for the door, his throat dry and eyes red. Each word Greywulf had spoken to him was true... each accusation, every ounce of pain was all deserved. And yet... he was right. He wanted forgiveness. He wanted something- anything to salve the guilt that haunted his every moment. His sleep brought no rest, and there was no enjoyment in anything. He had even tried ending it... the moment he had finished battling Haer'Dalis and had been given some time alone, he had pulled the long dagger he carried in his belt and tried to kill himself. He had been prepared, been ready and been willing... but he was unable.

The Geas would not give him that freedom; he could not physically choose death over Irenicus. He cried for hours in that room, cried until his voice was raw and his eyes had no tears left to shed. He raised one hand to his neck, feeling for the familiar touch of the medallion he wore, but there was nothing. He had left it along with his journal with the priest in Athkatla- he pounded one hand on his thigh. A foolish notion, leaving those things back at the city; a false hope that the others might uncover his plot and make it back to the city, escaping Irenicus' clutches with Imoen in tow. They would never see freedom again... he had ensured that. Damn it all, they would hate him for his betrayal forever, but unless he asked, unless he took that step, he would never know. He had to know- could there ever be any room for forgiveness? Could he ever regain any of his honor, if only the tiniest bit, meaningless to them but the absolute world to him?

He took a deep breath and then pushed the doors open. A long line of cells stretched before him, the same row of cells that Minsc and Aerie had been checking when the inmates, now safely back in their cells, had cornered them within. He trembled just slightly as he remembered sneaking down the row of cells, unlocking each one while Minsc and Aerie tried in vain to free Imoen from her prison. He had watched with a chill as the freed inmates swarmed over Minsc and Aerie; they would have torn the two apart had Yoshimo not intervened; a few wands Irenicus had given him to quell them when their purpose was finished brought them to unconsciousness as quickly as it had come to the ranger and elf.

Now there were five more inmates to be controlled; he kept walking, passing the lunatics and magically deviant, finally coming to the ones he was looking for. He hesitated a bit before showing himself to them, pausing before walking to where they could see him. Surely none of them would be more forgiving or sympathetic than Greywulf. How could he explain it to them? They couldn't understand... couldn't understand the pain that had driven him to this point. The rage, the sorrow that had pushed him to servitude in the first place. All for naught- but it was meaningless now. His sister was dead... and nothing he did could bring her back.

No, there would be no forgiveness granted, no mercy shown to him. He was undeserving, and to show himself to these men and women would only serve to invite their wrath. He had enough guilt without their accusations and insults. He had turned to go, when a voice rang out, clear and strong as ever. "What are you doing here, Yoshimo?"

Yoshimo hesitated for a moment, and then stepped out, looking through the magic barrier at the paladin in the cell, resting on his knees in prayer and meditation. Keldorn's head was bowed, but his posture spoke to being fully aware of the thief's presence. He looked up after a moment, his face hard, though the sheer anger he had felt radiating from Greywulf was not present. Yoshimo started to speak, but found he had nothing to say. He tried a second time, but came up just as empty as before. The venerable man's gaze did not waver once; as hard as stone, but with none of the blame, none of the rage he was sure that everyone else's eyes would betray. Minsc, Jaheira, probably Aerie... all of their hatred would have been palpable in this situation... but not Keldorn. If there was the slightest chance, the slightest hope that anyone would have a semblance of understanding, it would be- "What are you doing here, Yoshimo??"

The question was more pointed this time, intended to evoke a response whether Yoshimo wished to give it or not. He swallowed, then managed the words. "Amusing... Greywulf asked me the same question when I approached him. I seek... I seek forgiveness. Forgiveness for my crimes."

Keldorn's eyes narrowed as he locked gazes with the bounty hunter, neither moving. Finally Keldorn exhaled, rubbing the bridge of his nose. "And what did Greywulf say when you asked him?"

"He... he damned me. Cursed me for my crimes and sins. I do not blame him, but I have to ask. Please... surely, if anyone can understand, you can-"

"Understand what drives a man to become a traitor? No, Yoshimo. I do not understand. I am not like you... I have not sold my heart and soul for a bag of gold or a taste of power. A man can ask forgiveness seventy times, and his brother can grant it those seventy times... but while he continues on his path of darkness, that's all it ever is. Just words. You want words from me, words to ease the guilt in your soul. Were I even willing to say the words you wish to hear, they would be meaningless. If you seek absolution here... you will not find it. Now get out of my sight."

Yoshimo's heart fell; the sorrow and despair replaced itself with rage. He clenched one fist, then turned as he snapped, "So much for the forgiveness of the Order; I should not have expected anything from a paladin."

He stormed out, only to hear Keldorn's voice echo back, "Apologies are easy, Yoshimo; it is repentance that is difficult. If you truly wish to ease your own guilt, let it be through your deeds. Do what you know is right. Only then will your words carry the slightest meaning- and until then, there is nothing left for me to say."

Yoshimo hesitated... then continued out, slamming the cell doors behind him. Keldorn closed his eyes, bowed his head, and returned to his prayers. He would need the blessings of Torm just to survive this hellish place... but Spellhold was still nothing compared to the hell Yoshimo was still going through.

X X X X X X X X

His throat was raw and it hurt to even breathe, much less speak... but he could not suppress another scream as crackles of lightning poured over his body, curled up within the glass case. He managed to crane his quivering head from the fetal position to fix his blurred vision on Irenicus, still standing outside the case, hands smoking from the amount of magic he had been pouring through them. "I... am ... going to-"

"Kill me? I doubt it, though all things are possible." Irenicus shrugged, raising his hands again as though to continue the torment... but he stopped. Lowering his attacks, he instead stayed there, frowning as Greywulf slowly began to uncurl, regaining feeling in his limbs. "Perhaps we should have a talk; you have come far enough to warrant an explanation of sorts, I think."

"You didn't seem all that talkative before-" Greywulf managed, biting back a string of expletives that came to mind as he straightened one leg, needles of pain drilling through him as he moved it. "In case you had forgotten, we've been through all this before."

"Indeed we have, though that could be attributed to the impeding threat of the Shadow Thieves; which I note despite my haste in our sessions, still caused enough trouble to free you." Irenicus pointed out. "You see me as a villain and a creature of evil when, in fact, I tell you the truth... we are alike, you and I."

Greywulf let out a laugh, a pure laugh that brought a slight frown to Irenicus as the sorcerer tried to pull himself back up. "You've got to be kidding... I'm nothing like you."

"Oh really?" A tiny curl rose on either side of his mouth as Irenicus shook his head. "I think we are. Both of us have the blood of the divine within us... both of us are feared by the weak, by the incompetent and undeserving... both of us seek a destiny that is kept from us by force. You have chosen a path that gains you the respect and love of those around you- a foolish choice, one which I was fortunate enough to avoid. You limit your own potential needlessly. If you could but see things as they are, you would not fight your blood but embrace it. Embrace it and command it, unlike your dead brother Sarevok."

"Blood of the divine?" Greywulf mustered the energy to snort in disgust. "You're a Bhaalspawn too? It would explain the homicidal tendencies."

"I am no Bhaalspawn, Greywulf." Irenicus shook his head. "My link to the divine was of a much more benevolent deity- but those days are long since past. You might hate me; think I take some pleasure in this torment and pain... I do not. I take no joy in your suffering; it is simply necessary, that's all. I have no plans on making the rivers of the Sword Coast run red; my goals are meant only to retrieve what was taken from me, stolen from my rightful possession in the first place."

"You are nothing more than a means to that end in my eyes... a tool to be used and discarded. A stepping stone, if you will. Perhaps you think that makes me evil; I prefer efficient. Imoen was much the same; believe me or not, but I do regret having to bring out so much darkness within her. Her spirit was... refreshing." he said, as though challenging Greywulf to dispute him.

Greywulf's blood rose at the mention of Imoen; the sight of her empty shell was more than enough to bring a flurry of accusations to mind. "How dare you even speak of her. Torturing her, breaking her spirit and body, all to get to me? There's no greater evil that I've ever faced."

"You think all of my work with Imoen was simply to get to you?" Irenicus asked, a genuinely surprised tone to his voice. "You think too much of yourself, god-child. Imoen served Bodhi's needs, just as you will serve mine. She is like you in many ways, and in one special way in particular."

Those words hit Greywulf harder than any spell could have; he backed up, leaning against the back of the glass cage in disbelief as Irenicus chuckled humorlessly, realizing the depths of Greywulf's shock. "You did not know, did you? Perhaps I over-estimated you, Greywulf. Surely you saw the signs."

"Imoen... she can't be. Not a Bhaalspawn. Not like me." he whispered, shaking his head. "She-"

"Suppressed the taint for a long time, longer than any other, I imagine." Irenicus noted, an almost condescending tone in his voice. "You must've suspected. She is a similar age, and was also secluded as a child. This Gorion of yours should have told you early on what you were; you might have learned not to fear what you are but to embrace it, just as I have done. I suspect her innocent charm and humor suppressed the darkness. No doubt your Gorion felt she would be safe and continue to suppress the taint at Candlekeep while he whisked you, the more obvious and volatile Bhaalspawn, to safety from Sarevok's hunt. Anchev would follow you and Gorion, leaving Imoen to grow in both power and knowledge, untainted by the life of adventuring that would spoil her spirit's purity. With enough time spent at the fortress, she might have become greater than us both."

"No. She's never... never given any reason for me to believe you." Greywulf gulped, trying to fight back tears of shock and anger. "She's not like me. I swear she's not."

"She showed no symptoms because there was no room for shadows in her spirit. To bring that darkness out, I had to show her some very dark shadows indeed, both mental and physical. It is unfortunate that it had to be done, but it was necessary for Bodhi to get what she needed. Now I must focus on you."

"You… you corrupted Imoen's spirit, all for your damned goals? She was pure… a gentler soul I've never seen before, and you killed it!" Greywulf raged, pounding against the glass that separated them. "Whatever you wanted us for, it's over. You think we're alike? I'll never help you. That's what this little 'chat' was all about, right? To get me to help you in whatever you're after? Forget it. I'll die first."

"You assume I require your cooperation." Irenicus said, his voice sounding slightly miffed. "I will take your essence from you regardless. I think you are ready now... the despair of learning Imoen's heritage, the pain of my work upon you... yes, you are ready. Do you see the other chambers? Fruits of Bodhi's guild war, the real purpose. Their deaths will force your divine soul from you... at the appropriate time. I suspect this shall be mercifully quick."

"Must it be, brother?" Bodhi's voice cut in as she slunk into the room, sliding to Irenicus' side. "I told him he would long for death... make him suffer."

Irenicus glanced down at the vampire, shaking his head in disbelief. "Such fire you have, sister... perhaps it is Imoen's soul coming through."

He looked back at Greywulf, raising his hands once more. "We shall see how I feel when Greywulf's soul belongs to me..."

Tendrils of magic claimed him as his own screams mingled with those of the captives around the room, and once more, darkness clouded the edges of his vision, slowly driving him further and further into the depths of unconsciousness. He fought it with all his might... but with each death he felt a little more of himself disappear, pieces falling away until there was nothing left to hang on to. His eyes squeezed tight, tears forced out of them as he dropped from all thought and feeling- a vision of Imoen laughing by a campfire flashed through his mind, almost surreal... before splintering into nothing, the symbol of Bhaal rising in her place. _A Bhaalspawn... why, Gorion? Why... why didn't you tell us?_

X X X X X X X

Greywulf's mind burned as he regained consciousness, not knowing where he was, or what had happened. He found himself not where he had been left, but on grassy ground, lit dimly by what seemed like a partially blacked out sun. He pushed himself up to his feet, and looked around, taking in his environment. Around him was an old lean-to, filled with hay and other farm equipment. Something about it was familiar… He turned and saw a large castle fortress before him, though not as he remembered it. "Candlekeep." Greywulf whispered.

His old home was as large as he recalled, though it was alien at the same time. Portions of the wall seemed empty, filled with void and stars rather than stone and brick. Fire seemed to spew from the insides of the castle, but he could not be certain from outside; the sky was blood red and the sun a purple shade that seemed to emanate darkness rather than light. Looking around there was no sign of the others or of Irenicus; he carefully stepped to the main gate leading inside the fortress- the doors swung wide, as though bowing before his presence.

Though the halls and paths were numerous, his feet moved of their own accord and brought him to the main library, the place where so many days and nights had been spent studying... the place where he had first learned of the Bhaal prophecies. Of the destiny that might be his to claim. A wind seemed to blow through the room, despite the lack of windows or doors. At the end of the room sat a desk, where Gorion had always sat. Drawn to this location, Greywulf approached- the wind blew once more, this time leaving a shrouded mist in the chair. It formed to human shape, finally coming into focus- "Gorion?" he whispered.

"Yes, child. It is I." Gorion's gray beard wrinkled slightly as he smiled, sitting there before Greywulf, stumbling back in disbelief.

"No... this isn't real. This is a dream... something of Irenicus' doing. You can't be real." he said, fighting back tears as he put one hand up to ward off Gorion, as though fearing for his own life.

"You have no reason to fear me, child. I am your father and I have come to take you home. To my side." Gorion smiled, extending one hand, open and inviting. "Come with me. We have much to learn... so much to learn."

"Learn? But you- I don't understand..." Greywulf muttered, clutching his head as he tried desperately to find what was truth. A memory came flooding to him, a memory of past dreams and visions, and like before he heard the same terrible voice that had haunted his dreams for so long. _"You will learn..."_

Greywulf looked up, shaking his head in resistance, trying to step backward. Gorion's smile faltered, following as though to take Greywulf by force. "Come child, do not toy with me in this manner-"

Gorion's words were cut off by a cry from the other end of the hall, Greywulf whirling to see the source. A blur of pink and black came to Greywulf's side, positioning herself between Gorion and Greywulf. "He's free of you! You're not going to control his life, father!"

"Imoen? I... I don't understand-" Greywulf managed, abruptly feeling another wave of dizziness come over him as he wavered on his feet, Imoen standing firmly in front of Greywulf.

"You would challenge me, daughter?" Gorion's voice grew powerful, his kindly visage becoming angry and full of rage. "Stand down, or feel my wrath!"

Gorion took a grab past Imoen, reaching for Greywulf, but Imoen's hand flew down, batting Gorion away with a shove. She planted her feet with fierce determination as Gorion stumbled back, unbridled hate consuming the old mage. "Impudent brat! You'll pay for such arrogance!"

"You're... you're not our father." Greywulf managed, the dizziness growing worse as he leaned on the desk for support. "Not our father..."

"Am I not? Truly?" Gorion laughed, a nasty sound that made Greywulf want to cover his ears. Gorion's robes suddenly grew, engulfing the wizard as they grew dark black, sliding over him like a living darkness. It slowly vanished, revealing the being Greywulf had warred against his whole life, trying to suppress and squelch from taking control of his blood. Bhaal, the dead God of Murder stood very much alive before him, the very presence of the deity choking the life from him. His armor was dark and heated, his sword broad and sharp. Bhaal's eyes burned bright red with rage and hate, the living embodiment of the armor Sarevok had worn, though no physical form could be made out within the black iron. Greywulf could feel that no matter what was reality, in this world, Bhaal was indeed real and alive. He had no more time to question his circumstance, when the figure before him shouted in a dark, gritty voice of malice and hate, _"Come now, children... pay homage to your true father! Fall to your knees! You can do no other! I am within you! I am your essence!"_

Bhaal swung his sword down, aiming straight for Imoen, Greywulf's eyes widening as the blade came within inches of slaughtering his sister- Imoen's form shimmered with stone as a Stoneskin activated, sending the blade bouncing off. Imoen shouted her own magics as a hail of miniature meteors appeared, spinning around her as several flew at her command to strike the enemy before them. Greywulf tried to think of his own magics, but they were nonsense in his mouth. All he could do was move back, trying to put as much distance between himself and Bhaal as Imoen could muster for him.

_"You cannot run from yourself; you cannot defeat yourself! I am the blood! I am the instinct! I am the true Greywulf! I am what you were born to be!" _Bhaal shouted, reaching out physically to toss Imoen aside, rumbling ahead towards Greywulf.

He covered the distance that separated them in two strides; he raised his sword to strike but a tangle of web suddenly wrapped his arms to his side, covering his armor and blade, spitting from the ground with Imoen's incantations. He turned to her, his eyes flaring with hatred as Imoen moved to protect Greywulf once more, Bhaal's sheer strength snapping the web as fast as Imoen could conjure it. Greywulf looked up at Imoen in fear; her eyes had begun glowing bright blue, the pink strands of her hair shining brightly as they flew upward in gusts of power with each spell she summoned. Power seemed to radiate from her, swelling her spellcraft and her own power while Bhaal struggled under the onslaught. She scarce took time to breathe as she tried with all her might to deny the advance of Bhaal, each spell exploding against the reborn deity.

Greywulf tried to find his footing, tried to move, give her some room to work with; he finally got to his feet again, stumbling away as Bhaal screamed out after him, _"I am your instinct, yet you deny me! Fight me within your own mind? I should devour you! How do you stand?! I sense… your soul… it has taken form to guide from within! You are strange among your kin!"_

His soul... Greywulf looked back at Imoen, still fighting, never giving up. His soul. His eyes widened in understanding- a thunderclap echoed through the library, even as the entire castle of Candlekeep around them began to quaver and tremble. Imoen looked up from her spells in panic, her face betraying the first hint of fear she had shown. It was as though the Keep were over a splitting crevice; the walls around them crumbled away and tumbled to the ground below, while Bhaal finally and completely tore loose from his bonds. A deep throated laugh issued from the armor, one armored finger pointing at Imoen as her eyes returned to their normal color, the life and infusion of power that had filled Imoen somehow seeming to shrink by the second. _"Your soul… it is weak and will not help again! You are empty inside! There is nothing within… but the instinct! The blood!"_

Imoen threw herself in front of Greywulf once more, Greywulf shouting in alarm- Bhaal's sword came around and sliced into Imoen, sending her tumbling into the crevices that the Keep had fallen into. He heard himself scream, reaching down the chasm for her, but she had already vanished. Turning back to Bhaal, he found the god standing above him, the bloody sword raised high. It came down with a flash as he felt a surge of horror and agony rip through him, as though tearing him up from the inside. The pain narrowed down to one point, throbbing like an open wound. For a moment, he felt nothing.

It exploded in one gasp, ripping away from his body, leaving… emptiness. A coldness like that he had never felt. Something was gone, something that had been a part of him for so long, yet was now absent, leaving him cold and alone.

His eyes flashed open, face and body drenched in sweat. Around him was the strange glass chamber Irenicus had trapped him in to begin with; his own body was smoking, though he felt no burns. He looked up and saw Irenicus standing outside the tube, his face a mixture of both triumph and curiosity. "Well! You are a strong one indeed. You resist beyond all reason. Pity you are now dead on the inside."

"What have you done to me, Irenicus? Tell me or I'll-"

"You'll what?" Irenicus hissed, leaning close to the glass, his face contorted in a twisted taunt. Greywulf recoiled, completely taken aback. The dark wizard burst into a laugh; his former deadness, his calm that permeated everything he did was gone. It was like Irenicus was alive once more. "You are no longer among the living, Greywulf. You wonder what I have stolen from you? It is your soul... your divine essence, the very thing that made you special... it is now mine. The curse that was wrought against Bodhi and I has now ceased and yours will now begin. You will wither, you will wane, and you will die."

Greywulf listened in disbelief, trying to deny it and yet knowing the truth of the matter all at once. "You're... you're lying. You can't have-"

"On the contrary... I did. I have everything I needed from you, Greywulf. You are of no further use." Irenicus sneered, before turning to the vampire across the room. "Bodhi! Remove this nothing, and Imoen as well. We are restored at their expense and need them no longer. The same goes for their companions. Our revenge is almost at hand, dear sister; we will have what was stolen from us."

"As you would have it, brother." Bodhi said with a laugh, her undead servants opening the glass cage and binding Greywulf, far too many enemies for him to think of attacking.

"See to it as quickly as possible. I will tell our friends in the dark of our coming. We will plan our assault from there. I bid you farewell, Child of Bhaal. We will not meet again." Irenicus finished, watching as Greywulf was dragged from the room, his eyes boring into Irenicus with anger.

A flood of rage coursed through Greywulf, giving him strength he had not thought possible. With a mighty tear, he loosed himself from his captor's grip and launched himself at a startled Irenicus, stopped mere inches away from the surprised wizard. The vampires who had managed to stop him were clutching his arms to keep him from going any further, his body astonishingly strong… unnaturally so. Still, the undead were able to keep him still, once more securely their captive. Even as he glared daggers of hate at the suddenly amused Irenicus, he said through a dark, grating voice, "You're wrong about one thing… I'll definitely be seeing you again."

Irenicus seemed to consider his words... he reared back with a fist, slamming it into Greywulf's face and sending him to the ground. Irenicus pulled him up by the hair, leaning in close. "I wouldn't count on it."

Another punch to the gut and Greywulf was dragged off, through the hall of cells, gasps barely audible to his ears as his companions saw him pulled along. One cell was opened, the vampires hissing with pleasure as they threw him inside, his body rolling over and over until he slammed into the stone wall. A chorus of concerned voices was a mishmash in his hearing, his head throbbing... but worst of all was his heart, his spirit... so empty. He rolled over on his back, the world fading again. His eyes fluttered closed as a trickle of blood ran from his nose. "So... so cold; so empty..."

_Imoen... me... both Bhaalspawn? Why, Gorion... why...?_

X X X X X X X

"How long has he been out?"

"At least four hours. Maybe longer."

"Will he be alright? The screams we heard-"

"We all heard them. You and I have both done all the healing in our capability; the rest is up to him." Jaheira's tone could not hide the worry she felt for their leader and friend as he lay in the cell with them, their group finally together once more... if broken. Their party had been placed into a large cell as one, everyone including Imoen, though neither she nor Greywulf were responsive. Greywulf had been out since being brought back from whatever experiments Irenicus had seen fit to place on him, while Imoen was as mindless as when first found; Aerie's attempts at feeling what lay within her mind were either too weak, or she was too unfamiliar with Imoen to get very far. Greywulf might have been able to do it... but it was anyone's guess if he would ever even wake up.

"Do you think they'll bring Haer'Dalis in here with us?" Aerie asked, Keldorn's expression grim as she spoke.

"Irenicus wanted a tiefling for some separate test; I hold little hope Haer'Dalis will be spared the full brunt of Irenicus' madness. Our best hope of aiding him lies in aiding ourselves and escaping this cell."

"We have no weapons or gear." Jaheira said, her voice weary. "We'd be slaughtered-"

"It doesn't matter." Aerie retorted, her small frame unable to hide the anger and frustration building within the elf. "You might be defenseless, but I am most certainly not. We have to get out of here!"

"Do not lecture me, girl." Jaheira growled. "If you think I am defenseless as I am, you are sorely mistaken."

"No! No fighting amongst us! Let our enemies feel our wrath!" Minsc interrupted, his fists clenched tight. "Too much evil has gone unpunished; too many friends hurt by this villain! Minsc refuses to let this continue; he will avenge Dynaheir or die!"

"No matter what we do, we cannot have both Imoen and Greywulf unconscious. One must be awake and able to help before we even consider an escape." the paladin sighed, trying to calm the group. "Jaheira... can you try again?"

She nodded; placing her hands over Greywulf's head and heart, she muttered her druidic chants, letting the magic of nature seep into him, trying to restore his life, though as before it was met with little effect. She finished, exhaling with great effort. "I have nothing left. He must recover from whatever had plagued his soul- I can do nothing for him."

"That's not good enough!" Aerie demanded, her fist trembling as she slammed it down, eyes red. "Try again!"

"I told you, I have nothing left!" Jaheira snapped, drawing close to Aerie. "Unless you think you can do better, in which case I would be pleased to see you try!"

"You wouldn't give me the chance if I asked!" Aerie sputtered, her small fist clenched at her side. "You don't trust anyone or anything but yourself! It's no wonder Yoshimo betrayed us-"

"Are you suggesting I was responsible for Yoshimo's betrayal?!" Jaheira questioned, eyes narrowing. "I warn you, do not test my patience further, child!"

"I am not your child!" Aerie growled. "I-I'm probably older than you, you witch! I am tired of your constant insults, berating and nagging! I am not going to sit here and let you make feel like dirt any longer! Do you think Greywulf will somehow be... impressed, by your putting me down?"

"Enough of this!" Keldorn said gruffly, putting a hand between the two women. "We cannot afford infighting amongst ourselves, not now. Settle your differences later, or we will not live long enough to do so!"

"If this uneducated little girl wants to challenge me because of my perceived intentions toward Greywulf, I will not back away-" Jaheira hissed, pushing a startled Keldorn back as the two leaned in towards each other, Minsc's eyes wide as he moved to intervene-

"Enough!!"

A flash of light and two globes of magic impacted both women, their voices abruptly cutting out. Both looked around in shock for a second, before seeing the source, an exhausted and worn Greywulf, barely conscious but leaning up on one elbow. His hand was outstretched, the magic of his silence spell still sparkling from his fingertips. "Now you both are going to listen to me and I'm going to get your word that there'll be no more of these arguments!"

He almost fell back over, but Minsc quickly helped him to his feet, supporting the worn but angry sorcerer. "Greywulf, you should rest-"

"No... we should have dealt with this long ago. I should have dealt with it." he growled, trying to focus as Minsc held on to him. "You... both of you, need to see past your preconceptions and end this childish bickering! I care for both of you, but I will not see the two of you killing each other because of a few words! Jaheira, Aerie is capable of more than you think. Give her the credit she is due, and the respect as well."

Jaheira merely continued to glare, but Greywulf said no more and turned to Aerie with an equally stern look. "Aerie… you may be upset and angry… but blaming Jaheira for your troubles or worries will help nothing! You ask her to treat you with respect? Learn to do the same, learn to let go of your anger and grudges towards her. I trust I am clear."

Greywulf raised a hand again briefly, waving it with a mutter of magic, dispelling his own magics and releasing their voices again. Both came to his side, exchanging one hard glance but immediately turning back to him, the sorcerer sagging to the ground with the exertion of their confrontation. "How are you feeling?' Aerie asked. "What happened in there? We heard... heard Irenicus torturing you. It sounded so terrible..."

"I... I can barely remember." Greywulf murmured. "He took... he took me. Emptied me... emptied me of everything. Everything."

"Greywulf, you are making no sense..." Jaheira frowned as Aerie whispered her own healings, trying to restore strength to his body. "What did Irenicus do to you?"

"To me? To me... me and Imoen." Greywulf said, his eyes narrowing as he looked at Jaheira, clarity coming in the midst of it all. "Did you know, Jaheira? Did you know?!"

"Greywulf, what are you talking about?" Jaheira asked, shaking her head in confusion. "Know what?"

"You knew about me... knew about me and didn't tell me. Had to find out through Gorion's letter... you and Khalid knew the whole time and never said a word." Greywulf whispered angrily. "Did you know about Imoen too? That... that why you're still here? Watching her like you did me?"

"About Imoen... I don't understand- by Silvanus, no." Jaheira's bronze skin abruptly turned ashen, realization coming to her. "Gorion didn't tell me. He never said anything about her to me. Believe me Greywulf... I had no idea."

"What... what is going on?" Minsc asked, nervously looking back and forth between Imoen and Greywulf. "What has happened to Imoen?"

"Imoen... she's a Bhaalspawn. Just like me." Greywulf said, a tear rolling from his eye as he began to fall into unconsciousness again. "And just like me... Irenicus stripped her. Took everything from her."

"What?" Keldorn asked in shock, leaning over to hear his shrinking voice.

"Our souls." Greywulf whispered before he faded again completely. "He took our souls."


	51. Part 2: A Bond Unbroken

Minsc sat beside Imoen in the small prison cell, one arm around her, holding her tightly. Not that she was any more responsive than before, but the physical contact, the presence of the big ranger beside her almost seemed to put her expression more at ease, calming the pain that was surely flowing through her broken mind. Every now and then he would glance down to her sadly, whispering a few words or platitudes of comfort to try and evoke a response, but to no avail. And so he remained there, stalwartly by Imoen's side, Boo snuffling about in Imoen's open hands, resting comfortably. Greywulf knelt by Imoen on the other side, his hands clasped over her head as he whispered magics and incantations, trying to pry his way past the mental defenses she had erected during their days of adventuring and discover what had been done to her; maintaining a balance of not disturbing the fragile psyche that lie beneath and getting through was a delicate thing; she had lashed out violently when he had slipped in his work, another one of the reasons Minsc held her so tightly.

Aerie sat by herself, her brow knit as she prepared her spellcraft for any possible escape. Or, that's what she was trying to do. She glanced up again, her blue eyes running over Jaheira and Keldorn. The two of them were talking quietly, watching the work Greywulf was doing with Imoen, discussing this or that and possible avenues of escape or action should the opportunity arise. She let her eyes rest a little longer over Jaheira... the memory of their argument hours prior still rang in her mind, a slight twitch crossing her mouth. She sighed, putting off any pretense of study. For some time afterward she had wanted to stay angry, to believe herself in the right... but it didn't take the wisdom of the gods to realize she had been just a bit irrational in her accusations and arguments. Not to say Jaheira had tried to defuse the situation either; the druid's temperament was not exactly a forgiving one. Anger, frustration, all of it had reached something of a boiling point back there... jealousy, maybe as well? Aerie tried to suppress a blush as she considered it.

Greywulf had made their relationship fairly clear; she had accepted it, but... but it would be lying to say she was completely over the feelings she held for the half-elf. Of course, she wasn't blind. The obvious regard in which he held Jaheira, even though she either seemed or acted completely oblivious to it, he was interested in her. And she was almost positive she knew it too.

But regardless of who knew what or felt this way or that, Greywulf had been right. Even exhausted, half-conscious, and missing his soul, he could still see clearly enough to stop their pointless bickering. Maybe it was time she saw with that kind of clarity too...

"-and despite my instruction, the girl never could learn how to use a quarterstaff." Jaheira remarked, holding back a chuckle as she spoke with Keldorn, both their eyes still on Imoen as Greywulf's search continued. "She preferred the bow... Khalid did everything he could to teach her, and she learned well. Still, her mind was as quick as any I have seen; to pick up magic so quickly under Greywulf's tutelage..."

"She must have been quite the gifted learner." Keldorn noted.

"Or Greywulf the gifted teacher." Jaheira considered, and then glanced at Keldorn. "You won't tell him I said that, of course."

"Of course." Keldorn smiled tightly. "But, eh... I think I shall join the others for the moment. Excuse me."

Jaheira frowned slightly at his abrupt departure, but her eyes narrowed with understanding as Aerie drew close, sitting beside her without a word. The two exchanged a glance, but remained silent, both their eyes immediately diverting to something else. Aerie watched Greywulf with growing interest as he slowly removed his hands from the sides of Imoen's head, the glow surrounding her fading... but there was no change. Greywulf said something inaudible to them as he looked up at Minsc. A sigh escaped Jaheira's lips as she watched, obviously disappointed at the outcome. Aerie turned to the druid and gave a tiny smile, hoping it would be taken in as comforting a manner as she was meaning. "Don't worry... Greywulf will find a way to heal her."

Jaheira listened, but answered with little more than a nod, turning back to the sight before her. Aerie cursed inwardly; of course she wasn't going to make it easy. The elf steeled herself, then exhaled deeply. "Jaheira?"

"What?" she raised one eyebrow, turning to face Aerie again. "Something you wanted?"

"Yes..." Aerie bit her lip unconsciously, trying to figure out the best way to say it- but the direct routes were sometimes the best. "I came to apologize."

"What I said back there... blaming you for Yoshimo... I was angry. Frustrated that... that after all we'd been through, Yoshimo still betrayed us. I didn't... didn't trust people easily. Not after the slavers caught me. It took me forever to learn to trust Uncle Quayle, and learning to trust you and the others was hard for me as well. Just when I thought I could finally let go, release all my doubts... but it's no excuse. I lost my temper and I guess... I blamed myself. I can see now, all the times Yoshimo gave himself away, all the times that if I had been watching like... well, like you, I might've seen it coming. I didn't, and I needed to blame someone. It shouldn't have been you- I'm sorry, Jaheira." Aerie said, finishing when she could think of nothing left to say.

Inwardly, she braced herself for the verbal lecture; the growl of righteous indignation from Jaheira, knowing that she was not only within her right to be upset, but probably still there as well. So she sat there silently, waiting for Jaheira to speak, to say something… anything.

"You did well, Aerie." Jaheira had bowed her head, her long fingers tracing one of the faded scars that ran across her arm. "With Imoen, I mean. She was never responsive to Minsc until you acted with your own skills; Greywulf is undoubtedly building his efforts upon what you did previously."

Aerie nodded cautiously, unsure of what Jaheira was getting at. She had expected many things from her… ignoring her, forgiveness, even complete hostility… but this was not one of them.

"Uh, thank you." Aerie said nervously.

Jaheira looked up at Aerie as though analyzing her, and then said, "You have grown much since we first met, Aerie. What you said to me before, I was rather convinced you had learned absolutely nothing in the time you had spent with us… or that you had grown stupider, one of the two. But this… coming to me, swallowing your pride and taking the first step to apologize… that requires both bravery and strength of character. I have been harsh with you, true enough. But... perhaps you do not understand my motivations. If you would listen, I would explain."

Aerie was taken by surprise, hearing the normally harsh woman speak in such a controlled, even tone to her. She nodded, to where Jaheira continued, "I… I have seen many friends die. Lost or gone… it matters not. Every new person I meet, every friend I take into my trust, into my life is another who might be torn in this battle again, taken by violence and death. Where I may seem demanding, harsh even, it is not because I dislike you… though I think we may have garnered those feelings already."

Aerie smiled in spite of herself, whereupon Jaheira continued, "You are not the inexperienced girl you once were, Aerie; I see that without a doubt. But no matter what, I will still try to save you the heartache and torture I have undergone… to save you the suffering I have experienced."

"I… think I understand, Jaheira." Aerie said carefully. "But you can't protect everyone... death is a part of life, isn't it? I'll have to see it eventually, and if I'm not prepared by the past, how will I be strong enough for the future?"

"Death is an integral portion of the great cycle, you are correct." Jaheira admitted. "Though to say it is easy; to live it is much more difficult."

"You've built so much strength through your life though... strength enough to help others, even when it might not always be best." Aerie offered. "Trying to shelter and save everyone may hurt rather than harm; surely it must wear on you."

Jaheira listened, then shrugged, hearing her words. "Perhaps… but I do not think I can change. It is who I am, how I cope with my inner demons. I do not know if we will be much more than companions, Aerie. We may not be friends... but do you recall when I said you had yet to earn my trust? No longer. You have earned it, far and beyond anything I could have required of you."

Aerie managed a smile, "Thank you, Jaheira. That… it means a lot to me."

She stood to walk away, then considered one last thing, a final statement to cement their newfound terms of respect- "And don't worry… I won't try and stand in your way any more… I can see that it's you Greywulf feels for, not me."

Jaheira's eyes instantly gained that look Aerie had come to dread again; the elf winced, knowing she had said just a hair too much. "Aerie…" Jaheira's voice contained a slight edge, "I have said it before, and I will repeat myself one more time… there is _nothing_ between Greywulf and I. Nothing. We both understand our relationship perfectly well, and while we may be close friends, romantically involved we are not, especially not so soon. Do you understand?"

"Y-Yes. I think I'll go see how Imoen's doing." Aerie said hastily, standing and leaving before she said anything else.

Jaheira watched her leave, shaking her head in disbelief. _Has the world gone mad? I don't believe this. I'm surrounded by the blind. Aerie, Greywulf, both thinking that I'm interested in a relationship of… of romantic inclination? Absurd! At least I was able to straighten Greywulf out before he grew too deep into such madness. _

Jaheira turned to Greywulf, watching him as he frowned, noting the things he had discovered while probing Imoen's mind. Jaheira smiled wryly, letting the idea of such a relationship, with Greywulf no less, wander through her head once more. She shook her head, mumbling to herself. "Ridiculous…"

X X X X X X X

_No doubt these texts will prove to be an embarrassing legacy, but I must order my thoughts herein, lest they spill from my accursed mind. Spellhold is in my control. Once recovered from my torpor I made short work of what defenses there were. Coordinator Wanev conveniently removed himself, suffering a peculiar reaction to a particular spell of mine. I forget what it was; perhaps something I heard in the temples of Suldenesselar…does it even matter now? My condition grows worse, and what I remember of my 'home' is fleeting. I see images of family whose names I cannot recall, and dream of emotions I can no longer feel as vividly. On occasion I sense nature as if she is my mother, as though never removed from her bosom, but such moments are few. I bear the hallmarks of senility with the rage and power of a young elf to lament it._

_Bodhi endured the curse much better than I do now, but she was more focused, and more importantly, undead. She is now thoroughly seduced by her vampire condition, despite its previous failure to counteract the death sentence she was under. She had embraced her mortality, excited by the urgency of it, but now she is confused. Imoen's soul has restored her, but her motives remain transparent, even simplistic. She revels in her carnal nature, embracing death, destruction and twisted forms of pleasure even as the elf within despises the creature she has become. I would pity my 'sister' if I were able, but emotions come to me only in violent outbursts. Ellesime has taken my ability to truly feel, and I am left with the threadbare heart of a human, or some other short-lived vermin. I will not suffer this much longer._

_Spellhold has met my needs quite well. They had made a practice of experimenting on inmates here for quite some time, though in a barbaric fashion. I have refined their instruments, and prepare the necessary rituals. I am quite through with Imoen, though she can still serve as bait, as well as whatever twisted purpose Bodhi deigns to use her for. I know not, and do not truly care. Greywulf will come sooner or later._

_Bodhi has delivered more assassins than I had asked for. I disposed of some in advance, but it seems such a waste. I think she has done this on purpose, as she has taken to releasing the extras in the maze below and hunting at her leisure. I marvel at her hunger, and how she seems so alive in her undeath. Perhaps it is the soul of Imoen. Soon I shall see for myself, Greywulf had best hurry._

_Victory! I am restored! Greywulf has given me exactly what I needed, exactly as I demanded, and now I see where Bodhi has found such fire! I feel the essence of the gods within me! Damn Ellesime's curse for the weak-minded spell it was; now I am free. Greywulf did not make proper use of the heritage given to him. Now comes the time of retribution. I will not allow such a crime to go unpunished. The audacity of Ellesime, claiming my punishment was just, and the hypocrisy of 'my' people, accepting such an act while decrying mine. I will not let this rest. I will take what I intended, and those that would stand before me will fall as they should. Today is a much better day. I will act at my leisure._

_The tiefling, Haer'Dalis, will serve quite well in my further experiments. The blood of one who has resided in the planes for so long will prove an excellent specimen; I must know how the inhabitants of the outer realms react to quick and sudden entry into the Prime. When I have reached my former home, I will need to strike quickly; there will be no time for delays or long preparation. Summonings must be both swift and powerful; pathetic as my old brethren may be, they will defend their home with ferocity like no other race. Still, they will be caught unaware and unprepared for my assault, especially when I have enlisted the black wyrm's-_

"Enjoying the read?"

Irenicus' cold and very displeased sounding voice turned the tiefling around from the desk he was hunched over at, flipping through the leather-bound journal. Haer'Dalis turned from the book, leaving the pages where they were as he turned around to face the approaching wizard, a knowing smile creeping across the bard's face. "Quite, if you must know. My my... it seems that the cold-hearted vulture has something of an intriguing past. I must say, I did not see you as the... elven, type."

Irenicus snarled a curse as fire and lightning lit in his hands, hurtling across the room towards Haer'Dalis. The tiefling leapt aside, barely avoiding immolation by the powerful spells; he came up in a roll, clutching the blades he had found along with the rest of his gear outside his prison of glass. He pushed himself forward from the crouch he had landed in and lunged at Irenicus, but a globe of magic enveloped the wizard, throwing Haer'Dalis to the side with ease. Irenicus turned back to the bard, a confident smirk replacing the anger that had so quickly flashed over his expression; instead of lashing out with destructive forces as before, his spells exploded all around Haer'Dalis, sending the bard flying though not permanently injured.

"You escaped my prison. How?"

"Come now, Irenicus." he grunted, struggling to his feet again. "Surely I would not tell the tales of my escape to the man who had captured me; do you take for a fool?"

"Says the one who wastes valuable time peering through journals when he could be fleeing with his life." Irenicus said darkly, a burst of lightning catching the back of Haer'Dalis' leg and sending him tumbling. "Why? Why risk your life for a taste of knowledge that will ultimately prove useless, knowing what your end will be when I am through with you?"

Haer'Dalis did not answer; he merely staggered to his feet once more, limping profusely he made another swing, one of his blades missing Irenicus by a wide margin. The wizard dodged to the side, then muttered an incantation, sheathing his fist in flame. He slammed it into Haer'Dalis, knocking him completely off his feet. Irenicus sneered at the fallen bard, preparing to imprison him again... he frowned as Haer'Dalis stirred again, obviously dizzy and weak, but once again lashing out, his blade coming nowhere near the mage. Irenicus arched an eye; his foot kicked one of the blades from Haer'Dalis' grasp. "Give up, bard... your attempts are futile."

Another blast of magic and the bard was sent flying across the room, limp in one corner... Irenicus barked a laugh as he watched Haer'Dalis slowly but surely begin crawling... back towards the open journal on the desk. Jon Irenicus walked to the desk, picking up the leather book and holding it aloft, Haer'Dalis' eyes following it's every movement. "You want this, tiefling?"

He nodded an eager yes, feebly reaching out to it; his eyes widened in despair as Irenicus' hands lit up with flame, consuming the pages until there was naught but ash. He shouted a strangled cry as he jumped to his feet and charged- Irenicus' fist closed around Haer'Dalis' throat, the wizard pushing him back to slam into a wall. "Why, bard? Why were those words so important to you?" he asked darkly, though a hint of genuine curiosity could be heard in the villain's tone.

"Thgh... storghh..." he choked out, Irenicus slowly loosening his grip as Haer'Dalis dropped to the ground, looking up at Irenicus with anger in his beaten face. "What?"

"The... the story." Haer'Dalis spat. "A bard lives and dies by the story; the characters and players change, but the story must remain, must be told... and by the things you have done... yours must be the greatest story of all."

Irenicus regarded him with a strange look for a moment... another blast of magic and Haer'Dalis fell limp, half-dead and unconscious. "Fool." Irenicus growled, dragging him back to his glass prison and tossing him in, sans any equipment he had retrieved while free. "My story is death. Learn it if you will, bard- you will live it before the end."

X X X X X X X

Greywulf watched with a shiver, trying to keep the growing despair from his mind and body as he looked at Imoen. Minsc still held her tightly, his hand clutching hers as he tried with all his might to bring her back to reality, if by nothing else than force of will. Aerie was trying again, still trying to find the key to unlocking her mind's damage, but so far neither of the two mages had been successful. Progress, true... the small pieces of progress were the only things giving them hope that Imoen might eventually be restored.

"How is she?" Jaheira's quiet yet concerned voice caught him by surprise; he turned to Jaheira, standing beside him in the far corner of their cell.

"I... I don't know. I can feel her mental pathways... her mind, it's been damaged- splintered, almost. The pathways of her mind, the mental roads she has have been… attacked, damaged. She can't keep anything together, her thoughts are... incoherent."

"Can you do anything for her?" she asked, unable to keep the worry out of her accent.

Greywulf opened his mouth... he shrugged helplessly. "I can't. Not alone. My magic is strong- I can do my best to help, I can knit the pathways together, I can reattach her mind's structure, but it'll be only a temporary fix. I see no signs of the mental strength she'll need to keep her mind whole; without an equal effort on her part, I'm powerless to help."

His head dropped, obviously overcome with his seeming failure to aid his sister. He looked up, eyes glimmering with unshed tears as he looked away, trying to hold back the swell of emotions. "Gods... it's not fair. We come all this way, try so hard to find her... and I can't even save her. I can't do a damn thing to help her. My own sister, damn it!"

Jaheira laid one hand on his shoulder, Greywulf exhaling deeply, trying to release the despair within. "Greywulf... you have done all you can. We will find a way to help her; do not be afraid. Do not be afraid..."

He nodded, listening to her repeat the phrase quietly, the sound of her voice soothing to the spirit as she subtly worked her own magics, druidic power seeping into her voice as it calmed him, a gentle wind and whisper that flowed through his soul and covered over some of the despair in his heart as his eyes fluttered, slowly closing- she stopped abruptly, his posture immediately coming alert, eyes wide as he realized what she had been doing. He smiled slightly, nodding in gratitude. "Thank you... I'm sorry; I didn't mean to unload on you-"

"Do not apologize, or I will hurt you." she warned. "You are what you are... you cannot take the whole world upon your shoulders, as much as you foolishly try."

"I can try." he retorted defiantly, though there was a hint of playfulness in his tone, enough to elicit a possible chuckle from Jaheira had she not hidden it behind a cough. "But... in all seriousness. I do apologize, for earlier... accusing you of knowing about Imoen."

"You had every right to wonder." Jaheira shook her head. "I knew of your heritage and did not tell you- I might've known about Imoen as well. No... Gorion never spoke of her to me. Funny how the thought never crossed my mind though... I would never have imagined her as a Bhaalspawn."

"Not I." he agreed sadly. "The real question still remains though... why? Why us, two Bhaalspawn?"

"You said he mentioned a curse... a curse that was wrought against him and Bodhi, and that was now yours and Imoen's to bear." Jaheira frowned. "What manner of curse would require the full transfer of something so great as a soul?"

"Curious little mice, aren't you? You should learn to accept what you're told and not ask questions... your tiefling friend learned that the hard way."

The darkness outside their cell seemed to warp, becoming fluid as Bodhi appeared, slinking back and forth outside their cell. Keldorn's eyes narrowed as he stood, defiant and proud against her evil. "We will fight you to the end, Bodhi. Weapons or not, if you have come to kill us, it will not be the slaughter you hope for."

"Brave words, paladin, and they tempt me to test them... but I have a better plan. Irenicus has given me leave to do whatever I like with you... all of you. I've made my decision. One that will be so much more entertaining than a simple feeding frenzy from my cabal." Bodhi laughed as the magic wall enclosing them dropped, a dozen vampires appearing and securing them; there was no chance of making an escape without being torn apart by their foes. Bodhi moved them, their whole group, Minsc still carrying Imoen in his arms, through the dark tunnels of Spellhold.

A light at the end of the blackened hall was quickly approaching; Greywulf focused his eyes, trying to adjust to the light after being in the dark for so long- he tumbled into open space, the portal they entered having no floor, only a twenty-five foot drop to a hard stone ground. He twisted his body one way as he fell, trying not to land on anything serious- he hit with a thud, tears coming to his eyes with the stinging pain. Four similar thuds landed beside him, though as if by miracle there was no telltale sound of cracking bone. Greywulf tried to gather himself, peering up at Bodhi who stood above at the open door, staring down in triumph.

"And so does your life come to an end." Bodhi called to her captives. "A pity. You have proven resilient beyond all expectations. It is… appealing to me."

"Appealing enough that you should allow us to live?" Greywulf asked, cautious at what was taking place.

Bodhi laughed and said, "Not quite so much as that, though I am quite willing to postpone your death for the sake of my own goals. Your abilities have piqued my interest, and since you are to die, I would have you do it in an entertaining fashion. Irenicus can be so dour when he wishes. He is set upon revenge for his banishment and can think of nothing else. A failing of his mind remaining flesh, I suspect. Undeath has given me focus, and an interest in the abilities of powerful creatures. An interest in all of you. I will make your death glorious, as well as entertaining."

With that, Bodhi signaled to the vampires behind her, who then tossed down five bundles, their respective weapons tied to their equipment. "You'll find all your old belongings inside and your weapons in good condition as well." Bodhi sneered, a feral glint in her glittering obsidian eyes.

Greywulf picked up his quarterstaff, examined it and said back to Bodhi, "Do your worst, devil. You are a fool to give us our weapons back. Do you think we fear you?"

Bodhi laughed again, and said, "You should fear me. You must run my gauntlet to prolong your life. You must do so knowing you have but the slimmest chance to make a difference. Do you see this passage before you? It is the darkest part of the asylum and its history; a test of clarity for its prisoners, by a director who delighted in dissecting the mind. Now he is under my… influence, and this place is mine to control. It is a masterpiece of madness, one that you will come to know intimately. It has been some time since I have given chase to a worthy foe; Shadow Thieves and Cowled Wizards have been set loose down here, all of whom met their end long before reaching the end of this maze. Some died by my hand... others wished for so quick a death. Enter the maze of this place and seek an exit; I give you time to run, after which I will come to feed."

"So this is all just a hunt for you? A gruesome taunt before you kill us?" Jaheira growled. "If you seek to end our lives, do it now and without such theatrics."

"You are not running solely for my benefit," Bodhi chuckled, "I give you reason as well, to make the hunt more desperate. You may yet foil Irenicus, though the chance is small. His plans will take time, just about as long as my hunt. Run my gauntlet, and die. Or live... it is up to you. The hunt will begin in twenty-four hours. Make the most of your time."

Bodhi backed away, slowly disappearing into the blackness behind her. They waited for a moment, ensuring she did not launch some sort of assault when their back was turned- an explosion rocked the corridor she had just left, undoubtedly collapsing the tunnel. Any chance they had held of escaping the way they came in was thwarted; Greywulf swore and turned to the others. "It doesn't look like we have much of a choice, does it."

"You know she will never allow us to leave this place alive." Keldorn warned. "Any appearance of choice or freedom is an illusion; just another game before she decides she's had enough fun."

"Minsc is no toy for the wicked." he seethed, slowly releasing Imoen from his arms as he set her down, the girl's expression just as hollow as ever. He had twisted midfall to protect her; undoubtedly taking a worse landing than the others to do so. "Greywulf... we must heal Imoen and escape! Boo says we do not have much time; please help her."

"I... I don't know if I can, Minsc." Greywulf shook his head, kneeling beside Imoen one more time. "I've tried and tried to heal her mind, to bring her back to coherency... but nothing's helped. Imoen's got to heal herself..."

"We can't take her with us like this." Keldorn said with a frown. "If we are to survive, she must be coherent and able to fight; we would fall defending her otherwise. Bodhi will exploit her presence- she gave her to us, knowing this from the start."

"We believe in you." Minsc said gravely. "If anyone can help Imoen, you can... you are her brother. In Rashemen, brothers in arms and by blood do not give up on each other. You will not give up on her either."

He listened... then nodded with a smile. "No... no, I guess I won't. We've got twenty-four hours; I'd better get started."

He closed his eyes, placing both hands over her temples, murmuring words of magic and incantations- the outside world faded and darkness took it as his mind left the world of the living and descended into Imoen's thoughts, slowly creeping through and seeking her out-

Hours passed as he sat alone, never moving from the position he had started with. Nervous glances were exchanged between those that kept watch, growing more nervous with each minute that passed, yet unable to help. Jaheira's brow knit as she watched the two Bhaalspawn together, one working so desperately to save the life of the other. Ironic, really, she thought as she considered them. The two should not have been so close... the tales and prophecies spoke of their combat, spoke of the wars between the children of Bhaal, not friendship or compassion. The relationship was to be like that of Sarevok, not of these two, who shared so much love and warmth.

They would never cease to amaze her... or frighten her. Greywulf alone scared her at times... in more ways than one. She didn't miss the looks he continued to send her direction; not that they were what frightened her, more so that she did not know what to make of them. She'd made her feelings known quite clearly, and it was testament to that fact that he had said no more about their encounter in Aran's guild. But it was clear to her, his feelings were not gone. He still looked at her with that compassion, that... that look in his eyes that half-embarrassed her, half-flattered her.

She was roused to alertness as she saw Greywulf stir, his hands slowly dropping away as he leaned away. She headed over towards him, releasing any lingering thoughts of their former altercation from her mind. Regardless of the past or future, she was needed in the present, needed by him. And for now... she would be there. For now.

"Greywulf?" Aerie had one hand on his shoulder, trying to get his wavering attention. "What happened? Are you all right?"

"I... she- Imoen." His eyes cleared and widened his expression firm. "I found her... her consciousness. It's still intact... still there. But they... they broke her. She's there, but I can't bring her back on my own."

"We can't keep waiting." Keldorn shook his head. "What can be done?"

"I... I can keep trying, but my magics are only so strong." he said, glancing at the others. "I just... I can't do it. Not by myself."

"Then you will not be by yourself." Minsc declared, kneeling beside the two of them. "We will come with you. Bring us and we both will come and bring Imoen home."

"As shall I." Jaheira knelt down. "Can you do it? Can you bring us with you as you go into her mind? Perhaps with all three of us... perhaps it will be enough."

"It might be..." Greywulf considered, a worried expression crossing his face. "It's hard enough maintaining myself in her mind, the framework is so splintered and my healings will only last so long... but I can bring all of us. There's a chance that we... all of us, if we can't help her out, if we don't have her own help in leaving her mind... we might be stuck with her."

"Minsc has never backed down before, nor will he today." he said. "His mind is not as strong as his sword... but it does not matter. Bring us."

Greywulf exhaled, and then turned to Keldorn and Aerie. "Watch us... make sure the spells aren't interrupted. With any luck, we'll see you on the other side."

"The blessings of the gods upon you, friends." Keldorn smiled tightly, shaking Greywulf's hand.

"Be careful..." Aerie whispered as Greywulf began his spells, Minsc, Jaheira and Imoen all engulfed together, minds joining together as one...

X X X X X X X

_A quiver ran through her body as she lay there, curled up and alone. Her hands and arms were wrapped around her head and upper body, shielding her face from any possible light, from anything that could harm her. She was surrounded by darkness; the paths of light that had once been there, the glimmers she had once reached for were long gone. Too much pain... too much pain and agony to keep trying. So she continued to hide, trying to keep the demons away, the devils who would torment her whenever the light touched her-_

_A sound touched her hearing, an echo in the dark. She wrapped her arms around herself tighter, trying to make it go away, but it persisted. Kept coming, kept growing louder and louder, until it was a roar in her unaccustomed hearing-_

_The sound of something tearing ripped across her plane of existence, a blast of light falling across her as she lay there. She shrieked in fear as the light touched her; she scrambled away from it, pushing herself back until she was firmly in shadow again. She couldn't be in the light; the light meant bad things were coming. A trick of the mind, if she just hid it might go away-_

_"Imoen!!" _

_The voice that called was familiar, enticing, calling her to look at the source... no. A trick. She knew what came afterwards, she knew what would come if she tried to look. She wouldn't do it. Wouldn't look-_

_"Imoen." the voice was quieter, but gentler this time. Close by. Right next to her. She squeezed her eyes tighter, trying with all her might to keep them closed, if she kept them closed nothing could hurt her and nothing would come... she felt a gentle touch on her shoulder, and despite all her attempts to stop... she looked up. _

_Greywulf's face held a smile as he looked down at her, his hand resting gently on her. "Sister."_

_"G... greywulf?" she whispered, accepting his hand as she slowly stood up, shaky on her feet. "Why... why are you here? You've got to go away! Leave, or they'll come and the pain-"_

_"No, Imoen." he cut her off. "It's time to go home. I'm here to take you back... the light beckons, and so does freedom."_

_"I can't." she whispered, taking a step away from the blinding tear of light in the distance. "I've seen it before... it hurts. Every time I go to it, it hurts. They come, and they hurt me until I make it go away." _

_"Who does?" Greywulf frowned- Imoen's face erupted in terror as she scrambled away. "Who do you think, foolish boy?"_

_Bodhi's voice caught him off guard as he whirled, taken by surprise as Bodhi landed beside him, licking her lips. "My my... I didn't expect to find you here. Trying to free your sister? Impossible."_

_"It's not impossible!" Greywulf called out to the quavering Imoen as he circled between the two, keeping himself between Bodhi and Imoen... just like his dream. "They can't keep you here, like this. You have the power to leave! The power to save yourself!"_

_"Have you seen where we are?" Bodhi laughed, taking a playful swipe at Greywulf, the sorcerer taking a step back to dodge. "She's long lost the strength to repair her mind... I made sure of it."_

_"She might not have the strength... but I did. Her mind's repaired... if she can free herself from this little prison you've constructed for her, she'll never be trapped by your tortures again." Greywulf said in triumph, Bodhi snarling as Greywulf's hands lit up with magic and power, sending her on the defensive. "You hear me, Imoen? It's over! You can leave- no more pain, no more suffering or being alone! Just leave!"_

_"I can't..." Imoen cried out, shaking as she watched her brother and Bodhi duel back and forth, continually striking out at each other. "I'm not... not strong enough..."_

_"You are!" Greywulf roared, slamming one fist down as a burst of lightning crackled over what passed for the ground, throwing Bodhi aside. "They can't stop you! They're not even real! You're the one who controlls them! They only come now because you create them! Because you expect them to!"_

_"I beg to differ, god-child." _

_Irenicus materialized before Greywulf, slamming one fist into his face and knocking him to the ground. Another leap from Bodhi trapped him, his arms locked behind him as Irenicus approached, eyeing Imoen dubiously. "You have no power here, Greywulf. We will kill you, and then Imoen."_

_"You see?!" Imoen cried hysterically. "They're too strong... too strong for you or me!"_

_"They might be..." Greywulf said as he struggled on the ground- before looking up with a wink and a smile. "That's why I brought help."_

_Imoen's face blossomed in both hope and disbelief as Minsc and Jaheira appeared behind them, Jaheira's spear slamming into Bodhi's back, Minsc's sword cleaving Irenicus in two. The two shrieked and vanished, nothing more than wisps of smoke. Minsc helped Greywulf to his feet, the three standing as one before Imoen. "You have the power, Imoen... you can leave at any time. It's your choice... but you have to make it."_

_"Come back to us, child." Jaheira said warmly, her green eyes shining with hope. "We're waiting for you..."_

_"Minsc has not given up on you, Imoen." he extended one hand, the ranger beaming with pride. "Minsc will never give up on you-"_

_"Fools!!" Irenicus shouted a challenge as he and Bodhi appeared again, knocking Minsc aside as the ranger drew his blade again. Bodhi landed beside Greywulf and Jaheira, lashing out at the two of them as the five engaged in combat, Imoen still watching in fear and hesitation. "You will never be rid of us... you will always be trapped! Always!"_

_"That's a lie!" Greywulf shouted back. "This is... this is your mind, Imoen! Yours! You have the power here, not them! They can only come back as long as you let them! Leave and their power is broken!"_

_He was cut off by a slam of the fist from Bodhi into his gut, the vampire turning to Imoen with a withering glare. "Forget his lies, girl... curl up, hide in your misery and pray we forget about you when we are finished with these fools."_

_A battle cry from Minsc echoed over the void as he cut down Bodhi, her vapor melting away and forming a distance away once more. "No! We will not leave here without you! Run, Imoen... run!"_

_His words caught her... watching as the two villains slowly beat down those she called friend. It was useless, a vain hope; she would fail, and they would never be back for her... she couldn't do it. Couldn't do it... but maybe it was worth it. The pain might be worth it. One more time. One last chance. She took a step forward, one foot at a time, moving away from the battle and towards the light in the distance, that hope in the dark..._

_"Where do you think you're going?" Bodhi landed before her, raising her claws menacingly. "You're pathetic. A worthless excuse for a life. You can't save them. They can't save you. You're trapped."_

_Imoen's resolve faltered, ready to run and give up right there... Greywulf's words somehow ran through her mind again. Her mind. Her power. She looked up at Bodhi with red eyes, her voice shaky but loud and growing stronger. "N-no! I won't run anymore... no more! I beat you... beat you in the real world! This is my mind... this is my mind and you have no power!"_

_Imoen lowered her shoulder and started running, Bodhi shrieking as Imoen ran straight through her, her form vanishing... this time for good. Her eyes widened with hope as the light drew closer, so near-_

_"Come now child... let this end." _

_His voice was like the melting of her bones; she halted and had to force herself to stay there, not to run in fear. Irenicus stood before her, shaking one finger. "No, no... you can't go home. It's over."_

_Imoen glanced over her shoulder, eyes watering as she saw her three comrades still fighting... but losing. "They've failed. You've failed. They'll never come for you again, and you'll be here forever. Accept it..."_

X X X X X X X

Aerie looked at Keldorn with fear, watching as the four that sat there before them shook, frowns and grimaces of pain on their faces. Greywulf's hands were quivering, and the light of his magic, so strong to begin with, was faint and growing dimmer by the second. Jaheira slowly collapsed, Keldorn leaning over to catch her and set her down gently, the light completely leaving her hands and head.

"We have to do something!" Aerie cried out. "Whatever... whatever's going on in there, they're losing!"

Keldorn's mind raced, trying to think of something, anything that could be done for them... "Aerie... can you go? Can you enter Imoen's mind?"

The elf shook her head in fear. "No... no, I can't. I tried before, but I couldn't concentrate on keeping myself inside while maintaining the spell."

Keldorn listened, then nodded. "Then send me."

"You?" Aerie asked in surprise. "I guess... I could maintain the spell and you could concentrate on keeping yourself inside..."

"Do it." Keldorn said, kneeling beside Imoen, steeling himself as Aerie started chanting-

X X X X X X X

_Imoen stumbled back, Irenicus' blow sending her flying. "You're worse than Greywulf. At least he put up a fight when I took his soul." Irenicus sneered. "Look at them. You've failed. They came here to save you, and you couldn't even run. That was all you had to do. Pathetic."_

_Imoen watched in horror as Minsc dropped to his knees, wavering beside Jaheira's limp body... he caught Imoen's eyes once... with a final comforting smile Minsc fell, gone from her mind._

_"Only your brother remains. Do you think him strong enough to stand against me? You are of no help... he will fail, he will fall, and you will die." he said calmly, slowly driving her back. "It's over, Imoen... you have lost."_

_Imoen continued backpedaling in fear, watching in despair as the light grew fainter and farther away- the feel of a solid hand at her back took her by surprise; she whirled to see a gray haired knight behind her, clad in heavy plate armor. His face bored several scars, but he was not frightening... no, she could feel by his simple presence that he was no threat. "He's wrong, Imoen. Greywulf was right. You have the power to leave this place. This is your world; take control of it."_

_"Stay out of this!" Irenicus roared, lunging at Keldorn. The paladin blocked a bolt of flame with his sword, turning back to Imoen with a grim smile. "You can do it. Take command... force these devils out. Force them out and take back your life-"_

_He was cut off by Irenicus, the wizard pressing hard against him in combat. The two stumbled back and forth across the plain of her mind, Imoen watching in fear as their duel surged towards the inevitable outcome. Irenicus would win, and she would be trapped here again... but it didn't have to be that way. None of it did. This was... this was her mind. Hers. She was the one in control. Would she dare to believe it? Could she... all she had to do was try. One more time. _

_Irenicus batted aside a sword lunge from Keldorn, forcing the paladin back and into the ground. He leaned atop Keldorn, his fist clamped down on the paladin's throat, squeezing his life away; Keldorn forced out a laugh, turning his head towards Imoen. _

_Irenicus turned to watch, his eyes widening as he saw Imoen racing towards the light, nearly obscured by the blinding shine that welcomed her into it's embrace- he looked back down at Keldorn, a triumphant smile crossing the paladin's face. "Irenicus... you lose."_

_Irenicus shattered with a scream, his pieces flying through the void._


	52. Part 2: No Rest for the Weary

_Author's Note: Wow... long time between updates, eh? I'll see about getting myself back up to speed on this thing. We are, however, nearing the halfway point of the story, which would never have come about without all the awesome readers and especially reviewers out there. You guys rock! I'm a little iffy about this chapter... not sure why, though. Please let me know if anything seems off to y'all.  
_

_Oh, and in regards to the reference of a certain game variant later on in the chapter, in case anyone was wondering, it does exist. Most folks have never played it, but it is awesome. Heh. Enjoy!  
_

There exists a fine line between dreaming and reality, a line so thin that the plausibility of whole new worlds and realities inside of dreams is not dismissed entirely. She remembered a battle, a struggle in her own mind; the scream of her foes as she vanished into the light's embrace. Now instead of blinding light, there was darkness. But this darkness she recognized; her eyes were clenched shut, her mind commanding her eyes to open, but not quite succeeding. She was afraid. Afraid that it had all been just that: a dream, nothing more, nothing less. That she were still trapped in her prison of her thoughts, unable to break free.

If that was truly the case... she couldn't bear it. She'd rather die than be disappointed now, after such torment. So long as she kept her eyes closed, didn't open them... there was a chance. A chance she could be free. The truth was a scary thing, and she wasn't quite ready to face it.

Faint murmurs could be heard beside her; that had never happened while trapped. Hope began to trickle in once more, the girl allowing herself to believe that maybe... maybe it was real. She felt the touch of someone's fingers touching her forehead, whispers of magic being spoken above her. _Please... please let it be real. Let it be real._

Her eyes finally began to open, fluttering as they adjusted to the light, trying to focus on the blurred visions before her. It was a gray-robed half-elf who had been whispering incantations over her, the long strands of his brown hair dropping over the front of his face as he looked at her in concern, one hand ready at the belt he wore, containing potions and pouches of different sorts and content. He was... he was familiar. So was the woman behind him, even as she nervously watched on, fingering a spear shaft in one hand.

So hard... so hard to remember. But there was another, the big man that was holding one of her hands. His smile was so warm, so comforting. That odd purple tattoo on his head was almost enough to make her laugh- what was that fuzzy, tickling feeling she had? A hamster's paws, crawling up and down her chin, tickling her neck with its fur and whiskers. Boo, that was it. If that's right, then he would be… Minsc. And she would be Jaheira. And him… "Brother." Imoen whispered, looking at Greywulf with new clarity.

"Imoen." he choked out, leaning down and embracing her tightly.

"Greywulf! Gods... it's you!! All of you..." Imoen cried with joy as she returned the gesture, the two siblings reunited at long last. Imoen released him with great relief, whirling to take in the others who stood there as well, unable to stop the flow of tears that ran from her eyes. Jaheira watched with what might possibly be construed as motherly pride, as though seeing something once lost become found. Minsc roared with laughter and happiness, embracing the four of them in his massive arms. Aerie and Keldorn exchanged knowing glances as they watched; despite everything they'd each sacrificed and lost for these four, once upon a time strangers... it was all worth it.

"I don't... how... I missed you all so much." Imoen wept, still holding Greywulf tightly as he held her close.

"Our friend Imoen has been returned! Evil beware, for we are a group of one once again, and the butt kicking will begin anew, this Minsc swears! (Though anew was Boo's word, not mine)." Minsc said grandly, pumping one fist in the air as he shouted his battle cry.

"You led us on quite the hunt, child." Jaheira said, one eyebrow arched, doing her best to conceal the joy in her voice with the tone of her dry wit. "Enough so that I rather doubt Greywulf, Minsc, or I myself will let you out our sight for the next few days. We escape a dungeon and the first thing you do is get captured. How you get along without us is beyond me…"

Imoen rolled her eyes with a tearful laugh and leapt at Jaheira, embracing the druid as Jaheira started in surprise, then chuckled as they rocked back and forth in a mutual embrace.

"I'm sorry Imoen... sorry we weren't fast enough." Greywulf managed as Imoen released Jaheira and turned back to him. "I never meant for you to endure the kind of torture you did..."

"But that is in the past." Jaheira cut him off sharply, quickly directing the conversation from any dark tones or subjects too soon. "What matters now is escaping this place... all of us. We have much to do."

"Jaheira's right." Greywulf exhaled, still clutching one of Imoen's hands as he looked over her features, eyes still blinking away the remaining tears of joy. "Imoen... I hate to ask you this, but what do you remember of this place? Anything that might tell us where we are?"

"I... I remember it all." Imoen said slowly, her expression falling as she relived the numerous memories, all of them unwanted, she had accrued at Spellhold. "Bodhi mentioned... she talked about this place to me. We're in the underground maze, aren't we? She never... never told me how to get out, but she did tell me a few things. We don't have much time."

"Don't worry... we will not let those vampires touch you again!" Minsc growled. "They will feel my wrath and that of all of us before you come to harm a second time! So swears Minsc! Let their hunt come!"

"No... not Bodhi's hunt." Imoen whispered oddly, turning to Greywulf as their eyes locked. "I'm sorry… what happened to you. Same thing he did to me, I guess, since we're… the same. He showed me what you are… and what I am. And then he took it away. I don't know who I am now, Greywulf. You may not feel it yet, but the spell for me made me feel hollow. He took something vital… he says it was my divine soul? I find out I'm a child of a god and now I'm empty and dying. You are too…"

"Not yet." Keldorn spoke up, shaking his head as he stepped up to her side. "The fact you yet survive is enough to grant hope. The two of you have more power than Irenicus could have imagined; he does not have your souls completely. Not while you remain on this plane. You have my oath, Imoen. We will find them and return what was stolen."

Imoen studied his features for a moment, slowly nodding in realization. "You... you were the knight. You helped me against Irenicus in my mind, didn't you?"

"Aye... though I was little more than a distraction. T'was your strength that freed us all." Keldorn nodded. "Keldorn Firecam, paladin of Torm, at your service."

"Right..." Imoen took his offered hand with a lopsided smile, then glanced over at Aerie, the elf watching nervously. "And uh... who are you?"

Aerie opened her mouth to speak- a roar of magic echoed through the chamber they were standing in. Bricks from the floor shot upward in segments, creating walls and barriers; Greywulf cried out in alarm, leaping forward towards Imoen as a wall of rock slammed between them, nearly smashing him had he been forward another foot. Keldorn backed away as the same happened to him, drawing the Hallowed Redeemer from its sheath in a smooth motion as he watched the barriers between the groups rise and fall, finally settling with one final sizzle of magic and mechanics. The final rumble of magic died as the transformation was complete; for good or ill, the trap had sprung.

Imoen rubbed her head in pain as she tried to climb up off the floor where she had fallen after being taken by surprise by the swift transformation. It was only when she heard another groan that she realized she wasn't alone, a relief in itself. "Aerie." the elf groaned as Imoen helped her to her feet. "My name's Aerie."

"Well Aerie," Imoen said in desperation as she looked around, the single narrow corridor that stretched out in front of them heading out and away from where their companions had been seen last shrouded in darkness. "It looks like we'll be getting to know each other real well."

X X X X X X X

A blast of flame exploded against the walls, enough heat to melt stone... but it left nothing more than a burn mark on the wall as Greywulf's magics ceased. Keldorn rested one gauntlet on Greywulf's shoulder, pulling him to face him. "Enough... we will not find the others that way."

"Don't you understand? They're back there," Greywulf grunted, slamming his quarterstaff into the wall only for it to bounce back, almost slipping from his grip. "And we have to find them! Imoen's back there-"

"And we will find them all, but only if we maintain our heads." Keldorn warned calmly. "Think logically; this is a maze designed to test clarity. A dissection of the brain... should we follow the logical path, we must assume that we will find the others as well."

"How do you know?" Greywulf questioned, though his demeanor was indeed calming.

"You sound as though we have a choice in the matter." Keldorn shook his head wryly as he turned towards the single passage that led away from the dead end they were at. "Come... the others are undoubtedly facing the same dilemma at this point."

Greywulf sighed, nodding in resignation. "You're probably right. I just... she was right there. We found her... and now-"

"And now you have restored her memory, and her mind." Keldorn finished as the paladin and sorcerer walked the stone hall slowly, senses alert for any danger. "Everything you have told me of Imoen suggests she is more than capable of handling herself in a fight. If my memory serves me properly, she was with Aerie when the room changed. Surely the two of them will be able to handle anything that comes their way. Have faith."

Greywulf exhaled deeply, nodding as he did his best to take Keldorn's advice. The path was unremarkable, a long straight corridor with no turns or tricks. It did nothing to lower their guard though, neither Keldorn nor Greywulf relaxed as they continued toward the small light in the distance. The sorcerer glanced over toward his companion, noting the gaze of the paladin on him. "Something wrong?"

"Just assuring myself that you are... all right." Keldorn mused. "Tell me, how are you feeling?"

"Aside from the fact that this death trap just split us up and my soul's been taken like the last sandwich at a halfling's birthday party... great."

Keldorn chuckled as the pair continued on, shaking his head wryly. "Good to see your sense of humor has not lost its edge in all this. But eh... I am concerned for you, Greywulf. To have lost such an integral part of what... defines you, makes you... it cannot leave you unchanged. If you need help, do not hesitate to ask me."

"I appreciate the concern, Keldorn..." Greywulf nodded to the older man as they walked, "But I doubt there's much any of us can do right now. I feel... I feel cold. Empty, almost... not surprising, I guess, hmm?"

"No... not surprising at all." Keldorn mused warily. "I will offer a special prayer for you, Greywulf; I do not have a good feeling about this. Any of it."

"No need to worry; Aerie and Imoen are together, and if any pair can protect themselves, it's Minsc and Jaheira-" Greywulf stopped abruptly as the two of them slowly passed through a doorway, the light inside enough to block any vision until they had actually entered-

There was a blinding flash and a swirl of magic; the two of them blinked, finding themselves... somewhere else. Greywulf looked to his left; there stood a King and Queen, along with several other oh so familiar figures, Keldorn flanking the King and Queen's other side. Across the room stood an army of black figures, each one wooden and perfect duplicates... of chess pieces. Looking down at the ground, Greywulf tossed another look towards Keldorn. "Besides, it's not the others I'm really worried about."

Keldorn gritted his teeth as the pieces came alive; every piece began moving, slowly trudging forward according to their specified pattern. Keldorn watched as Greywulf slowly made his own movements, crossing the board diagonally. Trying to step ahead, his whole body bounced back, and so he followed the same path, hurrying across the board to meet Greywulf halfway. The two paused as the rest of the pieces kept moving, slowly passing them as they rushed onward to the opposing army, still coming as well. "A giant game of chess." Keldorn said grimly. "How original."

"What, has this happened to you before?" Greywulf questioned as the two kept moving forward, zigzagging so as to stay close together.

"No, but it seems... used." Keldorn grunted as they kept moving. "Somewhat clichéd, almost."

"You know what? I think this game's a bit different!" Greywulf shouted as he quickly swerving, avoiding a swing from a knight that nearly took his head off. Keldorn whirled to look at the unexpected attack- from both the left and right were two other armies, each coming towards the middle of the field... exactly where he and Greywulf both stood.

"A four way chess battle." Keldorn forced a smile as he stepped next to Greywulf, the two covering each other's rear as separate battles began raging all around. "Pity I never learned this variant of the game."

Greywulf had little time to answer; a large man in heavy armor and wielding a flail rumbled straight towards him, roaring a battle cry. Greywulf raised one palm, shouting his own incantations- they fizzled as soon as they left the square he stood upon. "You have got to be kidding me."

Keldorn's eyes widened as the attacker came to the space directly diagonal from him- he thrust his sword out, catching him across the chest. The rook crumpled with a cry, collapsing into stone at Greywulf's feet. Keldorn shrugged, exhaling in acceptance as he looked at Greywulf. "We are to be the bishops then. I trust you know your moves?"

In response, Greywulf began another series of spells, this time releasing them along his own path of attack- the Cone of Cold shattered an approaching set of pawns, sending the black stone crumbling to the ground. "I think I'll manage."

X X X X X X X X

The contrasting glow of red and blue that came from Minsc's axes was enough to illuminate an otherwise dark path that he and Jaheira followed, the druid making careful watch of their flank as they continued on, looking for any sort of exit or escape. Minsc frowned as the path split before them; he turned to ask Jaheira, but shrugged as she quickly darted through the right path, the ranger following her lead. He studied the lines on her face as she moved, the frown that creased her brow. He exhaled lightly, enough to garner a sideways look from her. "They will be fine, you know. Do not worry about them."

"I am not worried." she replied brusquely. "I have every confidence in the others. They will make it without us."

"And you?" Minsc prodded. "How are you feeling? We have not spoken, Minsc and you, since Yoshimo betrayed us."

"It is strange that you would choose now of all times to reestablish the bounds of our friendship, Minsc." Jaheira said wryly. "Perhaps there might be a better time?"

"Minsc thinks best when battle is near." he replied, hefting one axe higher than the other. "Besides, Boo would nay wish me to... shirk, yes shirk, my duties as friend, eh?"

Jaheira let one corner of her mouth drift upward as he grinned at her; she sighed with a nod. "I am fine, Minsc. Believe me... I am fine."

"Minsc knows well enough to see when you lie." he countered. "You take on so much guilt... most of which is not yours to carry. There is only one person to blame for Yoshimo's actions... Yoshimo."

"Maybe so, but I still should have seen it coming." she retorted. "I am not as trusting as you, Minsc. Not then, and... and not now."

Minsc seemed content to let it go for the moment, even as he continued to watch her. More thoughts and ways of bringing her out of the shell of despair and mistrust she was building for herself was going to be difficult... but it was what he was charged with, and he was not about to fail. Minsc thought back to Letherel, to the words Queen Dianya had spoken to him then...

_"Minsc, you are the heart of this group. Your spirit, your purity is a shining light to all those who look upon it. Let your words be ever fruitful, ever encouraging... for your friends, all of them, will need you in this late hour."_

_"Eh... Minsc is humbled, but he is not sure that you have the right person." Minsc said sheepishly as Dianya led him away from the rest of the sleeping party. "Minsc is a fine leader with blade and boot... but he is not so good with the speaking."_

_"No, Minsc... I am quite positive I have chosen the right man." Dianya laughed. "Do not underestimate yourself; you see more through the eyes of a child than many of the wisest mages and scholars I have met. Each one... each and every one of your comrades will need your words, your wisdom before this is all over. Do not fail them, Minsc. Let your hope, your faith guide you, and them." _

_"Boo and I will do what you ask... but Minsc is still confused." the ranger sighed. "What should... can we say? Jaheira is wiser than Minsc, Greywulf is smarter... Minsc is stronger, but that is not what you speak of, is it?"_

_"Not physical strength, Minsc... but you will understand in time." Dianya smiled, leading him to the care of her dryad sisters, leading him to the preparations of bath and food that awaited each one of them. "You will understand."_

The ranger shook his head as the two of them stopped at another split in the road, Jaheira growling in frustration as she headed left. Minsc followed behind, watching in concern as they repeated the same process over and over; the monotony of the path and the frustration of their lack of progress began to wear on Jaheira as they went, her face visibly growing irritated as they kept going, never finding a way out or a change in scenery to let them know they were making progress of any kind-

Minsc's arm shot out to block her path as Jaheira started to make another turn, he druid looking back over at Minsc. "No. Minsc will lead now. You can relax."

Jaheira frowned but nodded with a hint of realization as Minsc stretched out his arm, making a tiny nick in the wall with the edge of Stonefire before taking the next path. They moved quickly, each time they came to another fork, Minsc digging another notch in the path wall they had taken. Soon enough, one of the paths with his mark appeared; they took the other path, following it to its end, where they found another unmarked path, and another, and another-

They rushed into a clearing like that which they hadn't seen yet, an open room with no scenery or obvious obstacles; there was only one path in and one path out. Jaheira took a step forward, looking around in suspicion as the two slowly made their way toward the exit...

An explosion and rumble of magic blinded Minsc as he stumbled away, finally tearing his eyes open to see-

"Jaheira!!"

Half of the room floor had opened, an empty chasm lying where once solid stone had been. Above the chasm hung four women, each one identical in form and appearance to Jaheira. Each one was strung up and hanging by a rope that looked ready to snap at any moment, each one just out of reach for Minsc to grab onto. Minsc stepped back, his mind thudding with confusion as he tried to make sense of it all-

_"Hello there, mortal..." _a ghostly form appeared beside Minsc, his shrouded face all but invisible as Minsc raised his axes in defense. _"No need to worry about me... though your friend might have cause."_

"What game is this?" Minsc demanded. "Free Jaheira at once!"

_"Of course... once you have cut down the doppelgangers. Three of them are false; one is your friend. Kill the dark ones and the chasm will close, freeing you and your friend from this trap. Of course, all you truly need to do is cut down three of those who hang before you. Should your friend be among those three... you will still be free to go. Your friend will, unfortunately perish."_

"Minsc refuses to play your evil games!" he roared, swinging one axe into the specter, only for it to sweep through untouched.

_"It is not a choice, mortal. Decide carefully."_

The specter disappeared, leaving Minsc alone with the four forms of Jaheira, each one looking at him with nervousness in their eyes yet a glare of viciousness for each other. The clamor of their voices was too much for Minsc to take in; he could barely hear what they were saying, much less comprehend their arguments. They looked to him to understand, for him to make the right choice... Minsc thought about Jaheira, thought about the woman he had traveled with for so long, who he traveled with now... who she was going to be.

Minsc raised one hand, the four of them quieting as he stepped forward, drawing the Sword of Chaos, its blade just long enough to reach their ropes. Minsc looked them all in the eyes, then asked the question. "Do you trust Minsc? Minsc, and the others?"

Each one nodded, holding their breaths as Minsc watched them- the sword sung out three times, sending three women down to the chasm below with screams of terror. The floor closed once more, becoming solid rock as the last form of Jaheira slipped from the now immaterial bonds, taking Minsc's hand as he helped her up. Jaheira dusted herself off, then exhaled in relief as Minsc studied her evidently assuring himself he had made the right decision. "Do not fear Minsc, you chose wisely. But... but how did you know? You only asked us one question; a question of trust. How was it enough to tell me apart from the doppelgangers?"

Minsc gave her a sad smile as he handed her the spear she had dropped while they moved to the exit. "You were the only one who hesitated before answering."

Jaheira paused for a moment as Minsc kept moving, leaving her with the implications of that truth ringing in her mind.

X X X X X X X X

"What did you say you were again?"

"A cleric... a cleric and a mage."

"We're screwed." Imoen noted as the two of them unleashed another blast of spells at the still approaching golem, its resistant body suffering little from their magics. The two of them had been traveling the paths of this maze for some time, exchanging stories and histories as they went, trying to find some manner of exit, or at the least some sign of their companions. There had been no luck so far; Imoen had just made a verbal wish for some excitement, anything to cut the boredom of traveling round and round in circles... and then the iron golem had shown up.

Rumbling straight down the corridor towards them, it was near impossible to get by its mammoth body, but the lack of forks or turns in the path left them with little option than going forward. An option, which, at the moment, did not look very fruitful. It had taken their best spells and shrugged them off; Aerie's quarterstaff was of little use against such a large construct, and since Imoen was still without a weapon, it made for quite the unappealing situation.

Imoen grunted as she unleashed another burst of Magic Missiles, the small bullets of magic exploding against the metal skin of the golem... they left small char marks, nothing more. Aerie gulped as the construct took a swing, its arm just short of taking one of their heads off. The two retreated backward even faster, hoping to find some sort of path they had missed; coming to a sharp turn in the road, Imoen stopped in her tracks, eyes wide. "That wasn't there before."

A second golem was trudging forward from the rear, its mechanical limbs swinging heavily as it stomped ever onward. Aerie glanced at the shrinking distance between them and their foes, then arched her head to look at the girl whose back was to hers. "Any ideas?"

Imoen watched the iron golem's gait, the swing of its legs and arms as it continued on towards them- "Maybe. Get ready to move."

After a half second, Imoen took off running, heading straight for the iron golem. Aerie was right behind, the two hurtling toward the golem as it roared, raising its arms to smash the two as they drew close. Both of them dived through the legs of the golem, coming out rolling as the huge iron fists smashed the location they would have been in moments ago. it turned around, giving chase as the two kept moving, on and on through the halls as their pursuers continued, slower and slower as the two girls made good their escape- Imoen yelped in surprise as she stopped, Aerie noticing why after a second. The corridor they faced ahead was filled with holes, along with several blood splatters and skeletons. Similar holes riddled the bodies who were decomposing in the midst of the corridor; each one matching with a hole in the walls or ground.

Aerie frowned, then cast a spell, calling one of the skulls lying about to herself. She rolled it forward, the skull bouncing along the ground as it continued its path. As soon as it reached a certain point, entering the general area where the skeletons were littered, the sound as though a trigger had been activated went out, and the walls around jutted forth long iron spikes, crisscrossing the hallway before them, covering the area in an impassable wall of death. The rusted, bloody spikes sat still for a moment, then with a grating sound, began retracting, going back to their hidden position in the wall. "You said you were a thief too, right?"

Imoen nodded, glancing behind her as the golem's roars grew ever louder. "Yeah... what about it?"

"Now might be a good time to practice those skills." Aerie pleaded; Imoen hurriedly began examining the walls around, looking for any kind of mechanism, any sort of trap or switch to use- her eyes brightened as a brick slid aside, revealing a small set of gears and switches inside. Aerie handed Imoen a good sized stone, the young thief-mage jamming it into the gears just as the golems turned the corner behind them, sighting them once again.

Imoen took a breath, praying for their plan to work... then leapt into the corridor at top speed with Aerie at her side. The sound of the gears whirling to activate again resonated down the hall, blades rushing from their hiding spots once more... but short. The two kept moving, trying to find the end of the bladed passage in desperation, the golems crawling through the passage as well. A rumble resonated down the chamber, before the spikes jolted out further, still short... but not by much.

"Couldn't you have found a sturdier rock?!" Imoen called behind her as they kept moving.

The spikes rumbled again, Imoen throwing herself out of the danger zone with Aerie a split second behind her- the trap activated completely, just catching the sleeve of Aerie's robe before she hit safety. Aerie was panting, her hands on her knees as she tried to regain her breath, while Imoen took a quick moment to chuckle, pointing back down the hall. Aerie looked, then smiled back at Imoen weakly.

"Better the golems than us." Aerie shuddered, then looked back at Imoen. "Quite the return to the adventuring life, huh?"

"Something like that." Imoen chuckled. "Still, I'd rather face a hundred of these things than be trapped in my own head again. Don't worry about it, Aerie. We'll get out of here."

"Greywulf always talked about your spirit... how you never gave up hope." Aerie mentioned as the two kept moving, though at a bit more of a leisurely pace. "I'm... I'm glad to see you're still the girl he told me about."

"Yeah... except I'm not." Imoen smiled sadly. "Maybe on the outside... but not where it counts. We just... it was easy to be hopeful before. We'd never lost... never been beaten. Not until Irenicus."

Aerie watched Imoen's expression, the way her eyes grew glassy, unseeing as she kept moving, her feet taking her along as she retreated into herself- "We'll find him, Imoen." Aerie said, trying to be comforting. "We'll get your souls back. I promise."

Imoen glanced up at Aerie, tracing the lines of her earnest, pretty face... she laughed, then wrapped one arm around the elf. "Thanks Aerie, but I've got enough vows of loyalty and vengeance floating around for my and Greywulf's sakes. You just keep me company, stick around so I got another girl besides Jaheira to talk with... and we'll call it even, 'kay?"

Aerie giggled and nodded, the two of them finally reaching another clearing, another flash of blinding magic...

Once more, six adventurers found themselves in an enclosed room, no exits or entrances, but at the very least, reunited. "How did we get here? Minsc did not see any of you arrive-"

A whirl of vapor filled the room, and once more a specter's visage revealed itself to them. _"You have proven yourselves powerful on your own... now is the time to show your quality as one."_

"Why? What do you gain from all this-" Greywulf shouted as he reached for the disappearing ghost, but the room's far wall shimmered, slowly revealing a set of four portraits. The image of a monster, each one so lifelike and real they could have jumped from the portraits, stared back at them as they approached; Greywulf ran his hand up and down one of them, commenting, "I imagine these are the key to getting out of here."

"And the key to some life-threatening challenge that will most assuredly involve fighting whatever's on here." Imoen rolled her eyes. "Let's see... a troll, golem, mind flayer and djinni. Aerie and I just fought some golems, so I say we save them for later."

"Your point is duly noted," Greywulf remarked, "But unless you know something I don't, we don't even know how to activate whatever these things are."

"Minsc and Boo know! Bash down the pictures, and the opening will come!" Minsc proclaimed, lowering one shoulder and charging the picture of a troll. The impact knocked him back onto his rear, but the wall behind the portrait made a slight grating sound. With the creak of old wheels, the wall where the troll was slid open, revealing a compartment holding a very angry, very hungry looking troll. The beast rushed out at the stunned Minsc, his claws outstretched. Keldorn moved to intercept, bringing the blade of Torm across the troll's stomach, neatly cutting the troll in half. As the upper half of the troll still attempted to crawl to its prey, Greywulf pointed one hand at the beast, sending a snake of flame to end the troll's life for good.

"That wasn't too bad." Imoen noted, helping Minsc to his feet.

"No, but I suspect that more creatures lie beneath each painting. One surely has the exit, but the others... well, fairly obvious, no?" Jaheira mused with a frown.

Greywulf looked at the other three portraits; he winced, hating his choices, but... the djinni portrait slid inward with his hand, sending the wall behind it sliding up with a rumble of gears and machinery. Greywulf flew back without warning, a sizzle of magic sparking at his chest as he lay across the room, a groan coming from his mouth. Minsc's eyes widened as he raised his axes, the djinni flying out with scimitar upraised. Aerie and Imoen dodged back in unison and as if on key, both unleashed spells of destruction at once, fire flowing out of Aerie's hands, ice from Imoen. The twin magics struck the djinni at the same time, pushing it back, but the elemental damage was minimal.

The djinni grunted once, opened his mouth as if to roar- a fog of thick green smoke poured out from his mouth, covering the room. Minsc looked around frantically, coughing as he tried to ascertain the whereabouts of the djinni; he heard a loud clang behind him, whirling to see Jaheira sprawling to the floor, a large scimitar glinting above her. She was not injured badly, but the weapon had obviously connected solidly; her heavy armor showing a large gash down the front of it. Minsc squinted, moving forward slowly with his axes to find his foe in the dark- the sound of lightning blasting through the room seared a blaze of white through the room, sending the scimitar and its wielder flying. Minsc moved toward the source, ready to strike- he stopped just short when he saw Greywulf crouched there, his hands still smoking with the blast of magic he had unleashed. Minsc tossed him a nod, then quickly returned to Jaheira's side, kneeling by her defensively.

Greywulf slowly crept forward, trying to catch any sight of their opponent. He heard another grunt, then the sound of many spells being ignited. Pushing aside caution and fear, he rushed toward the source- an explosion rocked the room, ending the noise. Aerie rolled out across the floor unconscious, her robes singed and smoking. The familiar sound of Keldorn's shout came from across the room; Greywulf turned, raising his staff at guard. The sound of a blade hurtling through the air was rampant, each whistle through the air coming up unsuccessful. The noises suddenly went silent and with a clatter of armor, Greywulf's blood went cold.

Whirling his staff in an attempt to push the fog away, he found the magical fog far too potent to be cleared by simple wind. The sound of something massive approaching, a scimitar glinting in the fog ahead interrupted the spell he was preparing. The djinni burst into view, his blade upraised and ready to come down on Greywulf's head- Minsc barreled into view, his axes catching the attack at the last possible second. The djinni turned and growled, sweeping his scimitar towards Minsc off the block. Frostreaver turned that particular attack; as Minsc and the djinni dueled fiercely, Greywulf completed the spell, clearing the fog with a cleansing mist. Imoen darted from across the room, joining Greywulf as their opponent was finally made clear. The blitz of magic from behind took the djinni by surprise; he pitched forward off balance for a half second in his battle with Minsc- that half-second was enough. Frostreaver swept the djinni's scimitar to the side, leaving Stonefire a clear path... right into its gut. It howled with pain, finally fading back into its home in the Planes.

Greywulf lowered his hand, his heart pounding as the battle ended... ended? Over... already? Greywulf shook his head, trying to clear his thoughts- "Greywulf! Keldorn needs your aid!"

Jaheira's voice ripped him back to reality; he looked over and nodded weakly, half-seeing Minsc help Jaheira over to Aerie as Imoen motioned for him to come help her with the heavily injured paladin. He found himself stumbling over to the prone man, his own hands shaking as he moved- he collapsed to the ground, Imoen shouting an alarm unheard to his ears as he fell, the world spinning before his suddenly golden colored eyes.

X X X X X X X

"-did he say? Was there anything else he said or did before he fell?

The sound of Keldorn's voice, both concerned and firm awoke the man, his eyes fluttering open to see Imoen, Jaheira, and Keldorn kneeling over him. "Hey there... you gave us quite a scare." Imoen smiled weakly. "How are you feeling?"

"I... I don't even know what happened." Greywulf muttered, Imoen helping him sit up. "I just... my head started spinning; my vision... couldn't see anything. How long was I out?"

"Only for an hour or so." Keldorn cut in, a frown crossing his noble features. "I suggest we take a few more minutes to rest before continuing on; Aerie and I are only just regaining our strength after battling the djinni... whatever struck you might return. We must be cautious."

Imoen nodded in agreement, Keldorn already moving off to seat himself beside Aerie. "You definitely looked pretty sick there for a bit; maybe after effects of the spell cast on you?"

"Maybe..." Greywulf managed. "Have you felt any ill effects since then?"

"I'm not the same as before, that's for sure... but the spell hasn't made me ill yet." Imoen said hesitantly.

Greywulf nodded, looking down at his still trembling hands... it had been so odd, so fast. One moment he had been fighting, simply doing what he did... casting spells, trying to keep everyone safe- and the next minute, it wasn't about keeping everyone safe. It was about the kill. The djinni had to die.. but he wanted to do it. Disappointed when Minsc killed the thing... wanted to attack Minsc? He shook his head, trying to ignore the queasy feeling, right alongside that foreboding, growing in the pit of his stomach. Why?

"We will have time to discuss the symptoms of this spell at a later date... we have no choice but to keep moving and pray we might escape before Bodhi finds us." Jaheira cut into Greywulf's thoughts, shooing Imoen off. "Give him some time to rest... we do not have much time."

Imoen nodded, then gave Greywulf a tiny smile before heading over to Minsc. Jaheira glanced back at Greywulf, outwardly analyzing any of the numerous scratches or minor wounds he still bore, but inwardly... inwardly she looked deeper. _Something has happened. He is… I don't know. I want to believe he is the same man, especially since … he thinks he feels for me in a new way, but I don't know anymore. Without his soul to push back the taint, what will he do... who will he be? I must know, before I can decide anything else._

"Greywulf... if it would not tire you too much, could I speak with you for a moment?"

"Certainly... what is it you wish, Jaheira?" Greywulf asked, sitting up a bit straighter, noting the concern in her eyes.

"Thank you." Jaheira said, clearing her throat. "I wished to speak of the future a bit. I know we have discussed this in brief before, but I need to… clarify a few things."

"You were the one that thought my future mine to control." Greywulf said, arching one eyebrow. "Has this changed?"

"No, not as much." Jaheira said, shrugging. "I just wished to know how you feel on the path you have chosen. Granted I am right here to see, but I don't know what you…think."

Seeing Greywulf nod, Jaheira took a breath and began to speak, "Do you still find my company beneficial? Do you still think of our fallen and missing friends as often as you did? What of your fight to remain in balance?"

Greywulf drew back, shaking his head with more than a little disbelief, "Jaheira, this is not a 'chat.' This is more a judicial inquiry."

Jaheira stopped, then calmed abruptly, "I am sorry then. I did not mean to test you so... I just thought- no. Perhaps this can wait for another time. Forget I said anything."

She stood, turning to leave, then glanced back to meet his eyes, still watching her in confusion. "What? Let's just get some rest, and get out of here."

She started to leave, Greywulf dropping his head with a desperate sigh, willing to let the argument go unfinished... but in the back of his mind, the little voice inside his head let him know that this was one discussion... one talk that could not go unfinished. Not like this. His hand shot out and took her wrist, the druid turning back in surprise. Her eyes looked for a moment as though she would pull away, recoil... but that faded as she simply pried his hand off gently, looking at him questioningly.

"Jaheira... what's wrong? Why the interrogation, why the questions? Did... did I frighten you that much a second ago? Is there something I did-"

"No..." Jaheira shook her head, her eyes dropping to the stone floor, seeking the words to say to him. "It's never been you. It's been me... my doubts, my flaws... my kin."

Greywulf nodded in understanding. "The Harpers."

"Yes, I-" she cut herself off, as though unwilling to keep speaking, but her heart bade her continue and so she sat down beside him, shifting the heavy plate armor, still bearing a jagged cut from the battle with the djinni. "I just... do not know what to say. Not to you, and especially not to myself."

"All you can do is try." he offered quietly, though she merely snorted in reply.

"As if it were so simple. You- we have been through much together. So much has happened to us, so much has been done... and yet we remain. Despite the odds, you and I are still alive; I remain here, with you..."

"Is that so bad?" Greywulf said with a half-chuckle.

"I have my doubts at times." Jaheira smirked, but the brief glimpse of levity was squelched in moments. "I suppose I was too forward with my questioning earlier. Forgive me, but... I needed to know that you yet remain the same man I began traveling with so long ago."

The sorcerer nodded, understanding her concern. It was hard for him to believe he was the same boy of Candlekeep that he had been when leaving his home with Gorion- much less for Jaheira, his guardian, his friend... but nothing more. "It had been some time since we first met. Many things have changed. I have not, despite anything Irenicus may have done to me."

Jaheira was not so easily swayed; she leaned forward, shaking her head as she studied his features. "There has been change all around. You may have been affected in ways you don't know... and without your soul-"

"Without my soul I will need your trust and your aid more than ever." Greywulf cut her off. "Please believe me. I am not going to change. Not for Irenicus, not for anyone. I am what you see here... nothing more, nothing less."

The two locked gazes for a moment, Greywulf's palms growing sweaty as she leaned forward, opening her mouth as though wanting so desperately to say she trusted him, to believe him... but she couldn't. She pulled back, folding her arms as she held herself tightly. "This... I'm sorry, Greywulf. None of this eases my mind. I want to say I believe you, that I trust you fully... but I cannot. I must know what is truth or I cannot trust myself. My decisions have affected many; lives have been lost because of what I have chosen as right. I cannot endanger anyone else before knowing what I truly believe."

Greywulf looked at her profile, worry lines creasing her otherwise smooth face, and said, "I do not hide anything from you, Jaheira. I have no reason to."

He was surprised to see her shudder a bit, before raising her head a bit so that he could see her eyes, filled with hesitation, concern... guilt? "You hide nothing from me? The Harper in your midst?"

Greywulf recoiled, finally beginning to make sense of some of Jaheira's doubt and hesitation. She was no longer a Harper; no longer one of those with whom she had lived and fought alongside for years. Her hand had slain several of them, Galvarey at their head. Regardless of right or wrong, the blood was on someone's head, and... and for her, there was no other guilty party. Following Greywulf would lead to more killing of Harpers; there was no getting around it. Added to the matter of his taint growing strong without his soul to push it back, and she could not decide where to turn for trust. She was conflicted, torn inside, and until she came to some sort of resolution, her emotions would not get any clearer. Greywulf said as earnestly as possible, "You are not 'the Harper in my midst,' you never were. You are Jaheira by my side; I have never seen it differently. It will only change should you decide it to be so."

A humorless laugh came as she stared at him in disbelief, unsure how he could continue to trust her so. "I don't know what to say to that. I still have concerns that must be addressed, but you seem so…"

Jaheira shook her head once, the long braids of her hair flying around a bit before she pushed herself off the ground, steadying a bit against the slate gray walls. "We have spent enough time here. Let's get moving. The future will bring what it will bring... and for good or ill, we will see it through."

"And as I have said before," Greywulf nodded firmly as she helped him up as well, "That is all I ever can... and ever will ask of you."


	53. Part 2: Redemption's Price

A faint wisp of ash and greenish-gray smoke drifted through the room, seeping into the very stone of the walls and floors. The source of such pungent pollution was easily discerned; small pieces of stone, flesh, and iron littered the room, some pieces still smoking, others seemingly ready to crumble into ash. Twisted metal mingled alongside crumbled rock, and the arms, legs, and torsos of what had once been magically living constructs were now strewn about the room without regard for their former purpose. One iron head rested in the corner, its lifeless and lidless eyes staring across the battlefield, resting upon the pair who sat close in the opposite corner; one small and unassuming as she whispered words of elvish and arcane origin, letting her magics knit the bone and flesh of her companion, leaning back against the wall in an attempt to relieve the pain he had incurred in their last altercation, such as it was.

Aerie's tender hands ran over Keldorn's shoulder, her eyes finally opening as her spells finished. She studied the newly formed skin and prodded the former wound gently, watching for any sign of pain from Keldorn's face, but it was well within the bounds of tolerability. Keldorn flexed his arm once, rotated the shoulder several times, nodding in satisfaction. He grasped the pauldron he had removed to give Aerie access to his wound and nodded in gratitude to the elven cleric as he pushed his armor back into place, the metal plate sliding together tightly despite the dents that the golems had placed in it through their massive fists.

"Thank you Aerie... it feels better. Had I been more cautious, you would not have had to waste your time and power on such wounds, but I find myself in your debt once again."

Aerie frowned and batted his arm gently with her own hand, her blue eyes coming dangerously close to rolling in the face of such unwavering gallant chivalry. "Don't be silly, Keldorn... you couldn't have known there would be three golems in that last portrait..."

Keldorn shrugged, chuckling to himself as he gazed over the wreckage from their fierce battle. He pushed himself to his feet, accepting a hand of aid from Aerie as he remained leaned up against the wall, exhaling deeply as he tried to regain his wind. "Perhaps. Yes, perhaps you are right. It changes little though; Torm himself would be ashamed to see me turn my back on an unknown source of danger after seeing merely one threat emerge. Much less my former mentor."

Aerie pursed her lips and shook her head wryly, straightening Keldorn's slightly off kilter pauldron, snapping it fully back in place. She tugged on it, ensuring it was fully together, then nodded in satisfaction. "Now you're just being self-deprecating. At least you know who your god is; I sometimes wonder about my own..."

Keldorn frowned as he gazed down at Aerie, the elf's eyes suddenly dropping as though she had said more than she had truly intended. She bit her lip nervously, then returned his questioning look. "I... forgive me, I did not mean to impose, but I had hoped to ask you a question sometime. You do not mind, do you?"

"Of course not." the paladin glanced past the girl to the others, still being treated for their last battle. Rest again, so soon... it was going too slow. Bodhi would be upon them soon, and if they had to take breathers so quickly in succession, their hopes of avoiding contact with the powerful vampire would die even quicker than they expected. Still... he turned back to Aerie with a comforting smile. No reason to deny the girl's simple request. "What troubles you?"

"I... well, I was listening to you pray a while back. The way you showed your devotion, the tone in your voice as you expressed fealty to Torm... you... you sounded like you had chosen him and him alone as your god. No room for others like Helm, or Tyr, or the like-" Aerie began, hoping her words would not prove offensive to the older paladin. If they were, he did not show it.

"My fealty belongs to Torm, true enough." Keldorn shrugged, wincing slightly as it stretched his still slightly injured shoulder. He watched the cracked walls before him blur with the pain and he made a mental note to avoid strenuous use of that arm for the time being, or at least until the healers of their party regained their abilities for another round of healing. "But I remain respectful of the other gods, particularly those who call Torm ally and friend. As you say, Tyr, Helm, even Mystra and Lathander are those to whom I offer my service should Torm be willing. Does this disturb you?"

"No... no, I just wondered about my own faith. It is so different... different from you or Jaheira. Both of you seem focused on one god and only one," Aerie voiced hesitantly, then met Keldorn's gaze with a frown. "Quayle taught me to be a cleric, but… but I know so little of the world. He taught me to worship Baervan Wildwanderer, god of the gnomes…"

Keldorn thought for a moment, "Baervan Wildwanderer: the Masked Leaf, the Forest Gnome. I have heard of him, but know little. I have dedicated my studies to the human pantheon, I fear. Still, everything that I have heard bodes well for such a choice. Does his service not appeal to you?"

"No! I mean, he has protected me well and accepted my worship for many years... but he is not the god I was raised to worship. I also give praise to Aerdrie Faenya, god of the elves... and more and more often I feel compelled to bring tithe or prayer to Mystra, goddess of magic... a human goddess. Everyone around me knows who their god is and who their heart belongs to, but here I am, neither elf nor gnome nor human in my beliefs but a… a hodge-podge of them all- am I wrong to be that way, Keldorn?" she questioned.

Keldorn smiled, and then shook his head as he placed one hand on her shoulder, squeezing the azure and gold colored shoulder just a bit. "Wrong? No, my dear... not in the least. To some you are the ideal; you have dedicated yourself to the church in all its forms, not restricting yourself based on race or creed, but by following your heart."

"I... it sounds nice, but I must confess I'm not entirely sure what you mean." Aerie blushed, Keldorn chuckling as he motioned for her to sit again, noting the healing and work that was still being done across the room with Jaheira and Minsc.

Keldorn sighed in contentment as he rested himself again, shifting off a few stray rocks and stones that were below him, then tried to explain once again. "You see, we all have a tendency, perfectly natural because we are but mortals, to try and restrict our worship; we divide the pantheons to those with whom we can relate to the most. Perhaps it is hubris, or a base form of racism... one could hardly expect a human to worship an elven god, or an elf to pray to a god of the dwarves. Or at least, that is what is believed."

"I do suppose it would be hard to imagine my people showing fealty to the halfling goddess of the Hearth." Aerie chuckled, her voice light with the soft tones of her laughter echoing from the cavernous room's walls.

"Exactly." Keldorn nodded with a smile. "We find it easiest to pray to those deities who are easiest to appease, or to those who appear to have the greatest impact on our lives and thus the rest are ignored. Jaheira no doubt feels respect for more than merely Silvanus, just as my feelings are not limited to Torm, but they are the ones we have chosen as our own. Were we as open and wise as you, perhaps I would be a paladin of both Torm and Tyr. One only knows how willing the gods are to share loyalties, though."

"Wise as me?" Aerie repeated in what sounded like both flattered embarrassment as well as a hint of disbelief. "I don't think I'm quite that deserving of your compliments, Keldorn..."

"No, I think you are." he persisted, shaking his head. "Your life has not been easy, Aerie, but it has taught you much in its own way."

She listened quietly for a moment longer, then shook her head with a laugh, letting the blonde braids of her hair flutter a bit before she straightened them again. "Oh thank you Keldorn... one of these days you'll have to teach me all the things you say I know."

"Or you me, Aerie. Or you me... if I survive long enough that is." Keldorn chuckled with a hint of resignation. "Would that Torm would grant me vigor for these last days. 'Tis a terrible thing, what old age does to a body in its declining years. Not that you shall have to experience it for several centuries to come. I shall be honest; there are times I wish for a hint of elf blood in my own veins, if only to ease the burden these bones carry."

"If it is any consolation, I would not trade you for a dozen younger men in their prime." Aerie declared, folding her arms rather defiantly at his previous statements. "I remember elf warriors from my home who fought with less strength and skill than I see from you every day."

Keldorn barked a laugh, straightening one leg as he watched the others draw near to the end of their healing processes. A giggle of laughter erupted from Imoen as Greywulf spoke with her across the room, the two undoubtedly still catching up after being separated for so long. Keldorn smiled at the sight, then shrugged as his gaze returned to Aerie. "I am not the young man who attempted to join the ranks of the Order so many years ago, Aerie. I would be lying if I did not admit that retirement has crossed my mind more and more these days... a permanent respite from toil and battle... I cannot help but feel that I have earned it on some level. Pride, perhaps."

"Or the truth." Aerie snorted, her hands resting upon the familiar feel of her quarterstaff as she talked. "You have been so faithful that the very god you serve has appeared to you, granted you a gift from his own hands... oh how amazing it must have been! I can only pray Baervan might see fit to grant me the same boon someday..."

"Perhaps. But I do not exaggerate when I say my best days are long since spent." the man seemed to take on the years he so often hid, his shoulders sagging a bit as he spoke. For some reason, he now looked every bit the fifty-nine year old he was. "Twenty years ago I fought a Balor demon one on one and emerged victorious... now I falter under the onslaught of a horde of zombies. Heh. No Aerie... I have come to a decision, even if it has been some time in the making. This... this fight with Irenicus will be my last. I will help you and the rest regain the souls of Greywulf and Imoen, bring this Irenicus to justice... but that will be the end. My time is over... and I cannot think of a more worthy venture to end my career upon."

"You're truly ready to quit?" Aerie asked in surprise, not really believing him until she met his eyes, the weary yet resigned determination lying within. "Retiring from the Order?"

"Yes... almost. Perhaps they will ask me to perform some desk job or officiating position, but I could not bear it. Too many years spent on the battlefield with my fellow knights and paladins... I could not handle the more subtle warfare of bureaucracy. But you bring to mind another point... I have one last battle to fight after this has ended."

Aerie thought for a moment, then realized what he was talking about; by the hardness in his eyes and the gritty memories flashing over his face it could be no other. "Firkraag."

"Yes. I will challenge this dragon; whether with the might of the Radiant Heart at my back or alone, I will no longer let his predations and wickedness corrupt the Realms. His confession is enough for my oath as a paladin... I can act upon his guilt and act I shall. I will see my family's honor and memory restored before the end, my oath to Torm."

His fierce gaze and intense tone suddenly faltered as he suddenly blinked, looking back at Aerie as though suddenly realizing where he was once more. He blushed a slight shade of crimson, then shook his head apologetically. "Ah, forgive me, Aerie. I should not be so open with my oaths and the like- forget I said anything. For now, it appears as though Jaheira has finished treating Minsc. If we are to escape we must hurry. I will ensure they are ready to leave; perhaps you should do the same with Imoen and Greywulf?"

Aerie nodded as Keldorn stood once more, his plate armor clinking just slightly as he moved to the other side of the room, his frame just as strong and stately as before. Aerie watched him with a hint of admiration before moving herself. Behind the chivalry, the dignity, the pious devotion and the gentle wisdom was still just a man: vulnerable, fatigued, and at the end of his rope. But by every star in heaven, she had never met another man who hid it so well as Sir Keldorn Firecam. Or, she thought to herself before moving, one who not only dared to defend himself against the terrors and pain of the world... but he fought back. Went on the offensive. And with the help of a few friends, he was winning.

X X X X X X X

"Wait just a minute…" Imoen abruptly said, her eyes widening as she raised one hand, staring at Greywulf's bemused look. She shook her head once, popped herself in the ears as though clearing them out so she could hear what he had just said again without trouble. "Twenty thousand gold pieces?! Twenty thousand?? Two with four zero's after it?!! How in the Realms did you raise that much money?!"

Greywulf chuckled, leaning back as his mind buzzed, racing over all the different things they had done since arriving in Athkatla. After their fight with the golems, Greywulf had been worried about a similar reaction as he had experienced after the djinni, and he had good reason to fear as well. Still, both Jaheira and Keldorn watched him closely as the fight ended, or as close as Keldorn could with his shoulder broken from the fist of an iron golem. He looked over to see Aerie and the paladin speaking, the elf treating his wound with all her considerable skill while Jaheira did the same with Minsc. No, there were no more fainting spells or glowing eyes... and he had never been more thankful. Turning back to Imoen, he shrugged and spouted off a list of the first things that drifted to memory. "Oh, you know… the usual. A beholder cult here, a troll invasion there... you do enough jobs and the rewards add up."

"Heh… now I remember why traveling with you was so much fun, you know? It's good to know you're still the same guy I grew up with, Mr. Do-gooder." Imoen laughed, crossing her legs with minimal effort, unable to sit completely still while they spoke. She looked on him with admiration, the love in her eyes never more clear, but her gaze slowly turned serious. "But anyways… you didn't have to do all that. I mean, I'd have killed you if you didn't pull out all the stops to rescue sweet little Imoen, but… all that money, all that time and effort, just to save me… thanks, Greywulf. I mean it."

"You'd have done the same thing for me." he smiled, leaning over to plant a small kiss on her cheek, dirty and dusty though they all were.

"Meh, don't be so sure." Imoen waggled one finger as Greywulf arched one eyebrow, crossing his arms in mock testiness. "Just think… Imoen, greatest of all Bhaalspawn, new leader of the most powerful group of adventurers on Faerun! With the mighty Minsc and Boo, the slightly overbearing Jaheira, mysterious and beautiful Imoen sweeps through Amn, performing deeds of heroism unmatched, except maybe by that other guy…. You know, the one involved with Sarevok and stopping the whole iron thing…"

Greywulf scowled playfully, though he had already prepared a comeback he knew would sting. "Oh really. Maybe you're right, I mean it wasn't that big a deal, saving that one playhouse from inter-planar bounty hunters… of course we had to jump through a planar worm hole to save the troupe, but you're right, nothing special."

Imoen's eyes bulged at that; losing all semblance of pride or haughtiness; her voice dropped to a whisper, slowly rising in pitch with every word. "You mean… you got to travel through the planes WITHOUT ME?!"

Greywulf laughed, scrambling away from the slap to his arm that was coming as Imoen protested, reliving their short adventure with Raelis Shai and their first encounter with Haer'Dalis. It had been just before they set out for Firkraag's dungeon, and in all truth had only taken place in the course of eight hours, but it had still been a harrowing experience. No money gained, no magical items... nothing. Just surviving the experience had been enough for them.

"Well, it wasn't anything too spectacular, to tell the truth," Greywulf continued, watching Imoen's scowl grow with each word. "The demons and tieflings we had to fight there were a bit on the wimpy side-"

Imoen waved her arms, shaking her head wildly as the pink strands of her hair smacked Greywulf in the face gently. "Gaah! Enough already, I don't want to hear about it! Next thing I know you'll be telling me about some king you saved, or a frost giant village you freed, or Mask forbid a dragon you slew…"

"Actually, that last one's not to far off the mark… although Minsc is a bit sore about not getting to finish that particular fight." the mage smirked.

Imoen sighed, then said testily, "All right, fair enough. But the next time you go plane hopping or dragon slaying, I'd better be there to have fun with you guys. Got it?"

"Of course, dear Imoen. Wouldn't dream of leaving you behind again." he promised with a nod, finally eliciting a genuine smile from Imoen again, all traces of envy gone.

Imoen appeared to be satisfied with that answer, then scanned the room once more, looking at each of their companions. They appeared to be just about ready for action, though it would be a few more minutes before everyone's healing was complete. Not that anyone really wanted to fight the mind flayer that remained... but it wasn't truly as though they had a choice. She paused as her gaze ran over Jaheira for a moment. The druid was as stoic as ever, her face betraying none of the emotion that undoubtedly still brewed under the surface. She sighed and turned back to Greywulf, gesturing back towards Jaheira with a thumb. "How've things been goin with the original groupies? Minsc is still our favorite mad ranger... but Jaheira doesn't look like she's over what happened yet. Can't say I blame her."

"No... she's been through quite a bit recently. Aside from Khalid's death, I mean." Greywulf sighed, straightening the belt of potions and pouches that hung from his waist. "I already told you about the Harpers... to be honest, I don't know how much longer she can go on like this. Not without some kind of resolution in her own mind. Everything that happens she puts on her own shoulders, and no matter how much we try... well, she won't give the burden up."

The thief-mage nodded, preparing to speak again if not for the approaching figure of Aerie coming their way. Keldorn was across the room, speaking with Minsc and Jaheira; they were apparently all set to move once more. "Ready to go?" Greywulf asked, pushing himself up the wall to a standing position along with Imoen. Aerie nodded, gesturing towards the opposite three. "I think Jaheira's finished with Minsc; Keldorn's feeling better too. As long as neither of them push too hard, they should be fine by tomorrow."

"Considering we might not even live till tomorrow, I'd say you two did fine work." Greywulf quipped, motioning for them to follow. "Let's get going then, eh?"

The six reunited before the wall of terrors they had been facing before; only one portrait stood inactivated. Imoen studied the drawing of the mind flayer, its tentacled face grotesque even in art form. Blades were raised and spells prepared; a few minor protections, hopefully enough to counter any sudden attacks or unexpected ambushes, were placed on them by Aerie and Jaheira. Minsc stepped to one side of the wall, Keldorn to the other while Greywulf moved up, sliding the stone portrait inward with the groan of gears and magic. The walls slid upward, the only other sound that of sharp intake of breath in anticipation of the fight-

Greywulf abruptly straightened, frowning as he peered down the empty hallway behind the portrait. They waited several seconds, but nothing came. No chittering of alien origin, no flash of psychic power to take over their minds or drain their very brains. Just an empty corridor, albeit a long one, but empty nonetheless. Minsc peered around the corner, stepping out fully as he lowered the Sword of Chaos. "Minsc is confused."

"It's always the last door you pick. Makes sense though... who would say, 'Ooo, I want to fight the mind flayer first!'." Imoen sighed, stepping forward as she leaned into the corridor, peering at the cobwebbed hall, wrinkling her nose as she coughed, dust permeating every square inch of the exit. "Eww... the place looks like it's been covered in old Kobold doo. Smells like it too..."

Imoen took one step inside the enclosed chamber- and all hell broke loose. The chamber they stood in rumbled, rock from the ceiling above crumbling and collapsing under the intense magical activation. The five outside the corridor hurled themselves in, just as the room behind them collapsed completely. Billows of dust and smoke curled up through the ruin, choking the very air around them. "Everyone make it all right?" Greywulf choked out, drawing his cloak up around him as he tried to breathe through the polluted air.

"I... _cough_... I think so." Jaheira managed, eyes tearing badly as she looked up, covering her mouth and nose with an arm. "But we-"

Another rumble shook the ground underneath their feet, almost throwing Aerie to the ground had Minsc not reached out to steady her. A large crack split with the sound of a thunderclap above their heads, once more sending small chunks of rock and stone tumbling from above as the very tunnel they stood in began to implode, the second step of a death trap that had been sprung. Nobody needed directions of any kind or orders on what to do; six adventurers flew down the passage, trying desperately to beat the clock in a deadly hail of death.

X X X X X X X

Yoshimo screamed a cry to the heavens, his raw voice echoing through the room he was in. Irenicus had given him leave to depart after the spell had been finished, knowing that everything had gone as the wizard had desired. Of course, he had obeyed. He could do no other. No matter how much he had wanted to draw his katanas, strike Irenicus down and free those he had called friend… he couldn't.

He was too weak. Everyone he had cared for, everything he had valued, all of it was gone now. All because he had acted without thinking. Acted out of grief and anger instead of common sense. She had always told him that he was too impulsive, and she had been right. In this case it had cost him everything. Only a fool swore a Geas of service so rashly, and he was apparently that fool. He fingered the bow he was holding, running one hand down the wood of the shaft. It had been the property of one of Galvarey's Harpers' that he had killed alongside Greywulf and the others; of Tuigan make, it was both magical and valuable.

He threw it to the side in anger, guilt ridden and miserable. He was honorless, friendless, and forever indentured to the monster he hated so much. The same monster he would obey unto death at a moment's notice. He was trapped, and truly had no way out. Too late now, anyway. He had seen Bodhi and her coven take the party away; since the vampire had returned, it was safe to assume she had followed Irenicus' orders. They were all dead now... and he longed to join them in that death. He fingered the dagger at his belt, knowing how futile the thoughts were. He had already tried several times, and to not avail. Irenicus' power would not be denied so easily; just one simple slash and he could not even manage that. He sank down on the bed beside him, weeping bitterly with his face in his hands. The sobs would have continued to rack his body for hours on end if not for the sound of his door creaking open, the commanding presence that entered drawing his attention. He looked up at Irenicus' impassive visage, knowing how weak and pathetic he seemed to the wizard before him.

"Stand."

Yoshimo obeyed, trying his best to compose himself before the bemused villain, exhaling deeply as he awaited his orders. "What would you have me do, master?"

Irenicus whipped one backhand across Yoshimo's face, his neck snapping to the side. "Cease your incessant wailing... it is of no use. You belong to me now. Am I clear?"

Yoshimo inhaled sharply, his eyes glittering with futile rage. "Yes... master."

"Good." Irenicus sneered at his impotent anger and then turned, presenting his side profile to the bounty hunter. "Now, to business at hand. It has come to my attention that my foolish sister has disobeyed my orders; rather than disposing of the Bhaalspawn as I had commanded, she has set them loose... with their weapons and equipment as well, in the maze below. Undeath has made her focus weak, her mind falter."

Yoshimo's breath caught in his throat as Irenicus snarled, still disgusted with his sister's actions. If he noticed the glimmer of hope that rose in the thief's eyes, he did not show it. "You mean to say, that Greywulf and his companions yet live? The maze has not proven their end?"

"Not yet... though it may well do so. Still, I have taken steps to rectify the problem; Bodhi and her coven are hunting the soulless ones as we speak. I doubt Greywulf will survive her hunt... but all things are possible. If the fools escape- if they evade or even defeat my sister, I must not be taken by surprise. So, my servant... what will they do?" Irenicus queried, his voice darkening with each word.

Yoshimo frowned, not quite understanding. "What will they do? If they escape, you mean?"

"Yes. You traveled with them for months. If they should escape, what will they do? How will they seek to challenge me? You will tell me, and I will be prepared for any assault they might possibly conceive of."

Rushes of possibility ran through his head unbid, every memory of his time with the party coming to a head at once. His conscious mind tried to push the thoughts away; if Greywulf and the others could come up with a scheme to defeat Irenicus, the last thing he wanted to do was spoil it... but Irenicus apparently saw his struggle, and with a snarl he tightened one fist, the Geas on his soul activating. Yoshimo doubled over in pain as fire consumed his insides, burning and scorching for each ounce of resistance he put up. The pain... too great. Too much. Far too much. He dropped to one knee as the pain subsided; Yoshimo looked up at Irenicus, sweat covering his face as despair filled his heart.

"The... the inmates. He knows he cannot match you in his weakened state, and he will try to turn the asylum inmates against you." Yoshimo managed, trying to avoid meeting the dark wizard's gaze, turning everywhere but his eyes.

"Such an action would be highly dangerous." Irenicus mused, frowning at the bounty hunter. "Are you certain? Would he truly risk such a wonderfully mad gambit?"

"Aye, he is brave... or foolish enough to do so." Yoshimo bit out, each word costing him dearly as he tried to fight, but to no avail. The hold on his soul was too powerful and he was little more than a puppet on strings at this point.

"Then prepare yourself." Irenicus growled, turning to leave. Have your equipment ready and be at my side from now until I receive word that the Bhaalspawn is dead. You still carry the wands I gave you to quell the inmates previously? You will use them when Greywulf arrives... you will be the instrument that crushes his last hopes."

Tears glistened in Yoshimo's eyes as he listened, whispering hoarsely, "Yes, my master."

The door slammed behind Irenicus as Yoshimo's shaking hands drew out the wands from his pack, the shining rods that glowed with magic and power. Each one was specifically tuned to an inmate; with one use he could render each of the powerful deviants useless at least, dead at most. Greywulf would use their power, of that he was sure. He had not been able to lie about it to Irenicus, and now the villain knew Greywulf's plans. Another burden for Yoshimo's already blackened heart to bear. He fought back the tears as he gathered the rest of his equipment and proceeded to head out towards the main experimentation room where Irenicus did most of his work-

One wand fell from its place on his belt, clattering to the stone floor. He knelt down, picking it up; he was about to place the rod in his belt again, but something stopped him. The gleam of power, the possibility contained within... more than one possibility. It could destroy life... or it could possibly save it. All depending on what he did. His decision. Even as he considered the thoughts that flitted across his brain, he felt his guts twisting into knots, nearly dropping him to the ground. No... too powerful. Too much pain for him to even consider it. His hand convulsed involuntarily, letting the wand fall again, rolling to rest before him. The edges of his vision blurred a tinted shade of red, the sound of his heart thumping in his chest was a roaring in his ears as he reached down for the wand.

_"Apologies are easy, Yoshimo..." _Keldorn's words cut into his soul and strength like a sword through flesh. He drew back, inhaling sharply as his defeated resignation melted away.

_ "It is repentance that is difficult." _Truer than he knew... so hard to do anything. So hard to act like anything but the traitor he was. Yoshimo clutched his head as he tried to calm himself, his own breaths coming quicker and shorter now, hyperventilating with each second.

_"If you truly wish to ease your own guilt, let it be through your deeds." _Deeds? No... too many deeds already. Too many betrayals, too many hurt because of his deeds... his wretched, despicable deeds-

_"Do what you know is right." _Right? Not just right. Fair. Just. Honorable. Everything he had once held dear and counted as the highest of the high, the standards of living and action that no matter what, he would not falter from-

Two possibilities. _Geas hurts like hell, making his world spin like a maelstrom of wind, hurling his equilibrium to the sky as he considered it more and more-_

One choice. _Never get another chance to make things right, never get honor back... not even this would be enough-_

Minutes passed... pain surged... and Yoshimo made his choice.


	54. Part 2: Over the Edge

_Author's Note: Well well... honestly, I don't really know where the end of this chapter and the follow-up chapter came from. Never in the original plan, to tell the truth... they just kind of came up and I went with it. Hopefully they work for everyone. Let me know, 'kay? _

Heart pounding. Palms slick with sweat and shaking... almost uncontrollably. The vision of the corridor ahead was tinted with smoke, dust and red. The sound of another large split crackling down the ceiling of the path resonated loudly, sending a shower of pebbles and dirt upon the six adventurers. Looking to the left... the paladin and the thief-mage were doing their best to keep up, the older man depending on his brute strength to shrug off any rocks that landed while the girl desperately zigzagged to keep from harm.

Over to the right- the mammoth ranger shielded his witch with his own body, staying right behind her and leaning over, using his back and plate armor to keep danger at bay. The druid took a more stylistic approach, using her spear to deflect any missiles that came too close while keeping her lithe body on the move without fail. All noble efforts, trying to survive just a few moments longer in this hellish maze under Brynnlaw. All to keep them safe. All for naught. The real threat... the real danger was no goblin or orc or even vampire that this pit had to offer... it was right there. Right in their midst. Hidden under a pale cloak of flesh, the power of murder... so close. So potent. So... perfect. Beautiful in its darkness. Wonderful in its murderous bliss.

His head turned a bit, regarding those to the left. There was a vague sense of concern it could feel, a blur of thoughts about the safety of the one it called 'sister'... _**she would be no threat. The paladin though... he would go first. Then the ranger. The druid afterwards... the rest would have fallen or run by then.**_

A jolt of pain ran through the side of his other half- or what could be construed as pain, such as it was. _**Best be careful. Can't risk the vessel... No, still moving. Exit coming up- there. Safe. Breathing heavily... almost exhausted. Almost ready for the change. But... not yet. Patient for so long- **_it could afford to be patient a while yet._** Physically exhausted not enough... must be mentally drained too. Almost more important than the body's state- **_

_**Voices. Some sort of action in the room ahead? Out of the corridor, into another trap. **_It grinned- _**no time for rest. Rest gives him clarity. Gives him focus. Can't let up. Push him. Prod him. Gently now... gently... no trace of any seduction, just determination. Give the edge. Give him the drive. There it is...**_flashes of light, creatures spawning from the Hells... _**battle. Yes. Yes... blood. Murder. Fight now. Harder. Fight now. Faster. Kill them. And that one. And the others. Now the little elf-cleric, kill her too- no. **_It drew its essence back, tittering lightly. _**Almost got too caught up. Not yet.**_

_**Still fighting it. Sensing it, have to pull away further, further... there. No sign of me. Not to him. The paladin noticed... damned senses of his. Definitely kill him first. More foes, more little ones to fight... yes. Feed on them. Killthemkillthemkillthem...**_

Greywulf shook his head, trying to ward off the intensifying bloodlust as the magic bullets of energy he had just released from his hand tore through another orc, shrieking in pain as it dropped its sword. The world was tilting, spinning again as he tried to keep focus; so much anger, pain, rage... _have to fight it off. Can't get sick again, can't lose it now. Not now. After Spellhold. After escape. Then we can rest. Then we can... we? Who is... who is we?_

The sound of a warning shout from Imoen as she fired her newly scavenged bow hastily caught Greywulf's attention; the wall opposite them slid upward, more goblins and orcs pouring out of it as they swarmed towards the six defenders. He almost felt his stomach upturn as he swung out with his staff, catching a goblin's skull with a noisy crack- but it felt good. Felt real good. Wanted to hit it again and again-

_**Killkillkill... yes. Yes, feel what is offered. Take it for your own. The blood... feel the blood. Yes, and the anger. Now rage. Now fury. Blind yourself with it, let yourself be free for me- damn. Druid's at his side, bringing clarity? Still not enough. Still not enough to break him. Bending. Bending so far, but not breaking... **_it seethed and howled in silent fury, drawing back a second time. The little fodder, the tiny beasts were not enough to bring him to his knees. _**The darkness... my darkness, squeezing his very soul but it needs help. Something to release the anger. Something to unleash the fury**_

The waves of creatures pouring out of the walls and entrances ceased; they screeched in fear and moved out, abruptly leaving their prey alone; hardly unscathed, but alone. It spat and hissed... until it saw, through the eyes of his host, what came in their stead. _**Her. Several others like her. Only one besides the wizard who could do it, at least this first time... yesss... rage is building, anger is rising... my time has come. We will conquer, the mortal and I... we will be one. I will show him the real path of power, until he will embrace it. He will embrace me, come to love me and do anything for me... just as I will do anything for him. I have arrived... and pity the mortals who would stand in my way.**_

X X X X X X X

"Here, mousey mousey." Bodhi slunk out of the darkness, her arms wrapped around her in a self-embrace of seduction, letting her eyes droop with a tiny cackle of playful wickedness. The other monsters, the goblins, gnolls, orcs... all of them had fled, leaving their master to her prey. Any who had yet remained were long gone, fled down the same paths they had used to arrive, through passages and tunnels dug through the seemingly solid stone walls and corridors. "The hunt draws to a close here and now... pity. I so enjoyed watching the six of you squirm. It was entertaining... you might've escaped, had I given you the time."

"You're early, Bodhi. You said twenty-four hours; time's not up just yet." Greywulf spat, trying desperately to maintain a clear head- _can't afford to be fuzzy now, can't be blind to the dangers- vampires behind her... probably some flanking us as we speak-_

As though listening to his inner thoughts, as jumbled as they were, the outlines of at least two dozen vampires drifted into view, all behind Bodhi, all with feral grins, expectant of the carnage... expectant of the blood. But for Greywulf... the only blood that mattered was the blood rushing through his head. Filling his vision so that everything was an outline tinted in red, warping and diffusing with each beat of his heart.

"I'm the so-called villain, remember?" the vampiress pouted, stretching her arms in preparation for the dark deeds she was set to accomplish. "I lied. Besides... Irenicus was rather displeased when he found I had granted you a reprieve. One last time, let our paths cross in blood!"

Normally, the time would be ripe for quick orders, fast plans and swift action. There were still a few precious seconds before the first of Bodhi's forces met theirs; two, maybe three if they were lucky. Enough for their leader to focus his energy on keeping them alive, on coming up with something- anything- to save them. Not this time. This time, his body was clenched tight, and the only focus in his mind was the survival of his soul. _Pain... running through my whole body... not now! Not here..._

Greywulf looked up from his doubled over position, throwing off the half-panicked glances from Aerie and Imoen, his mouth opening wide with a deafening howl, a cacophony of pain and anguish... his eyes shone bright, gleaming gold as the sound became less frightened, less pained... more angry. More raging. A snarl, a roar of hatred and absolute fury. The golden orbs in his head glowed fierce, bright... and dark. The gold vanished, replaced by a darkness, a swirling tar of black that dwarfed even the abyss in the eyes of Bodhi herself. She halted her advance, taking a step back with narrowed eyes; something crossed her face, an expression that had not been seen there for many years... fear. She hissed once, watching the transformation fully take hold... a light from the heaven above pierced the darkness, blinding all who dared look at it. It covered Greywulf, the sound of magic deafening as red mingled with the light, tinting everything with the bloody cocktail of light.

Had anybody been able to see what took place, they would have witnessed a transformation of epic proportions. Greywulf began to fade, his very body slowly disappearing while something else took its place. As the light faded, the creature beneath was revealed. Nine feet tall, covered in blood red scales, claws and spines, the creature roared in untold, hellistic fury. Its razor teeth seemed to stretch endlessly behind the creature's jaws, black sickly drool slathered all over the beast's mouth. Its ebony eyes were scanning all around, seemingly hating and burning all it gazed upon. It possessed four arms with incredible armor and claws, the spines upon them as sharp as its teeth and claws. The muscles upon the beast were bulging as though seeking to escape its skin, desiring to escape and grow even further. It stepped forth once, the ground shaking under its feet. Another roar left its mouth, and from the look in its eyes, there could be no question of what the beast intended.

Imoen's eyes blurred with tears; she stepped back, whispering to no one and at the same time everyone, "Greywulf... what have you done to yourself...?"

Bodhi shrieked as the beast leapt forward, tearing one vampire apart in a blur of claws and spines, belching forth an unholy fire to burn another into the grave. Two vampires flanked him, each one ripping their own claws and fangs into the creature's flesh, trying to drain it with their dark magics... to no avail. It shrugged them off as if nothing more than annoyances, pinning them to the ground with massive fists. Its massive fists closed around their heads, squeezing and squeezing until... their bodies disintegrated, their essences retreating back to the coffins from whence they had came. Bodhi looked back at the rest of her coven, already retreating slowly, their expressions horrified at the power before them. She spat furiously, but her anger was replaced by fear as the demon looked up, its gaze fixing on her.

It made a leap at her, Bodhi's extreme agility and dexterity only just saving herself from being trapped in its crushing embrace. She landed further down the hall, shaking her head in disbelief. "A creature of pure death and darkest shadow... Child of Bhaal, what have you become?!"

The only answer was another blast of flame that poured from the maw of the black hearted demon; it filled the hall before them relentlessly, consuming everything within... when the flames died, Bodhi was gone. The only sound was the guttural growls of the beast, and the dying embers of fire that crackled in the burnt and blackened hall- it was broken by a small, petrified voice. "Greywulf? Are... are you still there?"

It turned to face them, and for a brief second there was still hope that whatever demon had taken possession of their friend had been suppressed, that Greywulf had heard Aerie's words... it launched itself at Aerie, howling with fury. A blue wall of magic raised itself from Imoen's hands a split second before Aerie would have been decapitated; Imoen was still taken by surprise at the raw power pounding on the wall- with three hits, her magics shattered and she found herself flying across the room, caught in midair by Minsc. The demon advanced further and further, the ground rumbling under its feet as it stomped toward the closest of his former companions, Keldorn-

"Greywulf! I know you can hear me!" Jaheira's form threw itself between the paladin and the demon, her spear at guard but not striking. "If even the slightest portion of you remains within, I implore you to hear me... do not make me hurt you, Greywulf. Do not make us do this..."

The beast threw its head back, a terrible laugh that would have made the listeners cover their ears under other circumstances. It raised one of its four arms, preparing to bring it down... the eyes of the beast suddenly seemed to clear, regain focus- _**no! Still too weak, now that the dead ones are gone he pushes me away**__- _it howled again, this time in pain. The light of darkness shone again, raining power upon the earth as the beast twisted and changed, its form warping and diffusing until there was naught left of the demon. All that remained was their companion, lying in a ball on the ground curled up and smoking. His eyes were wide and bloodshot, his breaths coming in short uneven gasps as his terrified gaze met those of his five companions, slowly edging toward him. "G-Greywulf...? Is it you?" Imoen asked tentatively, reaching one hand out slowly to touch the trembling man.

"That... that was the earthly avatar of Bhaal." Keldorn murmured, his eyes never leaving the sorcerer even as his hand never left the hilt of his sword. "The Slayer walks the earth again... I had prayed I would never see the day of the prophecies' fulfillment."

"Imoen... Im..." Greywulf forced out, his voice a tortured whisper. "Kill... kill-"

"No... no, you didn't hurt anyone. You didn't kill anyone." Imoen smiled through tears, leaning forward and holding him tight. "It's gonna be okay, alright? It's... it's gonna be okay-"

"No." he whispered, pushing her away. "Kill... kill me. Kill me now."

"What?!" she recoiled, shaking her head in fear. "No, we won't! Why would you even say that?!"

"Minsc will not let any harm come to you." the ranger swore, taking Greywulf's hand. "You are stronger than this. You must fight, Greywulf. Fight hard-"

"Too powerful... too strong; kill me while you have the chan- aaaAAARRGHHH!!!!" Greywulf's desperate whisper became a scream, his body writhing in pain as he shook, convulsing on the ground. Jaheira leaned over with Minsc, the two desperately trying to hold him still- Keldorn leapt forward and pulled them back with a grunt, just before a bloody light exploded all around once more, leaving a smoldering crater on the ground where he had been lying... and the Slayer standing within it.

X X X X X X X

"You are sure? The Slayer… the avatar of the dead god himself?" Irenicus' voice contained equal amounts of curiosity and irritation, even as it reverberated through the hollow experimentation room. The glass tubes and prisons, still filled with the corpses of Shadow Thieves and Cowled Wizards that were used in his ritual to drain the soul of Greywulf, did nothing but keep the sound of his slightly bemused voice echoing through the room, though Bodhi's expression was nothing if not angry.

"He nearly killed me, brother! You should have seen him, the way his power slaughtered my cabal without difficulty-"

"And what, precisely, do you want me to say to you, sister? Was it not your fault that he survives this long? Had you disposed of him when I first asked, we would not be having this discussion. If there is fault here it lies with you. You disappoint me, Bodhi." Irenicus sneered, leaning over to place his face inches from the glowering visage of his vampire companion. "Still... this development could prove interesting, to say the least. Untapped power that if manipulated properly... could be mine to control. My former kin would stand no chance against me as it is, but if the power of the Slayer were at my command, we would have no need for the ones in the dark below."

"Do not overestimate the powers of the Slayer, brother." Bodhi snarled, still evidently angry with both herself and the wizard before her. "He was little more than an animal... I would be surprised to find out that his friends yet live."

"If that is the case, then we will have nothing to worry about." Irenicus turned to the sparking and thrumming machinery that stood before him, filled with the magic energies he had summoned for his experiments. "Do you think I have not considered the possibilities that arise from this development? Should he turn himself over to the Slayer completely, he will never escape the maze below. His friends will die, and the guilt will eat away at what remains of his mind, leaving him a mindless vessel for the taint within. If he resists it, he will waste his energy and strength suppressing the urges within and will be no match for me when he escapes. Either way he will die, and I will have everything I desire."

Bodhi considered his words; she narrowed her eyes as he went back to his work that she had interrupted. "You are confident... too confident. I have seen the eyes of the beast, brother... you have no idea what kind of fury lay within that one. All of it, directed at you... how much power can you command, Irenicus? Just how much do you think you can control?"

He gave her a withering glare, his cold gaze unwavering. "All of it, Bodhi. All of it."

X X X X X X X

"No… no…" Aerie whispered, almost crying as the Slayer screamed, looking about with the same hatred, the same darkness of soul and intent that had been seen before. Jaheira broke away from Keldorn's grip, whether her intention was to try and talk him down or to attack before the Slayer could do so, it was not sure... but the Slayer was not idle. One of the massive spines that guarded his flesh and scales was thrust out with a backhand, impaling her shoulder as it flung her into the wall beside him. She cried out with the impact, the spine sliding out of the wound easily as she clutched at it, her green eyes fluttering open with anger and pain.

The Hallowed Redeemer raced down, aiming for the back of the Slayer- Minsc grabbed Keldorn's wrists, stopping the paladin just short of slicing into the Slayer's flesh. "No!! You must not hurt him!"

The Slayer heard their altercation; it swung around, catching both Keldorn and Minsc locked together. The two whirled to see the grinning needle-toothed jaws of the Slayer; it punched out with all four arms, sending the pair hurtling. They came up in a roll, Keldorn glancing at Minsc angrily as the ranger rubbed his head. "Can you not see?! He will kill her!"

"There has to be another way!" Imoen pleaded, aiming her bow at the Slayer, though holding the arrow back. "There has to be!!"

The beast regarded her for a moment... it snorted, turning from her. Jaheira was slowly rising, clutching her wounded arm with the other, her spear far away and out of reach. She spat a curse as the beast bore down on her, dropping one hand to pull the dagger from her belt, but she screamed in pain as the demon picked her up with two arms, a third pulling the dagger from her hands and flinging it to the side while the others contracted her, squeezing the life out of her with each second.

"Greywulf… please… this is not you." Jaheira whispered, staring back into the Slayer's blank, monstrous eyes. "Please hear me... Greywulf…"

"If he harms her... if he kills her-" Keldorn growled, his sword at the demon's back, even as Minsc met his gaze.

"Then we will do what must be done." Minsc finished gravely, finally drawing the Sword of Chaos and placing it beside the Hallowed Redeemer. The Slayer glanced behind him once, as though deciding whether or not they were worth his time, then turned back to Jaheira. Putrid steam rose from his jaws as the mist from its breath sprayed in her face with a roar, opening his jaws to bite down upon her unprotected head- she had been muttering an incantation as soon as his eyes had left her, and she finished with no time to spare. Vines sprung from the ground, blasting through the concrete and rock beneath their feet, wrapping themselves around all four arms of the Slayer, tangling between his feet as they fought the raw muscle of the demon.

It took the Slayer by surprise; his arms fell away at once, dropping Jaheira as Minsc flew in like lightning, picking her up and leaping out of the wildly swinging range of the entangled beast. It howled once, and within seconds it was apparent that the creature could not be bound. It snapped the vines like straw, breaking the spell and ripping the vines from the ground that tried to keep his legs unmoving. It fixed on Jaheira, maddened that its prey had escaped. The beast raised one arm, ready to smash the ranger that held her from him-

"Greywulf… you are stronger than this… please hear me. For what we share… please hear me…" Jaheira's weak voice was just barely enough to carry through the chamber; it was as if some insect or annoyance had begun circling the Slayer's head. It shook its head repeatedly, trying to shake off whatever had reached it; it finally stopped, dark eyes falling on Jaheira again, but this time... this time it was different.

This time his eyes were not a deathly black; they were those of a pained mortal, suffering emotionally and spiritually. It gazed down upon the battered and broken body of Jaheira, the blood oozing from her shoulder wound and the broken bones that his iron grip had caused... the blood that rested on those massive, demonic hands. The Slayer looked down at its hands, hunched over and gurgled... shame, anguish, and pain covering its face. It took a step back, holding one arm with another, as though suppressing every ounce of hatred and power that was trying to get out- it turned and bolted, disappearing through the doorway that Bodhi had arrived through.

"Greywulf!" Imoen raised one hand, darting to the doorway, but he was already gone. She whirled to the others, her eyes wide with concern. "C'mon! We have to find him; convince him to come back!"

Jaheira tried to suppress a moan but failed as she slid back down to the ground, clutching her arm tightly. Keldorn grimaced, glancing at Imoen for a moment. "Do you truly think that is wise, all things considered? He nearly killed us all!"

"But he didn't! You saw his eyes... he's in pain! He's suffering!" Imoen insisted desperately, her head whipping back and forth between her companions in search of support. "He's my brother... I won't just let him go like this! Now am I going alone or are ya coming with me?!"

"Child, I can barely move... don't you see that it might be best if we do not find him, for some time, at the least?" Jaheira managed, wheezing for breath as Minsc laid her down gently. Aerie knelt by her, letting the magics of her divine spellcraft seep into Jaheira's body, slowly shrinking the size of the hole in her shoulder, if not closing it completely. "We are all worried for him... but Keldorn's words hold merit. He could have... would have killed me, had we not intervened. Whatever battle rages within him now... it is strong enough for him to seek solace for a time. We should not be hasty in our actions-"

"Hasty?!" Imoen said in disbelief. "He risked everything to save me... all of you did! We owe him that much... please."

Minsc looked down at Jaheira, Keldorn still holding her up... Jaheira exhaled in pain, and then nodded, muttering her own magics to lessen the pain of the wound. Imoen didn't bother to say any more as the five of them pushed forward, following down the path that their friend had fled, abandoning all in his madness. A large presence sidled up next to the young thief-mage as they hurried as fast as Jaheira's wounds would allow them; she glanced up to see Minsc beside her, a somber smile on his face as he met her gaze. She clasped his hand tightly in return, a pleading look on her face.

"I understand how you feel, little Imoen." Minsc whispered, quiet enough that only the two of them could hear. "He is your brother... and your friend. He is Minsc's friend too... and no matter what he fights within, we will be there to help him."

"Thanks Minsc... it means a lot to me. I just... I don't think I can hurt him. Even if it comes down to it, I don't think I can." she said, trying to keep a smile on her face despite the tears beginning to run down her face as she slowly broke down. "He's my brother... an' I love him. I love him too much to hurt him, Minsc..."

"Sometimes... sometimes to show our love, we must do the things that are hardest." Minsc said gently, leaning beside her, to wrap one arm around her shoulder, comforting the sniffling girl. "Minsc knows this will be hard, no matter what. Be strong, little one. Minsc will be strong for both of us."

Imoen nodded, letting Minsc's large hands wipe away some of the tears from her face, the ranger tugging her close as they led the way in pursuit of their lost comrade-

A flurry of wings and motion blew in front of them, stopping the group short as the object in such frantic motion buzzed to a halt before them, spinning in tight circles before finally facing them completely. A small imp, just about as big as Keldorn's torso fluttered before them, his glittering yellow eyes blinking somewhat stupidly as it stared at the wary newcomers. "Hmm... new ones? Mortals? Yes, yes... Me sees you like the ones from before! Happy me is to sees you!"

"We have seen too much treachery and danger down here to brook any tricks or deception." Keldorn declared, drawing his blade and stepping forward. The imp gulped nervously at the sight of the gleaming holy blade, then turned back to the paladin who wielded it, his eyes hinting at suspicion. "Just what do you want with us, little demon?"

"Oh, mees here to help, that's all." the imp nodded vigorously. "You in last section of maze under asylum! Last part of maze. So... now you in real maze!"

"I think he's right." Aerie said nervously, peeking around the corner from where the imp was floating. The path split off in numerous directions, all up and down the hallway that was visible from there. The imp shrugged, or what could be passed as a shrug while floating before them, gesturing behind him. "Big maze. Lots of traps and monsters and stuff... but me helps? Me Riddle Imp. Asks riddles; you gets right, I show you part of way! You gets wrong... I spring traps. Easy, right? You wants to play now?"

"We don't care about your games!" Imoen glared, her eyes still red. "Did you see my brother come this way? You had to have, right?"

"Brother?" the imp frowned. "Brother? No humans I see through here. Just big scary demon. For a moment, me afraid there be new Riddle master for maze. But he just rush through halls of maze. I hear lots of crashing and screaming. Me not want to meet him in maze."

"That's him." Keldorn said grimly, glancing down at Jaheira as though assuring himself of her ability to continue. She suppressed a quivering of the legs, keeping herself up without wobble. She fixed the imp's eyes with her own and ground out, "Can you find him? Is it possible for you to track the demon you saw enter?"

"Oh yes!" the imp beamed, puffing his scrawny little chest out. "His aura of magic easy to follow! Like smell of human sacrifice to Balor! Can't miss!"

"Then you will take us to Greywulf." Minsc frowned, shifting the weight of the Sword of Chaos that he carried in his hands.

The imp nodded and then leaned back, reclining in the air. "Okeday. Times for first question. You answer and me brings you good. Hmm... what haven'ts been asked for a whiles-" Its voice was cut off by a strangled cry as Minsc's hand closed around its throat, a dark edge to the ranger's voice. "Minsc did not ask you a question. He said you will take us."

The imp nodded feverishly, wheezing as Minsc released the miniature demon. It rubbed its neck for a moment, fluttered a bit of a distance from the ranger in case of a repeat performance, then motioned for the group to follow him. Imoen continued on as a woman possessed, never wavering as she tried to stay strong... so hard, so worried about her brother- she felt a hand rest on her shoulder. She turned to see Keldorn standing beside her, his face grim but comforting. "I... I apologize for earlier, Imoen. I was caught in the moment... perhaps I did not consider how traumatic this must be for you."

"No, it's... its okay." she managed, pulling away from him. "I know you're a paladin an' all... gotta keep the Realms safe from evil, right? My brother probably ranks pretty high on that list right now..."

"His fate looks bleak, that is true enough... but there is still good inside him. I saw it in his eyes; you did too." Keldorn assured her as the imp swung left abruptly, the group hurrying to keep up with their guide. "So long as he can fight this beast within, we shall fight it too. I will not give up on him so easily. And... neither should you. Thank you for reminding me of that."

A squeal from the imp ahead caught both their attention; a ground-shaking roar from before them echoed through the stone hallways of the maze. Two large beasts stepped out from the path before them, wielding greataxes with ease. The bull-headed minotaurs snarled and spat, their eyes gleaming with hatred as they fixed upon the five mortals and the imp that backed away, Aerie glaring at the imp with desperation and anger. "I thought you were going to lead us around the traps and monsters?!"

"You tells me to find your friend... you says nothing about monsters." the imp shrugged, quickly darting behind the five he led. "Yous take care of this and I keep leading you. Sounds good?"

"Sounds great." Keldorn growled, raising his sword.

X X X X X X X

Anguish...

Pain...

The sobs of his grief could be heard faintly ringing through the corridors of the hall as he stumbled along, but more so through the corridors of his mind. He lurched to one side as he kept one foot in front of the other, trying to put as much distance between his friends and himself- his tear filled eyes fell upon the sight of his bloodstained hands and his stomach lurched again. He stopped for a moment, feeling his stomach rise again... he would have vomited had he not done so twice already; there was nothing left for his stomach to expel.

He wiped his eyes again, pushing himself forward as he tried to keep his eyes up. Couldn't let them find him. Too much risk... too much risk that he could change again, could kill them- the sight of Jaheira, so wounded and hurt by him drove another shriek from his throat, only drowned by his boot tripping on a stone that sent him to the floor. It was all over... he had failed. Failed them all, failed Gorion, failed his sister... Irenicus could keep his soul, for all he cared now. All he could do was pray for it to end, for some monster to find him and end his life before those he loved found him. Even now, the blood was pounding in his head, demanding to be let loose again... but no. Not again. Never again. Too enticing... too potent. The sound of an earthshaking roar behind him caught his attention; he turned with a tear and blood-stained face, hoping to spy the means to his final end... but there was nothing.

The sounds of battle reached his ears, his eyes widening as he heard an all-too familiar battle cry.

"Minsc... damn you all..." he whispered, pushing himself back up as he kept moving forward. They would find him. He had to keep moving, or they would find him, they would love him, they would do everything in their power to help him... and he would kill them for it. He would rip their arms off, tear their bodies to shreds and feast on their remains- no! The Slayer talking again, whispering things to him, trying to take him again-

"GET OUT OF MY HEAD!!" he screamed, falling to his knees as he clutched his head, shaking in torment. The whispers subsided briefly; he pried his eyes open, spying a doorway before him. He could still hear his friends in the maze behind him, still fighting... and if he could hear them, they were still too close. He shot forward, hurtling through the doorway and tumbling into the room, hoping to find some kind of solitude, some kind of safety... a reddish light filled the room as he entered, glaring enough to draw his tortured attention.

Greywulf frowned as he gazed to the center of the room- there stood an altar of sorts in the middle, a pedestal in the middle of it. A golden hue covered every inch of the metal and stone, and at the pinnacle of the pedestal sat a gem the size of his head. It was flawless, cut in perfection and beauty unmatched. Almost immediately the whispers started again... but they were different this time. This time it wasn't the harsh, bloodthirsty voice of the Slayer that flowed through his head... it was smooth, silky, enticing. It's words were a blur, indistinguishable... but perfectly clear. It promised anything. Everything. Perfection. Like the gem itself, an entire world of perfection. Everything he had ever desired... all for a touch. Just one... Greywulf found himself on his feet again, slowly stumbling forward, slowly raising one arm as he moved to the gem-

The sound of crunching bone under his feet managed to draw his attention for a half-second; all around the room were bones, some bleached white and others with meat and rotting flesh still hanging off them. Swords and shields all sat unused and covered in cobwebs, all without sign of struggle or battle... just neglected and alone. The highest number lay around the gem itself; many skeletons were scattered by the altar, their positions such that they had fallen... and died, while kneeling at the gem's resting place, their hands raised to the sparkling example of perfection and bliss.

Somewhere, somehow, the bit of Greywulf's rational mind left spoke to him, warned him of the obvious danger... but it was too much. A chance to find happiness. A chance to have everything he had ever wanted. He wasn't sure how, but it would grant it. But most importantly... a chance to keep his friends safe from the taint he carried within. If this gem, so lovely and so desirable in its form... if it had done everything he saw around him- Greywulf reached out without hesitation.

X X X X X X X

"This ways! Come ons, before more of the bullmens come!" The imp screeched in alarm as the five he led did their best to follow, limping and stumbling away from the scene of carnage that lay behind them. The minotaurs had fallen, but not without a terrible price. Keldorn carried Jaheira in his arms, the druid unconscious at last, her wounds far too much for her to do anything but collapse and pray for healing. Aerie had summoned every bit of divine strength she could pray for to help Minsc onward, his every breath a strain after the gash on his chest.

The final leg of this Spellhold gauntlet was proving most costly... it had almost claimed three of their number now, and they had yet to face Bodhi and Irenicus. Imoen wiped the sweat from her brow as they kept moving; they couldn't let him leave. They had to find him... had to! He was their leader, their soul- he was everything to her. She couldn't just let him go like this. She glanced over at Keldorn, still hurrying onward, a sheen of sweat and blood covering both his armor and face. How could he understand?

How could the paladin realize what Greywulf meant to her? He couldn't... couldn't, no matter what he said or tried to express. If it came down to it... she'd do everything in her power to protect Greywulf. If that meant protecting him from Keldorn, she'd do that too. No matter what, she'd never give up on him. Never. The sight of the imp turning a corner changed her path as well, the group as a whole finally entering the room that they had been led too-

"By Torm... what kind of graveyard is this?" Keldorn whispered in shock.

Imoen stumbled back, looking at the dozens of dead men in the room, all the skeletons and former maze-walkers who lay dead in the room... all around the gem in the center. The gem that... that Greywulf was kneeling by-?

"Greywulf!!" Imoen darted forward, avoiding the corpses that littered the chamber. She slid to his side, shaking him, turning his limp body to look at him- his fingers never left the gem, seemingly stuck there by some force that would not be denied. "Greywulf, it's me! It's Imoen!!"

There was no response; she whirled to look at the imp angrily, the demon shaking his head with a sigh. "What happened?! What's been done to him??!"

"Eh... sorries. Me done all me can. Looks like your friends is gone for good. Shouldn't have touched the gem."

"You didn't answer me!" Imoen growled, climbing to her feet and scrambling to the imp, grabbing it with fury in her eyes. "What did this gem do?"

"Okays, okays! Don't be so pushy!" the imp protested, grumbling as it faced the adventurers with him, or at least the ones who yet remained conscious. "Very specials gem. Very specials. Whoever touches it gets vision of new world. Good world!"

"What do you mean, a 'New World'?" Aerie asked, slowly resting Minsc down beside a wall as she moved to treat him with the remaining healing supplies she carried.

"Like... like dream!" the imp brightened. "Think of best dream you ever had! Like one where you big tough Balor with dozens of succubus's... oh, that my dream. Probably not yours. Anyways, think of best dream you ever had. That what gem give you. Make your greatest wish come true... in your mind."

"So he's dreaming then?" Keldorn frowned, laying Jaheira beside Minsc as he uncorked a healing potion, bringing it to her lips. "How do we awaken him?"

"Oh, not really a dream... feels and looks like one though. And you can't's wake him up. Only he can wakes himself up. How gem works." the imp bobbed his head side to side. "But he never wake up, so it kind of moot point, yes?"

"What do you mean he'll never wake up?!" Imoen growled. "Why not?"

"What, you stupid?" the imp laughed. "He in perfect world! Perfect for him, right? Greatest wish comes true in there. Why he want come back here? No one ever comes out of gem. Look arounds!"

Imoen's blood froze as she took in the bodies and corpses of those who had come here, who had touched the gem... and never returned. Their minds had stayed in the gem while their bodies slowly decayed, wasted away... "No!"

Imoen tore herself away from the thought and glared at the gem. "Greywulf wouldn't do that to us! He'll come back!"

"Imoen... I don't know about that." Keldorn's voice was grim as he gazed at the body of Greywulf slumped by the gem. "Think about it... his whole world crumbling around him, brought to the depths of despair... and given a world where all of that is taken from him. All his pain, all his suffering gone. In its place is the perfect world he always wanted... if what the imp says is true, Greywulf is in the closest thing to heaven on earth. Can we truly expect him to come back to this hell so easily?"

The only answer to his question was the echo of the insane little laughs of the Riddle Imp.


	55. Part 2: Brave New World

The world flashed, burned before their eyes- it was as though their souls were being torn from their body, pulled without feeling and without reason. That was a lie though. There was good reason for what they were about to do, where they were about to go. Their leader, their companion, their friend... her brother. Imoen ignored the pain that racked them as the gem brought them further and further along into the world of its own design, of this so-called perfect world... the one place they could find Greywulf and the one place they had to pull him out of. She thought back to what the imp had told them, just brief seconds ago...

_"Me not knows what to tell you... sorries. Um... you wants me to keep leading you to exit nows?" the imp shrugged, glancing at the limp figure of Greywulf, still kneeling beside the now coruscating gem along with the dozens of other skeletons, similar fools who had given up their reality and life for a taste of non-existent perfection._

_"No! We're not going anywhere without Greywulf." Imoen insisted, poking the imp in his little reddish chest. "Now c'mon! If there's no way for us to wake him up, then isn't there some way we can... I don't know, talk to him? Get into his head, like what you guys did with me?"_

_"I don't know... I'm not nearly as powerful as Greywulf when it comes to that kind of thing." Aerie frowned, biting her lip nervously as she considered the possibility. "And he had a strong bond with you to begin with, making it easier for him to go inside... I don't think I can handle it. Maybe you might have better luck, Imoen."_

_"Then I'll do it." Imoen said defiantly, rolling up her sleeves as she prepared to head over towards her brother-_

_"Wait, child." Jaheira's weak, barely conscious voice stopped her, the druid's arm catching her wrist as she tried to walk by. "Stealing... stealing into someone's mind is not like stealing into their house. It is always dangerous... add the gem to this and you might do more harm than good here."_

_"She is right." Keldorn said quietly, sitting across from Jaheira with his fingers clasped before his face. "Whatever game is being played here is operating on different rules than to which we are accustomed. The gem is the problem here... I feel it must also be the solution."_

_"What about the gem?" Aerie questioned. "If... well, if it brought Greywulf to whatever world he's experiencing now, maybe it can bring us there as well!"_

_All eyes turned to the imp, who appeared to be in deep thought, raising one hand after the other as though weighing the idea on invisible scales... he winced, then nodded once. "Maybes. It coulds work, but me never seen it done. Gem probably can onlys make one world at time, so if yous touch gem, you not get world of own... you go to his world. Makes sense. Yes. Yup. Makes sense."_

_"Then we should go. Right now." Imoen stood, looking out at the others. "Who else is coming with me?"_

_"I shall accompany you." Keldorn nodded. "If this world is as real as I believe it will be, a strong sword will be necessary."_

_"Then you'll need my magic, too." Aerie nodded, pushing herself to her feet and joining the other two. Jaheira groaned once, trying to use the wall to help her stand... and failed. She coughed, then muttered a small incantation to ease her pain. Keldorn glanced at the two girls with him, then the two injured fighters leaned up against the wall. _

_"Hmm... perhaps it might not be wise to leave both Jaheira and Minsc unattended. Imoen... I know how much you love Greywulf, but if Jaheira and Minsc need aid while we are away-"_

_"Why me?!" Imoen protested angrily, Keldorn obviously considering his words very carefully as he looked at her face. "I'm not even a healer! Give me one good reason why I should even consider staying!!"_

_"I... I only try to point out that you might be too close... too emotionally involved in this to think clearly or make the necessary judgment calls." Keldorn had little time to make any further argument; Imoen walked right up to him and stared him down, her eyes narrow and dark._

_"You have got one hell of a nerve to tell me that." she turned on her heel and stalked over to the gem, awaiting the others. _

_"Um... excuse me?" the imp piped up, breaking off the tension. "If yous worried about monsters, don't be. Theys know about gem. Makes them scared. Theys don't come in this place. Your friends be safe without you."_

_"What about your injuries?" Aerie asked, looking Jaheira and Minsc over. "Will you two be all right without more healing?"_

_"I still have a few healing potions left, as does Minsc." Jaheira sighed with effort, craning her neck down to look at her belt. "What both of us really need is rest; Minsc is getting some now, and I will be joining him promptly whether I like it or not. Go on. Bring him back."_

_Keldorn, Aerie, and Imoen all exchanged glances for a second... the paladin nodded, walking with the elf to the gem alongside Imoen. They raised their hands, slowly placing them over the gem, right next to Greywulf's hand-_

_"Waits! Me thinks of something else!" the imp waved his arms, grabbing their attention a split second before they would have touched the magical artifact. "World you going too is Greywulf's world, yes? That means that he still controls leavings of world. If you can't finds him or convinces him to go home... yous stuck in there till dying too."_

_The three listened to the imp's warning... all three of their hands rested on the gem as one._

The world strobed again, the feeling of an entire universe being summoned and created all at once as she entered into it- Imoen gasped for breath as she felt herself on solid ground once more, her feet resting on rock as her eyes adjusted to the feel of a world entirely foreign and yet entirely similar all at once. She glanced to the side with shaking head, exhaling gratefully as she spied both Keldorn and Aerie with her, the two of them looking just as disoriented as her as they struggled to regain both their wits as well as their balance, not necessarily in that order.

The first thing to return was her vision; Imoen blinked several times repeatedly, trying to focus her eyes on the ground beneath her hands and knees; it hurt, digging into the palms of her exposed hands as though rough, covered in jagged edges. The overlying color of everything was a dirty gray, mingled with reddish brown. She finally saw enough to pick herself off the ground; the rock beneath her was rough and broken, gravel filled dirt, burnt and covered in ash. Imoen frowned as she wobbled a moment, trying to keep herself standing up as she shook her head again, trying desperately to clear the fog from her head-

"By the gods... it can't be."

Keldorn's whisper grabbed her attention; Imoen looked up to where the paladin's empty gaze was lying. Off in the distance stood the outline of a city, lit up in the morning horizon... the sight was horrific. Even from a distance, it was painfully obvious that whatever city stood before them had been sacked and destroyed. Towers were crumbling and barely standing, remnants of what had once been powerfully built walls and gates were in ruin, allowing any who sought entrance to the desolate wasteland their opening.

Imoen took a step forward, freezing as she heard the familiar crunch of bones under her feet. She barely heard the cry of alarm from Aerie as the three of them took in the ground and landscape; bones and dead men littered the road and field, along with burnt and scorched earth. Thousands upon thousands of dead lay in the fields and roads, all slain in battle. Their weapons lay with them, and blood stained the ground a permanent red to their sight.

"I... I don't understand." Aerie stammered, taking in the war torn sights before them, almost shaking in disbelief. "This is... what kind of world is this? Where are we?"

Keldorn glanced off to the side, noting a particularly large clump of seemingly random wood; he looked back at the outline of the city, such as it was, then shook his head in sorrow. "The answer to your first question can only be given by Greywulf himself. As for your second, we're on the road to Athkatla."

Aerie gasped, but the wreckage Keldorn had noted told the truth. It was an old sign, broken and half-burnt, but the name of the city could still be made plain on the flesh of the wood. Keldorn exhaled loudly, then shouldered his pack and armor, steadying himself as he moved on, traveling the rest of the way to the city. Imoen frowned, sprinting a bit to catch up. "Where are we going? You think there's still anyone left in there?"

"Undoubtedly. Most of the city still looks habitable from here, if in poor condition. If we are to find any leads or information about what has happened, it will be in the city itself."

The three travelers, strangers to this world and its history continued on the road to Athkatla, passing fields that had once produced crops and held farms, families... no more. Anything that had not been torn down seemed to have been put to the sword; while no bodies had been left out in plain sight, it was more than apparent that those who had been killed here had died violent deaths. Terrible deaths. The sight turned Aerie's head, the elf unable to gaze upon the sight for too long. Keldorn noticed, drawing close to her in sympathy and understanding. He placed one hand on her shoulder, sighing as he gazed over the devastation too.

Aerie smiled in appreciation, trying to compose herself as what had once been the great arch overlooking the city gate finally came within reach, though the monument was broken and lying in disrepair, collapsed some time ago. Still, they passed through, entering the former City of Coin. Despite the outside condition of the city, the pretense of being deserted, it was not so. Scattered remnants of people still residing in the city were evident, shown through makeshift homes and repaired buildings. Nothing was in perfect or even good condition, but there was undoubtedly people still living in the once mighty city of Athkatla. Keldorn glanced to the side, eyeing a pair off to the side, huddled in shadow, a mother and young boy. They watched the three adventurers pass silently, before returning to whatever work they had been at previously.

"What happened here?" Aerie whispered, watching another group of civilians slide out of sight at their approach. "Everyone's so afraid... so terrified. What could have done this?"

"I'm almost afraid to find out." Keldorn murmured. "A war of some kind, no doubt... but the nature of it I cannot guess. Perhaps... perhaps we might still be able to find some kind of information."

"Where? The first time we try to talk to one of these locals they'll either lynch us or run in terror." Imoen responded, sidestepping a pile of debris.

"The one place that might... might still be standing." Keldorn said, though worry was evident in his voice. "The Order of the Radiant Heart. If any structure still stands, it will be the High Hall. The men there would defend it to the last... Torm help us if it has fallen too."

X X X X X X X

"Keldorn- I... I'm sorry." Aerie's voice rang hollow in the air as Keldorn stood before what had once been the High Hall of the Radiant Heart. The once regal statues of paladins and knights of old that had lined the walkway leading to the mighty oak doors were torn down and scattered in pieces. The gleaming white pillars and trim that had overlaid the whole building were dirty and burnt now, only half-connected to the main building, seemingly ready to fall at any time. Part of the roof was collapsed, sagging in the midst of the building's center, no doubt missing vital support pillars that had kept it intact. The symbol of the Order, once displayed so prominently above the door was lying on the ground before them, splintered and broken.

Keldorn did not answer Aerie; he knelt down and picked up the wood plaque that had held the symbol of the Order, watching it fall to pieces in the grip of his gauntlet. He let it fall, straightening as he stood once more, his head bowed in silence. Imoen cringed, then approached, unsure of what to say to the man. "I know it's probably no help, but it... well, it wasn't real. None of this is."

He did not say anything, only looked up to the sky, the faintest glimmer of a tear shimmering in one of his eyes... before looking back down at Imoen, a weak smile crossing his features. "I know. But it pierces my heart no less to see it here and now like this. Not the building itself, just bricks and mortar that can be rebuilt. But the ideals it represented, the way of the paladin..."

Aerie approached to his other side, looking at the barely standing building before them with a sigh, asking, "What do we do now? I still don't even understand why this place is so... so horrid. Did the imp lie to us, maybe? He said it was a perfect world-"

"No... not exactly." Keldorn shook his head, motioning for them to continue onward, sidestepping the piles of burnt wood and broken plaster and marble. "He said it was a world where Greywulf's greatest wish had come true. A perfect world for him. The imp said nothing about the consequences of that wish for the rest of Faerun."

"But what kind of wish could have wrought this kind of destruction, this kind of pain?" Aerie asked, though the hesitancy in her expression and voice spoke of a reluctance to even hear the answer. "Maybe... it isn't possible that he could have-"

"Don't even say it." Imoen cut her off, shaking her head vehemently, though her face was a bit paler than usual as she spoke, trying to convince Aerie- and perhaps herself- of the words she spoke. "He would never wish it. It's not him-"

"But if he did wish to become the new Lord of Murder, than we must be prepared to deal with that possibility." Keldorn said with narrowed eyes, stating the fear in everyone's hearts. "Come. Let us investigate the rest of this building... or what remains of it. If this world is anything like our own, which I believe it is with the exception of Greywulf's interference, than we might find some clue as to the events that have transpired within my old quarters."

He pushed on one of the doors, the large oaken portal creaking open, letting a jagged beam of light shine across the dirt and dust covered floor. Their footsteps echoed in the formerly regal entrance hall of the Order, the beautiful banners and statues that had adorned the Hall now torn and burnt beyond recognition. The entrance corridor abruptly opened into the vast expanse of the main hall, once housing the training spaces and head quarters of the greatest force for good in the Realms. Hundreds upon hundreds of paladins and knights had been dubbed and commissioned within those hallowed halls; many more had been rejected or failed their final tests.

The old paladin pushed himself over a support beam that had fallen and blocked part of the way across the engraved ceramic floor tiles and the inscriptions written upon them. The two girls jumped it as well, following him to a side room, the door half off its hinges. Keldorn grasped the impedance with both hands, grunting as he yanked on it, the wood splintering at the hinges, dead from the inferno it had already suffered. Keldorn glanced inside quickly as though to ensure that the room was safe, then gestured for the girls to follow him.

Aerie coughed once as the two of them stepped through the cloud of ash and dust that he had left in his wake of opening the door for them, squinting through to see the contents of the room. Like all the others, it had hardly been left untouched by whatever had been through the city; his desk was broken at the right legs, leaning over on its side, papers and some personal belongings scattered through the room, those that had not been burnt at least. Aerie knelt and picked up a few pieces of paper, her quick eyes scanning the writing on them, looking for anything of importance. She looked up at Keldorn, hoping he had found something; his hands were clutching a small picture frame, most likely one that had previously been resting on the desk. Even from a short distance, she could see what rested inside the dirtied but unbroken frame: Keldorn smiled as he gazed on a small portrait of his wife, the woman holding her baby son in her arms while her daughter held to her side tightly.

"Hey, what's this thing?"

Imoen's curious voice caught both of them off guard; Keldorn tucked the picture into his pack and turned to Imoen, who was holding an ornate helmet, its visor raised as she looked it over, inside and out. Keldorn stifled a laugh as he took the armor from her, checking it himself. "I haven't worn this in years... when one becomes a full-fledged member of the Order, they are gifted with two things, a helmet and a cup. Both symbolize the unity and bond between the brothers and sisters of the Order; the cup to show our unity outside of combat, the helmet to show our unity on the field. Some choose to wear their helmets into battle, though I found it to be more of an impedance than anything. The visor always obstructed my view of the battlefield, though I did not hesitate to wear it in single combat."

"Well let's see it." Imoen laughed, gesturing for him to put the helmet on. "C'mon, I wanna see how you look in full knightly regalia."

Keldorn rolled his eyes but obliged her, sliding the headpiece on, clamping the visor shut at her urging. "There. Satisfied?"

"Satisfied that you three are nay more than grave robbing villains!" an accented voice rung out strong in the hall behind them; all three whirled to see a fully armored figure standing in the hall behind them, a large shield with an emblazoned family crest on it and a large, obviously enchanted mace in the other. His body was covered in full plate mail, and a helmet covered his head and face as well. He raised the blunt weapon high, using it to point at the three frozen adventurers, accusing in his form. "This place may be a ruin, but I shall not see it be looted by the likes of thee! Stand down your weapons, curs!"

"You misunderstand-" Keldorn started, but the armored man shook his head, keeping his shield at guard and his mace at the ready. "I understand fully, villain! You will remove the sword at your belt, and most certainly remove the helmet that you dishonor with your unworthy head! The Order may be gone, but its spirit will never die, not so long as I draw breath! Now stand down your weapons or perish."

"Believe me when I say we do not wish to be your enemy... none of us does." Keldorn said through gritted teeth as both Aerie and Imoen slowly laid their weapons on the ground, the armored man just close enough to all of them that nobody was out of range. "Still, if you insist on disarming us, my sword first..."

Keldorn slowly drew the blade he wore from his sheath- it flew the last few inches out with a rush of wind, Keldorn letting out a shout of war as the blade cut down towards their opponent, his mace rising to block a split second before the Hallowed Redeemer would have literally disarmed him. The shield came around to bash into Keldorn's side, sending him stumbling back over the desk, crashing through it as Aerie and Imoen scattered, their weapons forcibly abandoned. Keldorn looked up just in time to see the mace rushing down towards his chest; he rolled away, coming up slow in the armor he wore but quickly enough to circle where the exit of the room was now at his back.

He slowly began moving towards it, watching the mace-wielding figure intently... he attacked swiftly, Keldorn shunting the mace aside with both hands on the hilt of his sword, letting the momentum take him out of the room completely. Keldorn ducked back again, avoiding a swing that shattered the remnants of the door that had been left intact, giving Keldorn an opportunity to strike... if not for the shield. The blade rang loudly as it bounced off the shield, evidence of the protective magics surrounding it. The two antagonists circled slowly, each one watching the other for any sign of weakness... Keldorn feinted a strike to the left, instead bringing the blade underneath for a chop at the legs, something the armored man would be hard pressed to jump over.

Instead, he stepped back out of range of the swing, moving back in just as swiftly to bring the mace down towards Keldorn's head. The paladin's eyes widened as he swung his sword up, catching part of it with one hand as the edge of it caught the flanges of the mace, Keldorn struggling backwards as the mace pushed harder and harder, driving him downward-

A blast of magic missiles hammered the armored man, his cries almost drowned by the numerous explosions of magic that peppered his chest plate and side. He stumbled away, falling to the ground with a clatter, completely taken by surprise by the magical onslaught. His mace rolled to one side, the man looking past Keldorn to see both Aerie and Imoen standing back at the entrance to the room, their hands raised with magic energy snapping and sizzling at their fingertips. His attention turned back to Keldorn as the paladin lowered his sword, resting it at his neck. An audible growl could be heard issuing from the man's helmet. "I should not have been surprised to find you have no honor in you. Go on then and claim your kill, tomb raider! The gods will take vengeance for your sacrilege of these hallowed grounds, though my arm was unable to do so!"

Keldorn regarded the downed man for a moment... then took a step back, gesturing to his opponent's mace with his blade. "Take it. Take your weapon and fight. Both of you... stay out of the rest of this battle."

The girls were almost as surprised as the man on the ground; he was slow to rise, but he did stand, clutching his mace tightly again. "You... you allow me to finish this fight with honor? Perhaps there is some glimmer of worth in you after all. Hmm... tell me your name, warrior. I would know whom I face to preserve the honor of the Order."

Keldorn raised his sword to salute, gripping it tightly. "As I said, I have no desire to battle you, if your allegiance lies with the Order. As for my name, you look upon Keldorn Firecam, paladin of Torm and surviving member of the Radiant Heart!"

The man was silent for a moment... he roared a challenge, his voice displaying more anger than before, if possible. "Liar! Base evildoer! You would try and take the name of Sir Keldorn himself?! Pass yourself, a villainous robber of the dead, as one of the greatest paladins to have ever walked the Realms? I shall see you dead for this insult, this shameless act of treachery!"

He charged forward, the ferocity of his attack taking Keldorn by surprise. The mace came across his side even as his shield drove forward, giving him the choice of which attack to defend. Keldorn braced himself, moving his sword to block the mace- he grunted with the body blow that came with the man's shield bash. Still, he let himself move with the momentum, swinging to the side and chopping down at the man's legs from behind. His opponent spun just in time, letting his mace fall low, deflecting the attack as the mace pinned the sword to the ground. Keldorn tried to sweep his blade out and around to free it, but he nearly froze at the sound of the man's words, spilling from the depths of his helmet... chants and incantations to Helm himself. He heard a shout of alarm from Aerie, apparently recognizing the words and prayers being spoken, but it was too late. Flame spilled from the air itself, striking where Keldorn had been just seconds ago. Backpedaling out of danger, he found himself wide open for the armored man to sweep forward, pressing him back further and further until he was leaned over the fallen pillar, both their free hands clutching each other's weapons in a mutual pin. Keldorn blinked the sweat from his eyes as they remained locked there, neither willing to relinquish the grip on their weapons...

"You... fight well. A cleric, aren't you?" Keldorn forced out, trying to find some way of getting the man's weight off him and yet retain his own blade. "Why will... you not believe me? Can you not see we are on the same side?!"

"Robbing the dead I can perhaps... forgive, for these times are hard for us all." the man above said with great effort, pushing harder as Keldorn felt the grip he had on his own sword beginning to slip... "But defiling the memory of Sir Keldorn, one of my mentors and heroes... I shall not, will not let pass!"

With a shout of victory, the Hallowed Redeemer was sent clattering to the ground. A gasp of alarm came from Aerie as the man raised his mace high, grasping with the other at Keldorn's helmet. "And now, fiend, I shall see your face before you perish under Helm's fury!"

The helmet was sent sliding across the floor... a choke of disbelief echoed from the man's throat as he gazed down upon the sweaty, tired visage of Sir Keldorn Firecam. "By Helm, it cannot be! No... impossible! Impossible!"

He stepped back, letting Keldorn rise to his feet, bending over and picking the Hallowed Redeemer up before sheathing it carefully. "Yes, it is I. And you are?"

He did not answer for a moment, but merely stood in awe at the man before him. Finally, as if though hearing Keldorn at last, he pulled off his own helmet, letting the strands of his own sandy brown hair dangle free from their former imprisonment within his own helm. "I... former squire Anomen Delryn, at your service, milord."

"Squire Anomen?" Keldorn sounded no less surprised to see the young man there before him, but he quickly extended one hand to the cleric, exhaling loudly. "This is most interesting indeed. Still, an opportunity like this should not go to waste. Now that we're no longer at each other's throat, perhaps we should sit and have a talk. There is much that we need explained to us... and by your continued references to me in the past tense during our battle, I expect you will require much the same."

X X X X X X X

"Four years. Four years ago, if you mean to ask when the first signs of trouble started. Four years since we began to see the plans set into motion... plans we could do nothing to halt." Anomen shook his head with the memory, seated next to Keldorn as the two of them sat on the steps leading into the ruined Order Hall. Aerie and Imoen sat on either side of the two, listening intently. Keldorn had informed Anomen of their situation, or at least what he could without making them all sound insane. Still, despite the incredulousness of the claims Keldorn had seen fit to inform Anomen of, he could not deny Keldorn's existence there before him when according to Anomen, he should have been dead. Apparently the paladin's word still held nothing but truth for the young warrior; he accepted it and then proceeded to aid the party, telling them everything that had led to this point, to the destruction they saw around them.

"It started with the iron crisis, plaguing the Sword Coast and beyond with the tainted ore from Nashkel and Cloakwood. We didn't know then, but the bandit attacks, the ore, all of it was interwoven. Perhaps had we realized it then, we might've averted the catastrophe later on, but 'tis nothing more than a fantasy now. Hostilities grew between Amn and Baldur's Gate, tensions rose and tempers flared, each side convince the other was plotting to destroy them."

"I remember. In our world the war between the two nations was narrowly averted." Keldorn mused, shaking his head as he glanced back at Anomen, the young man taking a swig from a waterskin before resuming his tale. "I presume such was not the case here?"

"Yes... almost three years ago word came to us that the Gate had launched its armies for Amn. Perhaps it might've still been resolved with minimal loss of life, if not for... him." Anomen said the last word with disgust, shaking his head. "Bah! I spit on his name... he is unworthy to be spoken of."

"Who?" Imoen asked, her brow furrowing with concern as she listened.

"Who else?" Anomen sighed. "The new Lord of Murder. The man who claimed the Throne of Bhaal for his own. Bhaal reborn."

"What... what was his name on earth?" Aerie said, her eyes betraying the fear she felt as her heart pounded in her chest, hoping against hope it was not the man they all feared it would be. "Was it... was it Greywulf?"

"I... Greywulf? Forgive me, my lady, but the name is unfamiliar to me. I cannot say I know of whom you speak." he frowned, quite unclear as to why relief poured over the faces of every one of the adventurers before him. "Is this another of the details you felt I would not understand, Keldorn?"

"Something like that, Anomen." Keldorn exhaled. "Suffice to say that this Greywulf is why we are here... and who we need to find to get home. If he were the new Lord of Murder... well, it would make things infinitely more complicated."

"I am glad then, that my news is not as discomfiting as I had feared." Anomen said, nodding to Imoen and Aerie. "Nevertheless, I still curse the name of Sarevok... god or not, I shall never forgive him for the destruction he wrought within this city."

"Sarevok?!" Imoen's voice was a shocked cry, completely taken by surprise. Anomen looked up at her, noting the alarm in her face with a bit of concern. "Yes, ah... forgive me milady, I did not mean to cause you any alarm-"

"No... no it's fine." Imoen managed a weak smile, letting her eyes drop to the dirty and stone covered stairs before her, focusing on a particularly large piece of statue that had broken off and now rested there before them. "Go ahead... please."

"I... as you wish, my lady." Anomen nodded. "Using the power of the Iron Throne he made himself into a Duke of Baldur's Gate. He was the one who led the armies of the Gate through Amn, slaughtering all of our attempts to stop him. He felt that the bloodbath would resurrect the power of his father and he was right. With each battle he grew in power and strength... by the time he arrived at the gates of Athkatla, there were little more than city guards to defend us from his onslaught."

"They broke through the outer walls on the fifth day of the siege, their forces sweeping through the city, putting it to the torch and killing all who got in their way." Anomen recited bitterly. "The screams of the dying, the cries for help... it is seared into my hearing forever, Keldorn. They left none alive; everyone was equal prey to them. Shadow Thieves, merchants, city guards..."

"And paladins. The Order, right?" Imoen said softly, understanding as Anomen met her glance and nodded quietly.

"Yes. The Order had tried to stay neutral in the conflict from the beginning, but by the time we had seen the extent of Sarevok's evil it was too late. The Order spread all of its knights and paladins within the ranks of the city guard, defending each and every stronghold left in the city as they swept through... it was doomed from the beginning." Anomen clenched one fist as he relived the memory in his mind's eye. "So many died... each one fighting to keep the enemy out, to push them back away from the Order Hall..."

Anomen abruptly looked up, turning his gaze to Keldorn. "You... you were there. At the end. The final battle, the final stand of the Radiant Heart. I can still see it... as clear as day. Their armies finally reached these very steps... only to find the three greatest members of the order standing guard. Sir Ryan Trawl, Prelate Wessaren and Sir Keldorn Firecam. All three of you, each one with blades drawn and gleaming in the noonday sun like shards of pure light itself... I shall never forget it as long as I live. They tried to rush you, but the three of you would not be taken- man after man fell beneath your swords, your drive unmatched, your skill flawless."

The young men paused, then shook his head, remembering the end. "But it was not enough. Not against Sarevok. He challenged you himself... the Prelate was the first to fall. Sir Ryan Trawl died by his hand soon after, but you... you might've done the impossible. You might've killed him yourself, alone and exhausted, but you had the chance. Your sword was past his, ready to strike... but he was too powerful by then. A single word of power and the essence of Bhaal rose up and claimed you. A flash of dark magic and it was all over."

Keldorn nodded as Anomen grew silent, Imoen popped up with a question, breaking the former squire from his daze of memory. "What about you? How did you survive?"

Anomen laughed bitterly, clenching his fist tightly around the handle of his mace. "I was fighting with city guards at the time, but I saw the battle in the distance. As soon as I saw the last of you fall, they put the Order House to the torch; I charged Sarevok like a fool, shouting challenges and damnations as I hurtled toward him... I was on the ground before I knew what had happened."

"And he spared you?" Aerie asked with surprise.

"Yes... he spared me, preferring to let me live in disgrace and see the results of my failure than give me the grace of an honorable death." he flexed one hand, testing its strength as he spoke. "Not to say he did not take his energies out on me while I was under his heel... I did not fully recover from my injuries until a number of weeks after the battle had ended. His taunts still ring in my ears now, calling me a failed whelp whose only purpose would be to witness the death of the Order I was too unworthy to join-"

Anomen stopped for a moment, biting his tongue as though having spoken too much, but Keldorn had not missed a thing. "Anomen, you said previously that you were a former squire of the Order... what happened? Were you not knighted?"

"I... no, Keldorn. No, I failed the tests some days before the war began in earnest." he said quietly, shame entering his voice. "My anger, the rage I could not suppress, that choked my heart and my deeds... I could never overcome it completely. Not then, at least."

"If you failed the tests, then why do you guard this place so fiercely? Why do you preserve the memory of the Radiant Heart with such drive?" Keldorn frowned, his eyes holding no sign of accusation despite Anomen's admission.

"I... I was enraged at the time. Furious that the Order to which I had devoted so much of my life had cast me out... but when I saw the Hall burning, the greatest members of its ranks falling... all that anger, all that rage was channeled towards the murderers who had killed my greatest heroes..." Anomen looked up, blinking twice as though awakening from a dream. "I am no longer part of the Order, that much is true, but I spoke the truth when I said I shall preserve its ideals and ideas until the day I die. I hope... hope to rebuild someday. To restore the Order to its rightful place and stature, even if I am not a part of it."

"And what of Sarevok? After he had sacked Athkatla, where did he go then?" Imoen prodded, unable to quell the curiosity of this almost-timeline.

"He turned on his own men. Led his armies back to the Gate itself and destroyed the city. Baldur's Gate is still rebuilding, just as we are." Anomen shook his head, bowed in anger and shame. "The war between the nations had ended... but the Bhaalspawn wars had just begun."

"Bhaalspawn wars?" Aerie asked hesitantly. "I thought you said Sarevok ascended to the throne of Bhaal..."

"He did, but not until the rest of his siblings were dead." Anomen growled, his beard and moustache wrinkling as he frowned in anger. "Others had been biding their time too, amassing armies of their own... six in particular. Six other Bhaalspawn challenged Sarevok for the Throne... each one falling to his might in the end. None of them really stood a chance, they were too little, too late... but the last came close. Nobody saw her coming."

"Who was she?" Imoen asked, her voice shrinking, already knowing the inevitable answer and hating the words that would surely come-

"Imoen. Her name was Imoen." Anomen said grimly. "I never saw her myself, but the tales spoke of her beauty, her power... and her evil. Reports told of her always smiling, never dark or gritty like the others... but she was no less wicked. Every death, every kill she made was always with a smile, laughing and joking and grinning as she slid a knife into her victims' chest. Perhaps worse than those whose evil was readily visible; hers was hidden under a mask of joy and mirth."

Imoen stood up, taking an involuntary step, away from Anomen. The former squire noticed, frowning as he rose as well, extending one hand. "I... I am sorry, my lady, I hope my words did not disturb you. Forgive me if they have. I... I fear I do not even know your names, with the exception of Sir Keldorn- if you desire I shall stop my discourse. Dark subjects, I know."

"I... I just need to take a quick walk. Clear my head." Imoen stuttered, forcing a weak smile. "Please, continue."

Aerie stood and walked with her, half supporting her as the two slipped down the streets of the once majestic Temple District, leaving the two warriors behind. They passed several city blocks, wreckage and half-rebuilt structures that were just good enough to provide shelter to those who yet remained in the city. People stared from their windows, never saying a word to the pair as they continued, Aerie rubbing Imoen's back with her hand, doing her best to comfort the thief-mage amidst the turmoil brewing within her own mind. They crossed the bridge in the center of the district, Imoen finally stopping, unable to walk any further as she sank to her knees, tears sliding down her face. "Imoen? Don't worry, I'm here for you... it's going to be okay. You're going to be okay-"

"No! I'm not okay! This is wrong, all of this is all wrong, I..." Imoen shook her head angrily, glaring up at Aerie's sympathetic visage. "What happened?! Why would I... how did all of this happen?"

"Perhaps I can help you two ladies. These streets are not to be taken lightly... and from the state of your friend, I doubt you are in well enough condition to survive for too long." a rough voice caught them off guard, both looking up in fear as two shadowed figures came across the bridge towards them, one of the two towering over the girls in height and stature, the other tall but not nearly so broad.

"We can take care of ourselves... perhaps you'd best tell us who you are before we start taking any sort of orders. Who... who are you?" Aerie asked with as much authority and power in her voice that she could muster, unconsciously aware that the two had left their weapons back with Keldorn and Anomen. Still, if it was a fight they were facing, they were no pushovers in the arcane realm...

"Do not fear, I truly mean you no harm... unless you are an enemy of those who would seek to rebuild the city." The smaller man stepped into the light. His gray beard was over-grown and his leather armor was tattered, but serviceable. One eye patch covered his right eye, but his left was a sharp as an eagle's. "Berinvar is what I am called. This man here is my... bodyguard, of sorts. You'll forgive him, but he doesn't speak."

Imoen and Aerie gasped, gazing upon the unmistakable visage of Minsc, slipping into the light. He gazed at them with narrowed eyes, a barely contained anger burning in his features. He grunted once, then settled, glancing at Berinvar. "Minsc? Minsc, it's you! I-"

Imoen launched herself towards him, but the mammoth ranger merely recoiled, pushing her away with a growl. Berinvar raised an eyebrow, taking the two girls in once more, this time with a bit more suspicion. "Do you... know, this ranger, by any chance?"

"He was... no. No, I guess not." Imoen murmured, looking at the man. "Why... why doesn't he speak?"

"Not sure exactly." Berinvar frowned. "From what little I do know of him, he was from up north; Rashemen, I think. Failed his mission, assigned to protect a witch of sorts. Went mad with grief. All he lives for is battle and vengeance now... we found him in a gnoll stronghold near the Gate; every one of the things had been slaughtered. He would have killed us if our mages hadn't been able to subdue him. We didn't speak much, but from what we did say he knows that we'll provide him with the opportunity for vengeance and battle, but for the right side at least. Still, you seemed like you knew him. Are you sure he means nothing to you?"

"No... I don't know this man... not this man at all." Aerie said sadly, turning away from Minsc. "But I do know you. Berinvar, you said? You're a Harper, right?"

"Yes, that I am." Berinvar chuckled. "Watch these two women, Minsc; they're sharper than they look. How do you know me, pray tell? Rumors, perhaps? I am, after all, one of the few Harpers left in this city."

"We... we were friends with some Harpers who knew you. Once." Aerie chose her words carefully, gauging his reaction. "Jaheira... do you remember her?"

"Oh yes, Jaheira." Berinvar nodded. "Shame, how she went. Heroic, but still a shame. Our greatest members, falling like the rest of this worlds' heroes in the Bhaalspawn wars."

"How did... how did she die?"

"Like her husband." Berinvar answered, leaning against a ruined railing upon the bridge's eastern side. "Fighting against those Bhaalspawn who battled for control of the Throne of Bhaal. She and Khalid, whom I assume you knew as well if the names you somehow already know are any indication, were sent by Gorion along with a group of other Harpers to evacuate a town before it was closed in upon by Sarevok's armies. He didn't know that the Laughing Death's armies were already there."

"The Laughing Death?" Aerie recoiled at the ugly pairing of words, so unnatural yet forced together in this terrible alternate world.

"It's what they called her. The last of the Bhaalspawn to challenge Sarevok. Imoen. Gorion's ward." Berinvar shook his head in disgust. "The old man went to challenge her himself. Managed to sneak into her very tent, so I heard. Tried to talk with her, reason with her-"

"But she killed him anyway. Slaughtered him without pity... just a great big laugh and a grin on her face." Imoen whispered, cutting him off as the tears started again. "All wrong... this world- I'm sorry. So sorry..."

Berinvar frowned, taking a step forward, but Aerie merely came to her side again and embraced her, looking up at Berinvar and Minsc with an apologetic expression. "Please excuse her... she's been through a lot today. She'll be fine... just fine."

"Well then... at least let us take you with us back to safety. We were meeting another ally at the old base of the Radiant Heart here in the city; you will be safe there. He protects the place quite well; hopes to rebuild the Order, I think."

"We have a friend there too; we'll go with you." Aerie smiled, holding Imoen tight as they continued on their way, returning to Keldorn and Anomen, Imoen's eyes never leaving the ground as Aerie whispered words of comfort in the girl's ear.

X X X X X X X

For a city that had been decimated by war, one that looked ready to collapse on itself from the outside... the inner workings were not all that different from its glory days. The Slums were the worst, the Temples in better condition... but the Government District and the Promenade- both had been given the most attention; people still lived and worked their hardest to stay alive within. Some children could even be seen on the streets, playing amidst the rubble and dirt, an odd sight for such dark times.

Still, it was enough to give Imoen's dark spirits a bit of lift as they entered what had once been Waukeen's Promenade, the three having left the Order Hall a little less than an hour prior. She watched them scamper across the way, shouting cries of laughter and delight as they chased one another... Imoen smiled weakly while Keldorn scanned the area with the directions given to them.

"Where did Anomen say this man was? A shop here in the Promenade?"

"Yes... he said there was a spellcaster of minor power who had made residence here in Athkatla before the wars; nothing too powerful, but he owns a shop and provides the survivor's mages with all the scrolls they need for the defense of this place. Does what he can to help out; he might be able to give us some kind of location of Greywulf."

"I hope so." Aerie shuddered. "I've had just about enough of this world... it's so terrible. To think that we might be stuck here forever if we can't find him..."

"We'll find him." Keldorn said assuringly. "With any luck this mage will have the components to make a location spell of sorts."

They walked in silence for a time yet, still traveling through the great lengths of the Promenade's center. Imoen turned her gaze upward, looking at the sun, still high in the noonday- she turned her head back down, a look of disgust crossing her face. "What kind of world is this, Aerie? What kind of wish did he make to cause this?!"

"I think... I think I might have the answer to that." Keldorn said grimly, gesturing for them to follow as a small makeshift building, off to one end of the Promenade came into view, a sign stating _Arcane Spells and Scrolls_ adorning the front of it. "From everything I've gathered, from this world's history... things didn't go as planned. Gorion only had one ward... you. Imoen. Minsc never met up with a group of adventurers to save Dynaheir. Gorion never met his end at Sarevok's hands on the road to Candlekeep, nor did Jaheira and Khalid meet you two at the Friendly Arm Inn. Greywulf was never a part of your life, or Gorion's. Because of it, no adventuring group ever teamed up to find the cause of the iron crisis. Sarevok was never stopped. And just like that... he took the Throne as he had intended."

"I surmise that Greywulf was brought into Gorion's life because he was a Bhaalspawn." Keldorn continued, looking the place up and down one as they halted before it, as though assuring himself it was the right location. "And still, Sarevok should have hunted him down had he been a threat to his claim over the Throne."

Keldorn pushed the door open, a small bell ringing as he did, signaling their presence. "The fact Sarevok didn't... that you never had a balance, a counter to your life in Candlekeep, tipping you into darkness... that nobody of import or power has even heard of Greywulf, it makes me think that Greywulf's greatest wish- his only wish- would be to be rid of the taint. To have never been born a Bhaalspawn, just a regular... everyday... mortal..."

Keldorn froze as his words trailed off; all three of them stood stock still, looking at Imoen's brother, Aerie's savior, and Keldorn's ally. He stood before them in a simple gray robe, his brownish hair combed back with a welcoming, unworried and unscarred face staring back at them. "Hello there! Welcome to my little shop here... so what can I do for you?"


	56. Part 2: The Cost of Freedom

The blur of motion across the room was astonishing; it took the man standing there more than a few seconds to realize that the body hurtling towards him was no longer in motion, but locked in a one-sided embrace with him. Imoen's arms were wrapped around him, her head buried in his chest with eyes clamped shut, a few tears squeezing from them despite her efforts. His hand came up in surprise, his face showing the confusion he was feeling; he dropped his hand, patting her on the back tentatively. "Um... I- well. Excuse me, miss... are you all right? It's ah... um... wow."

"C'mon... don't tell me you don't recognize me." Imoen asked desperately, looking up into his eyes, hope pouring from her in waves. "You've got to know me!"

"I... I'm sorry. You're face isn't really... well, familiar." he said, half-sheepishly as he tried to gently pry her arms off of himself. "Uh, as I said, this is a Spell and Component shop... I love a friendly customer as much as the next storekeep, but I like to get to know folks before we sit down and have tea."

Keldorn cleared his throat, stepping up and pulling Imoen back, his eyes quickly meeting hers and signaling for her to remain quiet. "You'll have to pardon her, sir... she's lost a close friend as of late... you bear an uncanny resemblance to said friend. My name is Keldorn. She is... ah, you can call her Im. And this is-"

"Aerie!" his eyes lit up as Greywulf stepped over to the suddenly confused Avariel, taking her by the arm and holding her tightly. Her eyes darted over to Keldorn's, hope suddenly springing afresh that he might have recognized her, perhaps regained some glimmer of memory with the sight.

"You...you recognize me?" she said carefully; he laughed, then leaned over and kissed her, Aerie's eyes widening as their lips met. He shook his head wryly as they parted, her eyes blinking twice in surprise. "Of course I recognize you; just because you're wearing a little different outfit since the last time I saw you doesn't mean I can't recognize my own wife. Speaking of which, when did you pick up these clothes? You look good."

"Wife?!" Imoen nearly doubled over with the word, but Keldorn once again leaned over, glaring with a look that brooked no argument. _Remain quiet. Now._

"I'm glad to see you're home safe; did you make the pickup? Those scrolls will help the local mages a lot; their supplies are still fairly limited, as I'm sure you understand." Greywulf said, explaining to the other two before looking back down at Aerie, her eyes darting back and forth, pleading for some kind of answer.

"I... I didn't. I was... well, I never made it there. They were... taken." she managed, Greywulf's eyes narrowing as he listened. For a moment, she feared he would detect her lie- she breathed a sigh of relief as he exhaled in relief, leaning over to embrace her again.

"Taken? Bandits, hmm? I told you these roads were dangerous... at least you're safe. That's all that matters... but it's settled. From now on I go on the pickup runs. You stay here and mind the shop, all right?" he said with a weak smile, obviously relieved at her well-being and safety as he took her chin with one hand, gazing into her deep blue eyes.

"Of... of course." Aerie replied, an idea running through her head. She gestured over to the other two, letting a smile creep across her mouth. "These two found me on the road; helped me drive off my attackers. That's how we met."

Greywulf raised one eyebrow, nodding in appreciation as he stepped over to them, bowing low before extending a hand to both Keldorn and Imoen in turn. "If that's the case, then you two have my eternal gratitude. Aside from that, any friend of my wife's is a friend of mine. Please, come in and make yourselves at home. I should go pack up a few things in the back storeroom, but I'm sure Aerie will be able to entertain you for a few minutes. If you'll bring them to the living quarters..."

"Of course, dear." Aerie managed, peering down the hallway as she spotted something that vaguely resembled a living room.

"Don't worry about us, Greywulf." Keldorn tossed out, nodding as he and the other two began to follow Aerie's tentative direction through the house and shop. "Take your time."

The man frowned, letting a wry smile cross his face. "Greywulf? Don't tell me Aerie's come up with a new nickname for me... hmm. Not bad, though. I kind of like it, really."

"Oh... you know me." Aerie blurted out, forcing a smile across her face as she met Greywulf's gaze down the hall. "I just thought it... fit, that's all."

"As long as you're not referring to my hair color, its fine by me." he laughed, before turning back to Imoen and Keldorn. "I did forget introductions, I suppose. The name's Galmarath; I'll be with you in just a few minutes."

He disappeared as the three slipped into the living quarters, Aerie and Imoen both veritably collapsing into chairs while Keldorn sat carefully, his mind still racing over the situation. He looked over at Aerie, the Avariel dropping one hand into her face as she tried to regain composure. "His... his wife? I don't understand... I thought he never met any of us in this world! Keldorn, what's going on?"

"I don't know..." he murmured. "Perhaps we can pry the information out of him when he returns. We shall have to be discreet though... so Imoen, no more of these outbursts! You will do nothing but convince him of our insanity, so act as you should. For all intents and purposes, we know little or nothing about this man, only that he is married to the Aerie of this world... who apparently is picking up some package of scrolls, if what he said is true."

Imoen stuck her tongue out at Keldorn, a scowl crossing her face as she sighed, composed once again. "Excuse me for getting my hopes up; I just... well, I just thought he'd recognize me. If anyone, I thought he'd know me..."

"We don't even know him. Not like this." Keldorn shook his head. "We'll have to try and jog his memory little by little. Whatever life he has built for himself here seems to be a good one. He will be loathe to believe the truth, especially a truth as dark as his own."

Aerie shifted her weight, her face betraying the fear she felt. "But he thinks I'm his wife! I should know things I won't... I don't know if I can keep covering like this. It's all just so wrong... and what about his name? Galmarath?"

Imoen suddenly laughed, leaning back in her chair as she rubbed her eyes, the laughs dying down to a chuckle. "Galmarath. I needed a good laugh. Right... I'd almost forgotten that's his real name."

"His real name's not Greywulf?" Aerie asked in surprise.

"Well of course not." Imoen said, looking slightly miffed she had even asked. "Didja think he was born with a cool name like 'Greywulf'? I'll tell ya about it some time, when we're not in a world where I'm the greatest killer aside from Sarevok to have walked Faerun."

"Quiet... he's coming." Keldorn whispered, noting the approaching footsteps as Galmarath returned, holding a few cups and a steaming teapot on a tray. He quietly poured a cup for each of them, handing them out before seating himself beside Aerie, one arm across her shoulders, as he drew close to her. "Ah... nice to have a bit of company for a change. Business is rather slow, what with the fact most people who can even read magic don't have the money to afford scrolls. Not even sure why we keep the business running, such as it is. It's more of a gesture of faith, than anything else. Faith that everything will turn out all right."

Keldorn took a sip of his tea, nodding in approval. "I agree. Hope is something in rare supply these days... no matter where you hail from. Forgive my curiosity, but Aerie mentioned a little of how you originally met while we were on the road back here; it sounded like quite the tale. I don't suppose you'd be willing to inform us of the particulars?"

Galmarath glanced at Aerie, who blushed with a shrug. He chuckled, his gaze resting on the half-full cup of tea in his hands. "Heh... Aerie's not much for telling stories. I'm surprised she said anything about it, to tell the truth. But it's not really anything special. Still, if you really are interested, I suppose there's no harm in swapping a few tales. I suppose you could call our meeting chance, though I prefer fate."

"Fate? You didn't tell us your husband was such a romantic." Imoen said, winking at Aerie, ignoring the small blast of both embarrassment and irritation that crossed Aerie's features before turning back to Galmarath's features. "Sorry... continue."

"It all started with the circus. Just one random day, out to enjoy a fine afternoon at the big top." he shook his head with a hint of disbelief. "How many years now, Aerie? Four? Five?"

"Er... five, I think." she replied, quickly returning to her tea.

"Right. I wasn't expecting to find anything special... but that changed quickly enough." he grinned at her. "No, there was the cutest little elf I saw as I was leaving for the day, trying to balance a stack of papers in one hand and an armload of circus props in the other; she never saw the bucket of washing water in front of her. Needless to say, I couldn't let the inevitable occur, so I rushed in gallantly, ready to save the day... kind of."

"Kind of?" Imoen asked, arching one eyebrow.

"Well, where there's washing water... there's a mop." Galmarath shrugged. "In this case, lying across the path of the tent entrance, just out of sight. I tripped over it, bowling into the wash water and sending Aerie tumbling at the same time. We both ended up completely soaked, covered in hay, and in my case unconscious."

"It must have been quite the fall." Keldorn chuckled, the gentle ease and aura of peace that surrounded such simple, peaceful stories becoming quite comfortable.

"Well, I did say she was carrying an armload of circus props, right? That includes weights for the strong men. How was I supposed to know she'd summoned divine strength to carry all of it?" Galmarath shrugged. "The next thing I knew I woke up in a tent, looking up at the most angelic face I'd ever seen. Then I saw Aerie too."

"Galmarath!" Aerie flushed red, slapping his arm despite herself as he laughed, setting his tea cup down as he tried to avoid her meager blows.

"You know I'm kidding..." he planted a small peck on her cheek as she calmed, slowly becoming more at ease in the situation. Keldorn gave her an almost imperceptible nod. _Good. Stay in the part. The more convincing, the better._

"Ah, where was I? Oh yes. Aerie nursed me back to health, such as it was. Pretty soon I found myself spending a lot more time at the circus... but it wasn't until the Bhaalspawn wars that we really fell in love. The one good thing that came from it, I suppose. The armies were rushing through the city; they had finally reached the Promenade and the circus. Most of the circus had already been evacuated, but I went back just to be sure she was safe. Good thing too; a few of the circus folk had elected to stay behind, preferring to fight with the guard than flee to safety. What were their names again?"

"Umm..." Aerie thought quickly, her memory flashing through everyone she had known in the circus- "Castin, the archer. Tiny, the strongman... I think he was there too, right?"

"If you say so." Galmarath shrugged. "I honestly don't remember too much; just that I came around the corner to find Aerie behind a small group of the circus folk and city guards, casting spells and healing who she could... just before an arrow nailed her shoulder. I swooped in and grabbed her, just as the rest began to retreat. They escaped with a small remnant of the circus, hiding and fighting when they could... but I brought Aerie back to my house. It was my turn to play the healer, even if I'm not the greatest at it."

"You did the best you could." Aerie said, smiling wistfully at him as she clasped hands with him. Imoen tried unsuccessfully to hide a smile, watching Aerie play her part... perhaps a bit too enthusiastically.

"Well, regardless of my less than adequate healing skills, she recovered. I kept her and her father safe here with our family; Quayle and my parents both moved south after the wars ended, away from all the conflict, but we stayed here. Two years since we wed." Galmarath said as he leaned over, pouring himself another small cup of tea, resting the steaming cup on his leg as he sat. "What about you two? How'd you end up on the road to Athkatla? I don't suppose the two of you are-?"

Imoen's eyes bulged as she nearly choked on the tea she was sipping, trying to cover her coughs. "Us? Oh no..."

Keldorn arched one eyebrow at her reaction, and then turned back to Galmarath, the corner of his mouth curling upward just slightly as he contemplated the words he was about to say and how much Imoen would absolutely hate him for it- "Not at all. I'm her father. She's a prankster, my Im."

To his credit, Keldorn didn't move a muscle as Imoen glared daggers of hate into him, finally reaffixing her look of sugary cheer as she turned back to the slightly confused Galmarath; the only sign anything was different was the tightness to her jaw as she ground her teeth together. "Yeah. I'm his daughter. Thanks for mentioning it, _Dad_."

"Not at all. You mentioned that your parents all moved away from these parts; do you still keep in touch with them?" Keldorn prodded.

"Oh yes." Galmarath nodded. "Aerie's Uncle Quayle stuck with Father and Mother... they all moved down to Beregost. It's a nice place, if a little small compared to Athkatla. Still, they all seem happy, or at least as happy as in-laws can be moved in with one another."

"Beregost, huh?" Imoen nodded, thinking a little bit. "I don't suppose you've ever been down that far?"

"Not for some time." he replied. "I was raised near Tethyr, but we moved quickly. Came up here to Athkatla when I was seven, lived here ever since. Not that I haven't been around here and there; I even made it to Candlekeep once. Had to buy my way in with the rarest book I'd ever seen, but a chance to go through the volumes they had there... it was an experience I won't soon forget."

"Hmm. I used to have friends in Candlekeep; one of them was a mage by the name of Gorion." Imoen said cautiously. "I don't suppose you met him while you were there, did you?"

"Gorion... the name is... well, I think it's kind of-" Galmarath frowned, one of his hands shaking slightly, the tea sloshing and landing on his hand, the scalding liquid taking him by surprise. Aerie reached out to take the cup from him, quickly using a towel to dry his hand, a red mark leaving evidence of where he had been burned. "Sorry... I just suddenly got a headache of sorts... I think it's passed now. Excuse me, but I'm going to get some cold water for this burn."

Galmarath stood, nodding to his guests, then exited the room, leaving the three alone once more. Aerie watched as he left, finally turning the corner at the end of the hallway leading to their sitting room, then whirling to face her comrades. "Did you see that? When you brought up Gorion, he almost remembered... that's what it might've been, anyway."

"I think so." Keldorn frowned. "He looked like he was in pain for a moment... and I can't say I'm surprised."

"What do you mean?" Imoen frowned, setting down her teacup with a disgusted look. "I hate tea..."

"What I mean is that he's lived an entire life, and has an entire life's memories to deal with. He's also got his real memories... somewhere. Trying to overlay them, bring one to dominance over the other... it surely can't be pleasant." he mused. "Still, perhaps we might have found a way to bring him back. If we can just continue to push at his mind, feed him bits and pieces of his real life, perhaps-"

The sound of the door opening up front caught them off guard, the little bell that signaled an arrival tinkling gently enough to echo through the house. Keldorn glanced at Aerie, gesturing for her to answer. She nodded, trying to compose herself as she prepared to greet whatever customer or acquaintance she was supposed to know. _Just improvise... improvise and it'll go like clockwork-_

Aerie's thoughts ended as she froze in the doorway of the back of the shop, gazing at... herself. An exact replica of Aerie stood at the open door, a large satchel full of scrolls under one arm as the elf stared at her copy...

"I thought I locked the door when you arrived, I suppose one more customer for the day won't... hurt-" Galmarath came in behind the three adventurers in the back, also freezing as he spotted Aerie in the doorway, looking back and forth between both versions in utter confusion and verging on panic.

Keldorn suppressed an urge to curse, then turned to Galmarath, tightening his resolve. "Hmm... perhaps we need to have a talk of sorts. Some more tea might be a good idea."

X X X X X X X

Imoen inhaled sharply, holding her breath as Keldorn finished their tale. Galmarath sat opposite of the three adventurers, his version of Aerie seated beside him with a mixture of fear, bewilderment and confusion covering her face; Galmarath's expression, however, was pointedly more hostile. His fingers were clasped in front of him as he glared at Keldorn, not speaking despite the end of the paladin's words. Aerie finally spoke, "I know it all sounds crazy-"

"Crazy? That's putting it lightly." Galmarath said harshly, his voice grating and dark. "You're telling me that everything I know is a lie. That this house, this world... my life- all of it's a lie. Nothing more than a fantasy imagined by some mystical gem? You're either sadistic or insane."

"Greywulf, just listen-"

"Stop calling me that!" he growled, standing as he pulled away from his own wife's hand, a burning fire in his eyes as he stared down Keldorn, the paladin not losing his cool despite the situation. "I'm not your damn Bhaalspawn, and I don't want to be! I have a life here, a real life that consists of a wife, parents who love me, and a child! Unless you're telling me that my six-month old daughter in the other room there is a lie too-"

"That's exactly what we're saying." Keldorn cut him off, standing to meet Galmarath's posture. "No matter what you want to believe, what you want... you know the truth. You are Greywulf, Bhaalspawn and ward of Gorion. Your father was Bhaal, Lord of Murder-"

Galmarath's brow twitched, a flicker of pain crossing his face as he listened, "Stop it..."

"You were raised by Gorion, who was killed by your brother Sarevok!" Keldorn said, his voice becoming more urgent as he increased the intensity of his words. "You and Imoen are siblings, brother and sister!"

Galmarath bent over, clutching his head as he gritted his teeth. "I said stop-"

"Minsc! Jaheira! Dynaheir! Khalid! Imoen! All of them your allies, your family against Sarevok! Kidnapped by Irenicus, two of them killed, another taken by the Cowled Wizards-"

Galmarath dropped to his knees, crying out in pain as Keldorn surged forward, seeing their opportunity finally arriving...

The sound of incantations took him and the other two by surprise; a flurry of magic missiles slammed into Keldorn, throwing him back and to the ground; his breastplate smoked from the impact as he tried to shake off the unexpected attack, his vision just clear enough to see this world's version of Aerie with her hands outstretched and crackling with magic, the elf hurriedly kneeling beside Galmarath. "Stop it! You're hurting him, can't you see that?!"

"We don't have a choice, he has to see the truth-" Aerie tried to explain, but she quieted as Galmarath's head flew up, a smoldering fury in his eyes. "Get out. Now."

"Greywulf... listen to us." Keldorn managed, struggling to his feet. "We're not your enemies here. We just want to talk."

"Talk?" Galmarath stood with Aerie's aid, glaring heavily. "You come into my house. Somehow... somehow impersonate my wife. Insult my family, my life, and take advantage of my trust and hospitality. I want all of you out of my house now. You are not welcome here, now or in the future. We have nothing more to discuss."

A hush fell over the room, only broken by the sound of a child crying in the adjoining room; Keldorn opened his mouth as though to speak again... he closed it, slowly turning his back and filing out with the others behind him. Imoen spared one last look at his impassive visage, looking for any sign of regret, sadness... she found nothing.

The sound of the door slamming behind them was an ugly, ill-fitting noise in their ears as they exited, knowing what had been lost in their battle for not only Greywulf's soul, but their own as well. Aerie glanced at the house and then back to Keldorn, the paladin leaning against one of the support pillars for the overhang in the Promenade. He was still trying to catch his wind after the surprise attack; he caught Aerie's questioning gaze, her unspoken words obvious. _What now?_

"I... I don't know." Keldorn said, reluctantly and with a hint of defeat. "I... I really don't know what to do now. We were close, I could feel it... but it wasn't enough. He'll never agree to listen to us now. The hold this world has on him is too strong- and I can understand why."

Imoen smiled wryly, veritably trotting over to Keldorn with an oh-so-innocent smile on her face. He noticed, arching one eyebrow with more than a hint of suspicion. "You have a look in your eye that I'm not sure I like, Imoen. What are you thinking?"

"Just an idea." Imoen shrugged. "You're right... the family he's got here gives him something to hold onto... hey, if he's got a daughter, that makes me an aunt! Ooo... aunty Imoen. Heh-"

"Imoen, please. If you've any plan of value, I would love to hear it without so many anecdotes." Keldorn sighed, his chest obviously still hurting.

She tossed her hair to the side with a slightly miffed look, then continued. "Yes, well. Like I was saying, his family keeps him grounded in this world. Our obvious plan has to be separating him from his family and his world."

"You mean like kidnapping him?" Aerie frowned, moving to Keldorn as she laid one hand over his armor, murmuring a series of magics that seeped into his flesh and healed the small injury he had sustained. "I doubt that will make him any more inclined to listen to us."

"Not quite what I had in mind." Imoen shook her head. "Y'see, when the other Aerie stumbled in, she was carrying a bunch of scrolls and the like... and a list of delivery points and schedules for their shop. Like the scroll shipment they're picking up three days from now in what used to be Port Llast. He did say he was going to be handling the shipment pickups from now on, right?"

"True..." Keldorn scratched his chin, looking for any flaws in the plan. "I still think our task will be of the utmost difficulty, now that we've accosted him once. I would not be surprised if we are forced to physically detain him for the boy to listen."

"Who said anything about talking to him?" Imoen grinned, turning to the elf-cleric. "So Aerie... we've got about three days to prepare. How are you at illusionary magic?"

Aerie opened her mouth to respond... then closed it with a smile.

X X X X X X X

The sound of leaves crunching under his feet was kind of enjoyable; it was very natural and 'normal', a rarity in such times. He took a few extra steps in the leaf-covered grass before turning his walk back to the dirt and gravel covered path that composed the road to Port Llast. Galmarath wrapped his wool cloak around him tighter, glad for it on such a day. It was his second on the road, heading for the Port where a brand new shipment of spell components was awaiting him, as well as a few choice scrolls he would have been hard-pressed to make himself or find anywhere else.

The few mages left in Athkatla depended on him; he and Aerie ran the only outside supply for arcane magic they could use to resupply. It was not a role he relished, in all honesty. He wasn't suited to play the hero, nor was he used to it. He hadn't lived an extraordinary life, nor had he been given extraordinary parents. They'd raised him well enough, his father a scholar of sorts and his mother a simple housewife. He'd never had siblings, just a few close friends here and there while growing up. Most of his friends had been infected with wanderlust; as soon as they were able they took off from their homes and set out to explore the continent, searching for glory and riches. He, on the other hand, was more than content to learn a few spells, start a family, and in times like these, just survive.

His father had known a few spells in his younger days and had taught him those which he still remembered; he'd expanded on those by a select few. Nothing of any real power, but if worse came to worse he could throw a fireball to cover a hasty retreat. He'd only had to fight for his life once, and that was when a group of bandits had thought his rucksack of recent trades looked valuable enough to steal. He'd been frightened to death while fighting the group, barely able to move as the fear and adrenaline rushed through him- but the thought of those waiting for him at home drove him onward. Aerie. His daughter, not yet born at the time, but everything to him now.

Anytime he was forced to leave his daughter's side was little more than a necessary evil to him, now. Not that he wanted Aerie to have to leave, especially with how dangerous the roads were, but still... he really wished he could be at her side, watching those great big blue eyes meet his, listening to her little cries and noises- the sound of a branch snapping amidst the wood nearby got his attention, and for a brief moment he raised his hands, already trying to remember the words for the few arcane spells he knew... but seconds passed, minutes, and nothing was forthcoming. He exhaled deeply, wiping brown hair from his face as he turned back to the road. It was probably nothing. Ever since those 'visitors' had spoken with him two days ago... he shook his head angrily and kept moving.

Despite his best efforts, the memory of what they had told him, what they had tried so desperately to convince him of- it rolled through his head like thunder, each stagger of memory causing a slight pain in his head. He wouldn't believe it. Couldn't believe it. Just some twisted lies cooked up for Mask knew what purpose-

A flash of lightning crackled through the sky, followed by the partnering thunder that nearly deafened him with the noise. Sheets of rain were suddenly hailing down upon his body, Galmarath darting towards the tree line in haste and confusion as the back of his robes flapped and soared in the wind. He covered his eyes with both hands, shielding them from the rain while trying to decipher how the weather, so nice and calm a few seconds ago, had changed into the maelstrom he currently found himself in. Beneath the weather-related noise, there was something else... something faint, but still audible.

He pushed away the stinging branches and twigs that blocked him as he stumbled through the forest, drawing closer and closer to whatever was making those noises, the sounds growing louder and louder-

"Hand over your ward, and you may leave unharmed."

The sound of that deep, throaty voice rung through his head, followed by a splitting pain that nearly brought him to his knees. Somewhere, sometime, someplace... he had heard it before. Not just that voice, but those words. Where-

"I would be a fool to trust in your benevolence."

He managed to push forward a little further, watching as the tree line vanished into a clearing. Six figures stood on one side, two on the other. The side with the numerical advantage had ogres, gnolls, a few orcs... and one giant, armored figure at lead, hulking with fearsome blades jetting from the black metal, rain dribbling off it in steady streams. His eyes glowed bright yellow, the only things visible under the void that seemed to exist under his horned, skull shaped helmet. Those eyes though... they kept drawing him in, sucking him away to some deep recess of his mind, a place he didn't know about but desperately wanted to keep contained-

"I'm sorry you feel that way, old man. Take them!"

He wrenched his vision away from the armored figure as he saw flashes of light from the other side ignite, magic missiles, flame and acid arrows all igniting and striking each monster as they attempted to move forward, never getting more than a few steps before falling. He looked at their bodies, fading with the mist, then looked up again- and now there were but two. The old man and the monster in armor. He studied the wizard's face; his fearless eyes, his heavy posture, worn and tired under the soaked robes he wore... but there was something more. Power, but not just that... fear? No. Worry. Worry for the boy. Worry for him? Strange, why would he think of himself as the boy-?

His eyes widened as he watched the wizard raise his hands, strobes of lightning dancing from his fingertips and sizzling as they struck the chest of his opponent... only to dissipate harmlessly as black runes glowed blood red upon his armor. Underneath the darkness, underneath the helmet, somehow he knew that the man in black was smiling. He glanced down at the fading runes, then back at the old man, whose countenance was still as determined as ever. "I almost felt that... almost. Your magics are useless. The battle was over before it began, old man!"

The armored figure raised a greatsword high, stepping forward to cleave the old man in two, but for someone as aged and elderly as the wizard, he moved with amazing speed. Somehow he had moved out of the way and slipped behind the dark warrior before his sword hit the ground. His hands were no longer in attack position, stretched out to deliver magical energy, but he held one by his side, the other clutching a dagger that glowed just faintly in the night. The warrior turned to see it, then barked a laugh. "You are either courageous beyond measure, or a fool. Either way, you will die."

The sword came around in a back strike, designed to cut him in two, but once more, the wizard ducked underneath, this time lunging forward with the dagger- it struck his armor, barely scratching the metal. However, it was not meant to cut through steel. Its purpose was something entirely different. The glow left the dagger, somehow creeping onto the armor it had struck, hesitating for a moment before sweeping over every length of the metallic covering. Each rune glowed faintly for a second... then crumbled, falling to dust before the astonished warrior and the mage he fought.

"What have you done to me, wizard! Speak!"

"Did you come to this field expecting to find a cowardly old man and a frightened whelp? Easy prey for the Chaos Blade you carry?" the wizard demanded, his voice still commanding and strong over the rainfall. "I have spent every waking hour of the last weeks and months preparing for this day, for this battle! One of us will fall here, Sarevok, but I swear you will pay dearly if it is I."

With that, his hands flew up again, this time spitting dozens of magic missiles, simple spells and of little power alone... but the air was thick with them as they exploded against Sarevok's armor. His shouts could be heard across the clearing as the night sky lit up with magic and power. Galmarath swallowed as he realized what the old wizard had done; trading in the magical energies he would normally keep for powerful spells and instead funneling that energy into the simplest of conjurations, multiplied by a hundred. A thousand. There was no way the armored man could win... but deep inside, Galmarath knew. Something was wrong. Something was going to happen, a dread feeling in the pit of his stomach that he was powerless to stop- the warrior burst through the cloud of steam and smoke that he had been engulfed in, pieces of his armor peeled and shredded, the flesh underneath blackened and burnt- but he was going too fast. The wizard was too close to dodge again. One giant slash of his blade... and Galmarath heard himself scream as the old man's body slumped to the ground.

The world strobed white before his eyes, and Galmarath suddenly found himself no longer in a blood and rain drenched clearing, but in a simple wooded area, only a few hundred feet off the main road. He blinked once, feeling his pulse and heart racing as he tried to sort the events of the past few seconds in his head. It had been so real, what- of course. His lip curled down in a growl of defiance as he realized the trick. The three who had confronted him at his house. They were after him again. Still trying to trick him, trying to make him believe these images... he shouted a curse into the air, whirling as he looked for any trace of the interlopers. There was nothing, but he'd be damned if they tried something like this again. A thought crossed his mind... what if they went after his family? He turned and began to scramble back towards the main road, his thoughts fully on Aerie and his daughter and nothing else-

_"In quite the hurry, ain't ya?"_

He stopped, recognizing the voice. Of course he had been right. The pink-haired girl from the shop. Im, the older warrior had called her. The voice sounded slightly bemused, which only served to make him angrier. "Come out and face me! What do you want from me?!" he screamed, whirling as the voice tsked.

_"I would... but you don't look like you remember yet. I was hoping we could avoid all this. I'm sorry, Greywulf. I really am."_

He darted back towards the main road, hoping to get away from the next trap or whatever spell they planned to use on him next- too late. Everything changed, the world around him blurred... bringing new and somehow familiar surroundings. No longer in a clearing, or even outside- he looked around, trying to get his bearings as walls formed and stood tall, completing the images he saw yet disbelieved at the same time. Shelves and shelves of books surrounded on every side, mingled with desks that held papers and ink quills strewn about liberally. A few chairs sat here and there, nothing fancy but good enough for study... which if appearances were any indication, was exactly what the room was designed for.

A buzzing at the front of his mind took him by surprise; he crouched low, holding his head as she tried to fight it back, but once more there was little time for respite of any sort. A form swirled in the low light, only brought by the candles lit in the room. The young man he had seen with the wizard previously- older now, so much more experience- he sat in one of the chairs, his back to Galmarath. He heard the creak of a door opening, Galmarath hurriedly stepping aside as the wooden portal swung wide behind him. Five figures entered, their faces bringing another jolt of pain to his mind as each one passed through his mind. The last woman, imposing in her mage's robes and regal bearing, closed the door smoothly, the others approaching the seated man.

"Greywulf, we cannot afford to linger here. It is not safe. If this were the wild, I would call it a nest of vipers." the bronze-skinned woman, clad in chain mail and wielding a long spear remarked, stepping over to the still sitting man, a frown crossing her brow. "Greywulf? Did you not hear me?"

"Bar the door, Dynaheir." his voice was hard, rough... but familiar. Too familiar. Galmarath grit his teeth as white began blurring the edges of his vision. The slight ache in his head was growing, becoming a migraine as it threatened to overwhelm him... but he couldn't look away. Not yet.

"Greywulf, is s-something wrong?" the warrior half-elf's stuttering voice pierced the tension in the room... but it didn't dissipate. Any hopes of resolving whatever matter had arisen were squelched as Greywulf's voice rang out, all hard edges and strained.

"How long?"

"What?" the young girl Galmarath had seen earlier, the one in his home- who had been speaking to him a few seconds ago out of thin air?- she stepped over to this Greywulf, placing one hand on his shoulder, worry lines creasing her otherwise smooth features. "Greywulf? What are you talking about-"

"I asked them how long!" Greywulf flew from the chair as he faced a surprised Khalid and Jaheira, the two half-elves taking an involuntary step back at the ire radiating from the young sorcerer. His eyes were red, the tears having long since dried but still waiting in the wings. A piece of parchment was in his hand, crumpled and crushed. "How long have you known?!"

"Greywulf, p-please calm down. We d-don't know what-"

"No! Don't you dare lie to me! Not again, and definitely not about this!!" he screamed, Dynaheir glancing at the door she had just barred nervously. "Greywulf, thou must calm. Whatever has troubled you, bringing the whole Iron Throne down upon us will not help."

"You want to know what's wrong, ask them." he seethed, throwing the ball of paper at Jaheira's feet. Galmarath watched as it bounced once against her boot, the druid watching before turning her gaze back to the shaking young man, her own expression filled with... what? Sadness? Regret? He watched as she sought for words... but he knew what she would say. Somehow he knew- "We've always known. Ever since we met you in the Friendly Arm Inn."

"I knew it." he snarled. "You've lied to me since the beginning. I trusted both of you, and you've done nothing but play me for a fool this whole time! This whole damn time, I thought you were my friends. That you actually cared about me! You self-righteous bastards. You weren't here to protect me. You were here to watch me. To kill me in case I turned out like that madman Sarevok."

"Greywulf, I don't understand." Imoen pleaded, finally getting him to look at her. "What happened? What's going on?"

"A letter from Gorion." he spat, gesturing to the paper on the ground. "It told me everything. What I am."

Galmarath didn't need to hear the rest; he mouthed the words as he heard them spoken from this vision's warped version of him. "A Bhaalspawn."

The confrontation before him faded, and he was left with nothing but the pain and the forest. It was worse now; he dropped to one knee, letting out short cries of pain with each beat of his heart. The sound of roaring water rushed through his hearing, and he could swear he felt blood welling up in his ears... how had he known? How did he know all these things? Why were they so familiar? The three intruders. They were behind this. He squinted, forcing one eye open as the blurry world before him finally made itself into something visible- there. The path, just a few dozen yards off. If he could make it there, he could find his way back to town, back to his home, back to safety; he put one foot in front of the other, slowly but steadily pushing onward. He had made it no more than a few steps before he heard her voice again.

_"The pain's getting worse, isn't it? It must be almost unbearable."_

"I'll kill you for this, I swear." he half-growled, half-screeched, shaking as he tried to keep moving, doing his best to ignore the words around him. "If you're going to kill me, do it and be done."

_"I told you before, we're not your enemies." _The older warrior's voice floated through the air too; so they were all here. Good. No surprises or sneak attacks. If they were going to torment him, they might as well all see the results of their work. _"The pain is your mind trying to displace the fake memories you've created with the ones from the real world. You remember snippets, little flashes here and there... but you have to accept it as well. You have to want to remember. Please Greywulf... just try."_

"I'm not who you say I am!" he screamed, grasping at his head as the voices echoed all around him. "Get away from me!"

For a moment the voices stilled, and he thought he might have driven them off- there was an audible sigh, and he heard the voice of his own wife, his Aerie, echo in his ears. _"I'm sorry, Greywulf. I know this will hurt. Forgive me."_

A white light burned before him, enveloping the world once more... and once more he traveled through time and space, moving without taking a single step. Everything came into focus again, but instead of a warm fire inside a library, or the cold sheets of rain from his previous visions... this time there was dust. Clouds of dust and dirt, obscuring his vision and forcing him to cover his mouth to simply breathe or move, but he could not stay there. Something was wrong. A familiar voice floated across the wind... Im. No... Imoen. That was her name. The pain intensified, but his blood chilled as he listened to her words.

"You're not going to torture us any longer!"

The pain grew worse with every passing moment, but his mind exploded with panic. Something was about to happen. Something that would lead to the worst moments of his life... he couldn't let it happen, whatever it was. He pushed his way through rubble and smoke, hearing the inevitable come to pass before him, cold, calculating words following Imoen's. "Torture? Silly girl, you just don't understand what I'm doing, do you?"

Beads of sweat poured down his face as the situation played out in his mind, followed by reality. By the time he heard the flashed of teleportation magic, he had burst through the smoke and sighted the weary survivors standing across from the mad wizard Irenicus, both sides taken by surprise by the intrusion of the Cowled Wizards. It wouldn't help though. He knew it... they'd... what would they do? He stepped forward again, but shrieked as a lance of pain brought him to his knees. Tears were squeezed out of his eyes as he watched wizard after wizard fall to Irenicus' might, before he said something... something that made them stop. He raised his arms in submission, but his eyes lost none of their pride, their fire... and he was staring at Imoen with a sneer. Her face fell, her expression changing to abject terror. One man moved to take her by the arm... take her. Take her. They were going to take her-

Galmarath pushed himself to his feet, memory shooting through his mind. They were going to take Imoen. No. Not this time. This time he'd stop it, even if his head felt like it would explode under the increasing pressure and pain- He vaulted forward, barely hearing himself call her name... only to pass right through her as he tumbled into a large tree, the world around him vanishing and leaving behind the wood he had originally been in. The world spun, but when it finally cleared, he found himself looking up at three figures, each one looking down at him with a mixture of hope and wariness on their faces. He recognized her first off... "Imoen?"

"You know me. You know me again..." she fell to his side, embracing him tightly. "Greywulf, we've missed you so much..."

"Yes, I... I remember you all." he said, but his voice was low. Not angry, not cold... just low. Hollow. Imoen slowly let go, sensing something was wrong. She stood with him as his haunted eyes looked them over. "You shouldn't have come here. Any of you."

"We didn't have a choice." Aerie explained, meeting the inexplicable sadness in his features with the hope in hers. "We couldn't leave you in this place-"

"But you should have. You should've left me in here. While I'm here you're safe. I can't use the taint to hurt anyone; I can't change into the Slayer... I'm not a Bhaalspawn here. I'm just a mortal with a normal life and a home." Something in his voice cracked; he turned from them, his fist clenched. "I'm sending you three back... but I'm not coming with you. This is my home now."

"Greywulf, no!" Imoen cried out, taking him by the arm. "You can't mean that! This place isn't real! None of it is-"

"It's real enough for me!" he retorted, trying to fight the shakiness that was rapidly overtaking his limbs, his voice... and resolve. "Don't you understand, Imoen? This place is... it's what I always wanted. Deep down... all I ever wanted was peace. I finally found it here."

"Then you'd sacrifice the world for your own little corner of 'heaven'? I never thought you so selfish." Keldorn's voice cut in, his eyes narrow and unforgiving as he stared Galmarath down. "Do you see what your own desires have wrought? Sarevok's the Lord of Murder. Gorion, Khalid, Jaheira... all dead. The Order, destroyed. Dynaheir dead. Minsc, nothing but a shell of a man, consumed by his own rage. Everything you ever wanted, right? Shall I tell you how Imoen fares in the world you always wanted? The Laughing Death. That's what they called her. Your own sister..."

Galmarath trembled as he looked down at Imoen, the girl's eyes wide as she clutched him tightly. "Please, Greywulf. Come back with us. We need you... I need you." He closed his eyes tight, his fists clenched as those words and the memories of everything, both worlds ran through his mind. Seconds passed... a full minute... two minutes, no sound but that of their breathing... Greywulf opened his eyes. "You win."

"Then you'll come back-?" Aerie asked cautiously, her spirit soaring as he nodded. His face was still dark, his expression downcast... but she could see it. Galmarath was gone... Greywulf was back. "I feel the power of this world's entrances and exits. I can send you... us, back again at any time."

"Then we should go immediately. Minsc and Jaheira are undoubtedly still awaiting our return. If time in this world is anything like time in reality, they've been waiting for days." Keldorn said grimly.

"I'll send you three now... but I can't go. Not right away, I mean." he added, noting their sudden concern. "Don't worry... it's not a trick. I'll come back... but there's something I have to do first. Alone."

"Then I'll stay here with you until you do come back." Imoen offered, reaching out to him again- but she vanished before her fingertips could reach him, as did Keldorn and Aerie, their forms fading as they left the gem's fantasy and slowly returned to the real world. Greywulf watched them fade, then turned his eyes back toward the path that led to what had once been Athkatla. He took a deep breath... then began walking.

X X X X X X X

The tiny bell hung on the door rung slightly as he entered the store and home; he glanced up at it, trying to keep his composure. It was just one of the tiny details, the little moments and things he would miss. Would forever regret leaving. The sound of footsteps echoing on the wood flooring reached his ears, and as the form of Aerie, holding a small baby girl in her arms came into view, Greywulf's mouth went dry, his whole body trembling.

"You're back soon." she remarked, a smile crossing her pale features. "I'm glad... you know how she misses you while you're gone."

Greywulf didn't move; he remained rooted to the spot, his mouth opening and closing as though trying to say something, but the words just wouldn't come. How could he break her heart like this? How could he do it when every fiber of his being told him to run to her side and to his baby girl... "Galmarath? Galmarath, are you all right?"

Aerie's face had shifted from peaceful joy to worry as he remained still, his wife slowly crossing the distance between them to place one pale hand on his cheek. "I've never seen you look so... so torn. Confused."

He didn't flinch when her fingers brushed across his cheek- no matter how much he longed to embrace her, to lean in and kiss her lips and hold his daughter high... he couldn't. If he gave in now he'd never go back. It was now or never. "Aerie... you know how much I love you."

She nodded, uneasy as he searched for the words to say, his eyes going everywhere but her own gaze. "You... you've been everything I could have ever wanted in a wife. I could never have come this far... done what I have, without you at my side. I'd never have found the joy... never have been a father. My little Torie..."

He couldn't help but laugh as her hands grabbed one of his fingers, clutching at them as he tried unsuccessfully to hold back the tears that were coming. "You two are everything to me. Everything, and I'd do anything for the two of you."

"Galmarath, what's wrong?" Aerie said, her face finally showing the fear she undoubtedly felt. "What are you trying to say?"

"I'm saying... I need to say..." he felt his throat tighten, and for a moment, he felt he couldn't do it. He turned his head away, taking a step away from the two girls there before him... then said it. "I have to go. The three men and women who came a few days ago... they were right. About me. I don't belong here, not in this world. I'm needed elsewhere, and as much as I hate it... I can't just ignore it. I can't hide here. I have to leave this place... and I have to leave you. I love you so much- goodbye."

Aerie's eyes opened wide and she reached out for him- he choked out one last sentence before everything around him faded, disappearing into the mist. "Forgive me..."

X X X X X X X

The sound of the Riddle Imp humming and talking to himself provided an ambient noise for the room as the six adventurers made ready to move, gathering their gear and preparing to finish this last leg of the Spellhold dungeon. As it had turned out, three days had passed while Minsc and Jaheira waited, never leaving the gem or the sides of their comatose companions. Their injuries had healed in that time, and needless to say, when Imoen, Aerie, and Keldorn had come out of it without Greywulf, the two had been sorely tempted to go right then and there, and make their best attempts at bringing the sorcerer out. Still, they had been convinced to wait; half and hour later Greywulf had emerged, fully in control of his memory, his mind... and his taint.

Despite a few weak smiles and assurances of his well-being, he had said little or nothing to his friends in the time he had spent back in the real world. Minsc glanced over at the sorcerer, stuffing a few last things into his pack before slinging it over his shoulder, bracing himself on the quarterstaff he carried. He closed his eyes, trying to concentrate- he could still see their faces, the shock of his betrayal as he left them there, abandoned them-

"Greywulf? Are you... are you okay?" the sound of Aerie's voice, her worried tones... so much like the ones of his wife were too much for him to bear. He turned, a fury crossing his features.

"Okay? Do you... do any of you have the slightest clue what you made me lose? What I had to give up to come back to this hell?! I had parents who loved me... a wife, and a daughter! I had a life where I wasn't being chased or hunted every day, where I could come home at night to a family that loved me and cared about me. No fighting, no war, no bloodshed... just peace!" he raged, Aerie drawing back with one hand over her mouth, the others quickly coming to her side in case his fury took over... in case the Slayer took over.

"Do you know how it feels, to remember all of it? To remember my little girl, to remember my wedding day... and to know it was nothing more than a lie? To know that I didn't have to fight this taint that strangles my soul every waking moment for a time... this taint that if I gave into it right now, would kill each and every one of you for the pain you've caused me."

Aerie could say nothing; she only bowed her head in shame, unable to meet the hurt in his eyes. Finally, a voice none had really expected spoke up. "We understand."

Greywulf looked up at Minsc, the mammoth ranger stepping forward gravely as he put his hand on the sorcerer's shoulder. "How could you, Minsc? How could any of you-"

"Keldorn... he knows what it is, to lose a child." Minsc glanced at the paladin, then smiled sadly. "Jaheira knows how it feels to lose a husband. And while Minsc cannot know those things... he knows despair. The want to give up, to hide from the pain. Minsc almost gave up when Dynaheir died. But... you were there for him. And so was Imoen. And Jaheira, and then Aerie and Keldorn. We are here, Greywulf. We are here for you."

Greywulf listened... he leaned back against the wall, shaking his head as he put one hand over his face. "Gods... you're right. You're right, Minsc. And I've been in darkness for too long- I almost lost my way."

Minsc smiled comfortingly as he helped their leader to his feet again, his gaze resting on those who followed him once more. It was different this time. No despair in his eyes. No desperate longing for memories past. Just the commanding presence and the man who had always been there for them before. "Let's go. Irenicus has a lot to answer for."

The crew filed out of the room, following the Riddle Imp as he barked little tunes and musical notes. Keldorn was at the end of the line, though he glanced to his side, noting Jaheira had slowed long enough to sidle up beside him. He noted the worried look in her eyes; he spoke once, hoping to allay the fears he knew she carried. "It would appear he is in control of his taint once more... I see no sign of the Slayer reemerging any time soon. Whatever hell he has pushed himself through, I think he has emerged stronger for it. Would you not agree?"

"Perhaps…" Jaheira whispered reluctantly.

"What is it, Jaheira?" Keldorn asked in a low tone, glancing ahead to ensure that the others were out of earshot. "What do you want to say?"

"Without his soul, without that buoy against the taint of his blood… the urge, the evil within for blood will be that much stronger for him to fight. It… it is entirely possible he could fall." Jaheira said, struggling to say the words. "If he does… if the taint claims him, and he becomes the Slayer for good… how far are we willing to go? What are you willing to do to stop him, if it comes down to it?"

"What must be done." Keldorn said grimly, not hesitating a moment with his answer. "Aerie, Minsc, even Imoen… they love him and will be hard pressed to hurt him if need be. You and I… we will do what needs to be done."

"What needs to be done." she whispered, looking at Greywulf's back as they continued on. "What must be done."


	57. Part 2: Deception

The sound of gold coins clinking together was most satisfying to the ears of a certain ship's captain, the flamboyant swashbuckler emptying another of the several sacks of gold into his traveling rucksack. Saemon Havarian smiled in content as he watched the flow of gold, even if it was less than he had been promised to begin with. The captain smiled wryly to himself as he envisioned his powerful employer, the mad Irenicus. Upon delivery of Greywulf and his companions, he had asked, ever so politely of course, for the payment they had agreed upon. Irenicus' cold and impassive visage had turned to him; with only a few words, Saemon had acquiesced to whatever conditions Irenicus felt suited to comply with. So what if that was only half?

Saemon emptied the last sack of gold he had, then drew a large, jagged shard of silver from a leather sheath tucked beside his temporary bed in what made up his sleeping quarters here in Spellhold. The captain examined it for a second; he snorted, then tossed it in with the gold. Damned thing had brought him nothing but trouble... but it was still pure silver. Saemon glanced around the room for a moment longer, ensuring he had nabbed everything he wanted before leaving. Or rather, everything he was allowed to take. There was a lot of gold to be made in the artifacts and spells of the asylum... but even Saemon wasn't foolish enough to try and loot Irenicus' new home. If the Bhaalspawn and his companions weren't able to face the wizard and emerge victorious, what chance did he have?

He shook his head with a hint of regret, considering the men and women he had betrayed. The thoughts passed quickly though, and his smile quickly returned. Not like that bounty hunter Yoshimo; the man was disgusted by every action Irenicus called him to perform, although it was not like he had much of a choice, considering the geas. Foolish decision, that. Saemon chuckled to himself as he headed for the door; he hadn't survived as long as he had without ensuring that he always had an escape plan. When you made as many enemies as he did, it wasn't uncommon to see a sword drawn or a spell cast his way-

Saemon's blood chilled as the door to his room opened before his hand could reach the knob. Six figures stood beyond, each one with weapon drawn and pointed in his general direction. Saemon tried to plaster a grin back on his face, even as he slowly slid one hand towards his jacket pocket, towards the spell stone he kept there for quick escapes.

His hand jolted away as Minsc picked him up by the front of his jacket, drawing him close with a scowl on the usually cheery ranger's face. "Boo says you deserve several good thumping's. Minsc agrees."

"Your hamster's quite the vindictive sort, is he?" Saemon managed, glancing down at the other five in hopes of seeing a little less hostility. He was not rewarded. "Surely you all aren't still angry with your old friend Saemon, are you?"

"Angry?" Greywulf arched one eyebrow. "Not at all. I was actually having quite a bad day until now. Seeing you again- rather, what Minsc will do to you- well, it makes me feel so much better."

Minsc tossed Saemon onto the ground with a thud, and then drew the rather imposing Blade of Chaos from its sheath. Saemon eyed the gleaming sword, then cleared his throat rather emphatically. "True, you could proceed to dice me into little pieces, and I doubt there'd be much I could do to convince you to stop your bit of bloodsport. However, I do have some information you'll be needing to go up against Irenicus proper. That is what you six are plotting, isn't it? A final battle with your hated nemesis? Believe me... you'll need what I know if you want to stand a chance."

Jaheira tossed a glance towards Greywulf, whose eyes were firmly fixed on Saemon's own. "Surely you do not believe this viper, Greywulf? He would sell his own soul if it thought it would gain him a profit. Which, I might add, he undoubtedly has done or will do in the future."

"You wound me, what with your insinuations and accusations." Saemon said, affecting a hurt expression. "Aside from what's said and done, survival is a much better motivator than greed. True enough, Irenicus paid me to betray you and yours, but I find working with the mad wizard to be a bit more... risky, than most employers."

"You mean to say that he's threatened to kill you should you disagree with him over anything, right?" Imoen snickered. "Didn't really think this one through all the way, didja?"

"To put it mildly... yes." Saemon nodded, picking himself up off the floor. He brushed off his captain's hat, then slipped it back on with a flourish before turning to them once more. "A Horrid Wilting, if I'm not mistaken. Nasty spell, that. So, let's get back to business, that being my continued survival, aye? I tell you how you can go about your defeat of Irenicus, you let me live. Sound fair?"

"No. Not after everything you put us through..." Greywulf ground out, his mind flashing to Irenicus' triumphant face as he stripped Greywulf's soul from him- "But it'll have to do. What have you got for us?"

"And make your words count." Jaheira smiled thinly. "They will determine your lifespan."

"Still as charming as ever." Saemon tossed out, glancing in Jaheira's general direction. "First of all, I assume you know that despite your combined prowess... Irenicus will not fall easily, if at all. You'll need some backup if you intend to charge in, spells blazing."

"Way ahead of you." Greywulf forced a smile on his face. "The inmates will serve quite nicely, thank you very much, even if they might need some persuasion. Are you volunteering?"

"Me?" Havarian laughed, shaking his head wryly. "Always the kidder, eh? No, but if you think Irenicus doesn't know your plan, you're already dead."

"And just how would he know? You wouldn't betray us a second time, would you?" Imoen growled, fingering the short sword at her hip.

Saemon did not fail to notice the movement; edging away from the thief-mage, he gestured towards the door and the halls that lay beyond. "Have you forgotten? I was just the shipman. The real traitor- the one you traveled with long enough for him to anticipate this and every other move you might come up with- Yoshimo's already informed Irenicus. Ready to neutralize your little army the moment they set foot in the room."

Greywulf swore, though whether it was irritation at himself for not thinking of it, anger at Yoshimo, or frustration at having to depend on Saemon Havarian for all the aid was not quite certain. He took a moment to compose himself, then asked Saemon, "You know where Yoshimo is?"

Saemon did not answer right away; he turned from the group, then sauntered over to a small end table resting beside the bed in the room. Upon it was a small vase, holding a single rose. Saemon lifted it out, inhaled its fragrance, and then returned Greywulf's question with a cat-like smile. "I know where Yoshimo is, I know where Irenicus is... and just to show you that despite your doubts you can indeed trust me... I know where your old friend Haer'Dalis is. I assume that will be enough to ensure a stay of execution at your hands?"

Greywulf stared the swashbuckler down for a moment longer... then nodded grimly. "I think that'll just about do it."

X X X X X X X

A single footstep echoed in the darkness, the product of a boot crushing a rock underneath. It was barely audible, only a whisper to those who were listening, silent to those who were not... but it was enough to draw the attention of the head of the small band, his flashing red eyes piercing the unfortunate soul who had made the audible error. The flurry of movement was barely visible in the bleak darkness, but there was not a member of the small group there who did not see their leader close the gap between the other man and himself, his fists closing around the man's garments, pulling him close. "Do you intend to get us killed? We are nowhere near Ched Nasad... and should the illithid find us, we would wish for death before the end."

"Calm yourself, Veldrin... are the drow so weak that we cower in fear of the thought of the devourers?" a female in the group sneered, unaffected by the ire of the dark elf before her. "Lolth would be disgusted by your weakness. The Matron Mother may have given you command of this group, but do not imagine yourself too powerful. Accidents happen."

Veldrin snarled, releasing the male he had been threatening before turning back to the head of the line, not responding to the thinly veiled threat. It had been a long road to Ust Natha from their home of Ched Nasad for the group, and despite his command, he had been forced to listen to the taunts and spite from his drow rivals the whole way there. If the city of the First was not in such dire need for warriors, he would never have come here... but it didn't matter now. Whatever was happening within the walls of the city represented opportunity... glory for him and his House.

Still, the thought of Nirana and her devoted followers twisted his face into a contemptuous sneer, the white strands of his wiry hair dangling before him. Nirana had done nothing to hide her disdain for him, and he was certain she would cut his throat the first opportunity she found. With little or no support in Ust Natha, he would be an easy target... unless he went on the offensive. Veldrin let the far corners of his mouth curl upward as he remembered the lay of the land. It would be dangerous... but his rival would be killed and the blame could hardly be placed at his feet.

They moved onward through the darkness and shadows; any semblance of light was but a figment of the imagination or merely a glow emanating from the fungi or plant life that grew in the wretched caverns of the Underdark. Treachery and danger at every turn... from within and without the group. The sound of something chittering in the darkness caught all their attention; even though they were only a few miles out from their destination, they were far from safe. A sudden shape burst into view, all muscle and shell. The umber hulk blitzed wildly at the party of drow, but even its unbelievable speed was unable to bring it fast enough to match the drow warriors. A crossbow bolt buried itself in the umber hulk's shoulder, slowing it but not stopping it- until an adamantine blade dug into its chest, spilling the monster's innards as it collapsed as well, sliding to Veldrin's feet.

He growled, wiping his blade clean, then motioned for them to keep moving. At least it was only an umber hulk... far worse dangers lurked in the deep places of Faerun. The one for which Veldrin would be most thankful for... he went over his memories of the area again, in particular the large cavern entrance a few hundred yards out from Ust Natha. They were well in her territory now... stealth was paramount. If the silver one caught any sort of wind that they were approaching- he shook the thought away.

Veldrin waved one hand, bringing both Nirana and her closest ally to his side. He faced them grimly, pointing toward a set of high cliffs along the edge of the main path that would lead to Ust Natha. "If there is an ambush waiting for us, it will be along those rocksides. Both of you follow the upward path until it touches down at the end of the road. We will meet you there- make certain you warn us of any dangers."

Veldrin waited for them to acquiesce... it was a blatantly foolish move, and he knew that they knew. Giving them such high ground would allow them to not only spy threats to their party... but be threats. Should they decide to kill him, they could easily blame an ambush that they would later 'dispatch.' Nirana narrowed her eyes as she looked at him, trying to figure out his plan... but she eventually nodded to her partner, silently leaving the main group and sneaking towards the high ground. Veldrin's face did not move as he watched them vanish into the darkness, but he knew the truth. The upper caverns were rumored to connect directly to the silver one's lair. She would smell the two of them before they took a dozen steps, once they reached the top.

He and the others who had stayed below kept on moving, creeping through the darkness swiftly and silently. He risked a glance back at the two he had sent upward- they were already at the top, moving along with such stealth he himself could barely make them out. Nirana had always been quick and agile; it was part of what made her so dangerous... and attractive. He chuckled as he remembered their several lustful nights together, right before he had been named leader of the war party heading to aid Ust Natha- then shrugged the thought away. Attractive or not, he refused to continue with her dagger constantly at his back.

Nirana crawled ever onward, her grace and surefootedness on the rocksides above belying the fury that would have made her tremble in rage had she been in other straits. The male would dare command her? He would find out soon enough... she was too competent to allow herself the luxury of making any kind of outward strike against him, but there would be ample opportunity within the city. A quick alliance with one of the houses, perhaps Despana or Jaelat- she smiled as she pictured her blade cutting Veldrin down, spilling his blood in retribution for the insult of his command. Did he think she was really foolish enough to use this moment to attack? As if he were not eyeing her every other moment, with orders to his own loyalists to strike her down if anything should happen to him? No... she would do exactly as commanded, and ensure that nothing happened to the war party below as they continued on.

A sudden blast of steam hissed from a crevice in the wall a foot beyond her, nearly eliciting a gasp of surprise from her. She kept her mouth shut though, glaring in disgust before quickly motioning for her companion to keep moving. They passed the offending area, this time watching for any more similar surprises. Neither noticed the larger crevice nearly fifty feet above them, or the large mass that seemed to form above. Gleaming silver eyes appeared in the darkness; a guttural growl echoed through the rocks above the two creeping along the rock face. It watched the drow elves continue to invade her territory for a moment longer, then flapped its wings and silently took to the air.

"We must be very cautious..." Veldrin whispered to those behind him, even as the beginnings of the drow road that led into Ust Natha came into view. "We are deep into the territory of the silver one. She will not brook intruders lightly should we be discovered."

"Veldrin... what of Nirana?" Ria'tel frowned, the drow mage shifting his robes while sidestepping a small pile of stones. "Why did you not warn her-"

A piercing scream echoed through the dark, along with a booming roar of triumph... and warning. All eyes immediately shot up to where the drow and her companion had been traveling along the rock face... and in the gloom and darkness, the faint outline of a great beast could barely be made out. "She has made that discovery." Veldrin smirked. "Let us continue before it turns its eyes upon us."

Without warning, the crack of a stone hitting another stone reverberated through the area, echoing across every cliff face in the area. Each drow whirled around, looking for the offender- but they soon realized they had bigger problems. Veldrin's eyes widened as he turned back to the shape in the darkness, only to find it no longer howling in triumph, but silent, its eyes fixed on him, picking them out in the darkness. He opened his mouth to speak- only to his tongue dry and wordless as the beast took flight, soaring straight towards him with a crackle of silver forming in its jaws.

Explosions of magic and screams of pain could be heard all the way back to the cliff face that the corpses of the two drow now rested on. The shadows were long and harsh, bloodstained and tinted by the gruesome deaths that had occurred... but one shadow did not remain. It shifted in the night, glancing back down at the rapidly dying drow party below. Neither the silver one nor the drow above had noticed it... and with a silent throw of a stone, the drow party's position had been betrayed. The shadowy figure smiled as she hastily crept up the cliffs, slipping into the crevice the beast had emerged from. She moved like a spider, skittering down the rocks and cliffs without hesitation. If the silver one returned while she was still here... she banished that thought as she fell the last fifty feet down and landed in a crouch. Whirling around in case of any guardians, she found the cavern to be quite empty... except for what appeared to be a bedding formed from rock and stone, gathered to hold and protect the precious little objects that rested within.

Veldrin's cries abruptly cut out; Bodhi smiled as she leapt to the top of the rock bed, gazing inside. Irenicus would be pleased when he arrived.

X X X X X X X

_"Me?" Aerie's eyes widened as Greywulf nodded at her, the others a good distance away so that their conversation could be somewhat private. "Are you certain... I mean, wouldn't Jaheira... o-or Keldorn be more suited to this?"_

_"No, I'm sure." Greywulf nodded, placing one hand on her shoulder. "Go with Saemon. You and he will free Haer'Dalis, while we find a way to free the inmates. Once you've got him, we'll meet you when we deal with Yoshimo. Simple."_

_"But... what if Saemon betrays us?" she said with uncertainty. "You know I'm not the most... well, I'm no detective. You or Jaheira would probably be much better at stopping him or seeing if he's going to turn on us."_

_The sorcerer chuckled, then gazed into Aerie's eyes. "No, I'm quite certain you're the right one for the job. Believe me... you'll do fine. Besides, if Haer'Dalis is injured badly, we'll need a healer there, and you're the best we've got."_

_She smiled weakly at the compliment, then exhaled deeply, steeling herself. "If you're sure..."_

_"I am." Greywulf paused, as though choosing his next few words carefully. "Aerie, I know we really haven't talked since... well, since that business with the gem."_

_"You mean where we were married and had a daughter?" she added, saying what he had been hesitant to speak. "What about it?"_

_He arched one eyebrow at her nonchalance concerning the whole matter. "You don't seem like you have any doubts or concerns over the whole thing- no regrets?"_

_"Are you asking me if I thought this would change things between us?" Aerie asked with a sigh, meeting his gaze. "If I thought... that we would share something different, now that I know what might have been?"_

_She didn't wait for him to answer, but merely shook her head. Only the slightest hint of sadness remained in her face as she spoke, just enough to give witness to the fact that the words she spoke were not easy to say. "That... that wasn't you in there. That world was horrible, despite anything we might have had. I-if that's what it would take for us to be together... for us to share a life- then I don't want any part of it."_

_Her words obviously took him by surprise; Greywulf reached out with one hand, just barely touching the side of her cheek- she shut her eyes, bringing one of her own hands up to pull his away. "Please Greywulf... I've barely managed to put this behind me- don't make me face it again. D-don't... don't make me want to love you again-"_

_He dropped his hand, slowly taking a step back, clearing the suddenly intimate atmosphere. In seconds, it was once again just Greywulf and Aerie, two friends... with nothing more to say about what had happened. He inhaled sharply, then relaxed, smiling gently at her. "All right then. You and Saemon better get moving. It won't be easy to find a way to get the inmates to work with us."_

_"Like you said before..." Aerie smiled as she and the pirate headed out, "Easy's not what we do."_

Aerie was shook from her memory of the conversation she had held with Greywulf scant minutes prior as the sound of magical energies subsiding echoed through the room. The shimmering wall imprisoning the unconscious bard warped and faded into nothingness as Saemon pulled the lever nearby down, deactivating the cell's containment magic. Saemon had been true to his word; just a few dozen rooms down the hall they had found what looked like a miniature version of the torture chambers that Irenicus had maintained under Waukeen's Promenade. Locked within the energy fields had been the unmistakable form of Haer'Dalis, the blue-haired bard who had been captured by Yoshimo's treachery as well. Aerie had been assigned to accompany Saemon to find the bard while Greywulf and the others attempted to rally the inmates of the asylum to their cause.

Aerie grunted as she and Saemon pulled Haer'Dalis from the cage, his limp body dragging across the ground. As soon as he was firmly out of the imprisoning runes, Saemon exhaled, then turned to Aerie with a bow and a grin. "Just as I told you, eh? No need to worry about ol' Saemon... as good as his word!"

"Right..." Aerie remarked, glancing back down at Haer'Dalis. "He doesn't appear to be wounded badly..."

Saemon shook his head. "No, I would gather not. Irenicus experimented on him... but nothing permanent. Just painful... and speaking of pain, I really have no intention of getting involved in the crossfire when you have your little battle royale. So... I'll see you all if you survive."

Aerie whirled to face him, but Saemon was already clutching the spell stone in his pocket, waving good-bye as the portal swallowed him, transporting him to parts unknown. Her eyes narrowed as she watched the fading magic sparkle in the air; somehow Aerie was not convinced she had seen the last of the sailor. She glanced around; hoping none of Irenicus' guards or spies would take notice of her. Despite Saemon's insistence that the mad wizard's only allies in this place were Yoshimo and Bodhi, she'd sooner believe a snake-oil salesman than Havarian-

The sound of a slight groaning immediately drew her attention; Aerie quickly dropped to one knee to examine the stirring visage of Haer'Dalis. A shudder of pain ran through the tiefling's body as his scarred features affected a grimace; both eyes flashed open, darting here and there to take in his surroundings. As soon as they focused in upon Aerie, a smile crossed his lips. "Is this the celestial plane? Surely it must be, for this poor bard to awaken to the visage of such a beautiful angel."

Aerie tried to force back a smile but failed; she helped him sit up, one arm around his shoulder to try and support the weakened tiefling. "You're safe now- take it easy though... we don't know what Irenicus did to you."

"You might not, but I have a fine idea of what transpired." Haer'Dalis grunted, rubbing his head as he tried to regain his senses. "Might I assume that you and the raven escaped his clutches? To think you took the time to come and see to my rescue... truly, I am flattered. I see that my affections were well placed when I first laid eyes upon thee. If you'd permit, I would show a token of my gratitude."

He leaned over and planted a single kiss upon Aerie's cheek, the Avariel doing her best to show no reaction to Haer'Dalis' blatant flirtations, though she could not quite suppress a smile from blossoming on her features. "You have the worst sense of timing, my bard. We must hurry; Greywulf would have us meet up with him... and he would also have your help against Irenicus when the time comes."

Haer'Dalis nodded, taking Aerie's hand to pull himself up, still a tad shaky on his feet. "I see. A quest for vengeance and payback, is it? I would gladly assist you... though I fear it shall take some time to regain my senses and reflexes. The vulture did not spare me the rod in your perceived demise... some kind of planar traveling experiments. Pulled in and out of the ether so quickly and violently... my body still shudders at the memories."

"We have a little time; maybe enough for me to cast a few healing spells." Aerie continued, opening drawers and cabinets that lined the room quickly and determinedly. "Once we find your equipment, we can get moving... we still have to find Yoshimo too."

Aerie's eyes brightened as her search finally provided fruit; she pulled a belt with two short swords attached on either side, as well as a small rucksack with the rest of the bard's traveling items. She tossed the belt and sack to the still unsteady tiefling, then strode over to the door, keeping watch nervously while Haer'Dalis donned his gear. The bard watched Aerie with an eagle eye for a moment as he snugged the belt up... "The parrot yet lives, does he? A wise decision then, to deal with him prior. Have you any idea where the brigand hides now?"

"If Saemon didn't lie... and he hasn't so far," Aerie admitted, "He should be just a few more doors down this hall."

Aerie abruptly quieted, her eyes dropping to the floor a bit. Haer'Dalis noticed, frowning. "Is something the matter, my dove? A song or a limerick perhaps, to cheer and hearten your spirits for battle?"

The elf shook her head, smiling sadly. "I just... I hoped we wouldn't have to do this. Yoshimo was a friend... somewhere, underneath the geas and the torment... I don't think he wanted to betray us. I wish we could have saved him..."

"I understand." Haer'Dalis nodded, his hand slowly drifting across the table to a spell scroll lying there. "And that is precisely why I cannot allow you to proceed any further. Forgive me Aerie... but even my feelings for you cannot interfere with my quest."

Aerie whirled in surprise, her eyes widening as Haer'Dalis' voice rang out, intoning the words written on the scroll- magic engulfed Aerie, freezing her to the spot. Even as her whole body ceased its motion, she found herself still able to speak, her eyes wide and full of the shock of betrayal. "Haer'Dalis! What have you done?!"

"Nothing permanent, my dove. Just a Hold spell. By the time it wears off... Yoshimo will be dead, and I will be gone. I do not intend on fighting Irenicus. As much as this sparrow may dislike the vulture... I am quite content to be an observer in this particular bout." the bard said, stretching one arm as he dropped the spent scroll. "And as I said, I understand your feelings toward Yoshimo. And that is precisely why I cannot allow you to accompany me. Your spirit might hesitate, perhaps grant mercy or peace. For this man, there can be no such offerings, no such terms of surrender."

"But you were-"

"Weary?" Haer'Dalis cut her off with a tone of surprise. "Faint? Barely able to stand, much less fight on my own? Perhaps I was not quite as infirm as I made out. However, I will say this... I did not lie about my feelings towards you, sweet Aerie."

He came to her side and tucked a stray lock of her blonde hair behind her pointed ears. He leaned over and kissed her once more upon the lips, her eyes widening as he did. "As I said... forgive me, dear Aerie. I wish you and the raven the best of luck when fighting Irenicus. You will need it."

With that, Haer'Dalis vanished from Aerie's sight, leaving her wondering and not for the first time, just whose side Haer'Dalis was on... and more importantly, when all was said and done, who she could really trust... or love.


	58. Part 2: Battle Royale

The footsteps were the first clue. The sound of the steady plodding on the concrete floors, the familiar pacing and gait... he recognized it with only a moment's thought. Yoshimo let the edge of his mouth curl up wryly, considering how easily the moves came to him, what most would consider extraordinary was merely routine for him. Bounty hunter. Manhunter. A title many considered to be nothing more than a specialized thief. Nobody realized how much training went into the job- learning how to recognize a mark by the sound of their footsteps, or by several dozen other minute details that could mean the difference between success and failure... life or death.

Thus, when the door swung open, Yoshimo was not caught off guard, his weapons halfway across the room- he was standing in the center of his room bare-chested, all impediments and hindrances to movement like tables and chairs already moved away, leaving room for the battle that was sure to come. His target came into view- Yoshimo drew one of his katanas and smirked at the bard. "Haer'Dalis. I have been waiting for you."

The tiefling did not respond right away; he shrugged and closed the door behind him, flexing his hands as he gazed at Yoshimo. He knelt for a brief second, sweeping one hand over the dust and dirt covered floor, covering his palm as he proceeded to draw Entropy from its sheath. "You should have been. There was little chance I had forgotten about our feud."

"I could have killed you when you came in, you know." Yoshimo remarked, remaining still as Haer'Dalis proceeded in the same manner with his other hand, then drawing Chaos to his off-hand, the bard testing their weight in sequence. "It would not have been difficult... a throwing blade through your heart before you had a chance to dodge or think of deflecting it."

"Then why didn't you?" Haer'Dalis asked with a suppressed smile, the look in his eyes telling that he already knew the answer. "Growing soft, hound? Repentant... no. Suicidal is the word we're looking for, isn't it? No armor?"

"You said it yourself... my punishment is to live." the thief growled, the first hint of anger entering his features. "You had your chance to kill me, and you chose to spare me and force me to continue my servitude to Irenicus. I would kill you slowly for that indignity."

"You would try, rather." Haer'Dalis laughed, flipping the grip he held on his left blade, holding it like a knife-fighter. "The last time we dueled, I defeated you despite the added threat of Saemon Havarian at my back. Why should this round be any different?"

Yoshimo smiled broadly, and for just a brief moment, Haer'Dalis was unnerved. "Why? Because this time, I have nothing left to hold me back. Every ounce of resistance I had has been spent. Irenicus owns me, mind, body, and soul. I am a tool of his will now... and you must be destroyed. I obey."

Yoshimo raised one katana, holding it at attack position... drawing Haer'Dalis' attention from his other hand. The empty hand was not empty after all; it snapped forward, hurling a small edged blade that sung through the air, glinting brightly. It embedded itself in Haer'Dalis' bardic scale, inches from impaling his heart. The bard glanced down at it, then smirked at Yoshimo. "Perhaps you wish you had worn your own leathers now, hound?"

The thief did not respond, only waited. Haer'Dalis frowned, then jolted as a sizzling began burning his chest. He clutched at his armor and shirt, yanking them off as the acid drenched throwing blade ate through the armor, leaving red welts and burns on Haer'Dalis' skin from where it had touched him. "No more running. No armor or close escapes. One of us dies now. Let it be decided."

With that, Yoshimo shouted a cry and drew his other blade, both katanas coming down towards Haer'Dalis' head. The bard swung Chaos up to block, the blue strands of his hair flying wildly as he swung around the other side, trying to stab Yoshimo with Entropy. The cut barely missed, but Yoshimo let his left katana slide off the block. It met Entropy, pinning it to the ground. For a brief second, both men stood inches away from each other, one blade locked high, the other low. Sweat poured off them as the two men fought for supremacy- Haer'Dalis abruptly threw his head forward, slamming into Yoshimo's face. The thief grunted and stumbled back, touching his lip quickly, looking at the blood dripping from his mouth. He spat to the side, then faced Haer'Dalis again, awaiting the bard's attack.

The tiefling crouched as if to spring forward- but instead jumped back, hurriedly beginning a series of incantations. Yoshimo's eyes widened; he had traveled with Greywulf long enough to recognize the spell being cast, and it would not be pretty if he wasn't able to dodge fast enough- a fireball leapt from the bard's hands, Yoshimo's dodge putting him just inches from being caught in its blast radius. Still, a long stream of flame had brushed his back, raising blisters and welts on the bare skin.

Yoshimo came up from the dodge in a forward roll, dropping both katanas while his hands went for the tools at his belt. He came up with the grapnel and rope he had used so many times for breaking and entering- he flung it forward, catching a bookshelf behind Haer'Dalis. With a tug, the large shelf began toppling over, catching the back edge of Haer'Dalis' leg as he attempted to dodge out of the way. Jolts of pain ran up and down the bard's trapped leg; he watched Yoshimo move up, sensing victory- Haer'Dalis spat a number of incantations, sending a flurry of magic missiles back into the shelf, splintering the wood and blowing chunks out of the shelf. With his leg freed, Haer'Dalis leapt forward towards his opponent; despite the unexpected escape, Yoshimo was not idle. An elbow strike snapped Haer'Dalis' chin hard, batting him to the side. The coppery taste of blood grew in Haer'Dalis' mouth; he shook it away and focused, his eyes widening to see Yoshimo bringing a katana blade down towards him- he rolled left, then right, each time hearing the edge of the weapon slicing grooves and nicks into the concrete floor beside him. His last roll was cut off by the sight of the gleaming blade slicing an inch in front of his face, stopping him cold.

Before the bounty hunter could try to slice his opponent in two again, Haer'Dalis kicked out with a boot unexpectedly; it caught his knee, a bone breaking move had there been more force behind it. Still, it was more than enough to throw Yoshimo's aim and balance off, sending him tumbling to the ground. Even falling Yoshimo lunged out with his katana- it slid across Haer'Dalis chest, leaving a long thin line of red that burned with each movement. Haer'Dalis came up in a kneeling position, clutching his weapons tightly as he gasped angrily for breath, fixing Yoshimo in his sight. Yoshimo had done the same- each warrior squarely matched... or so it seemed. In a blur of motion, Haer'Dalis dropped one weapon to make the hand motions for a spell- Yoshimo dropped a katana to go for another throwing knife, the edge on it glowing green as it sat on his belt.

The timing was uncanny- a flurry of flame arrows came soaring through the air towards Yoshimo, the thief ducking and rolling, using every ounce of his acrobatic skill to avoid getting hit, ceasing only to fling the dagger he held when he believed all the arrows were past. He was off by one. As soon as the knife had left his hand, he saw the last flame arrow soar into his vision, striking one shoulder and igniting, the flames scorching and blackening the surrounding skin of the wound. Yoshimo cried out, falling to the ground as the magical spell sputtered and slowly faded within his body.

Across the room, the throwing dagger struck Haer'Dalis' arm, digging into the elbow joint. The tiefling wasted no time in grabbing the weapon and flinging it out... but he knew with one look at the drab olive color rapidly surrounding the wound that it was too late. He dropped to his knees, slumping over onto the ground without a word.

Seconds passed... turning into minutes. No one moved, nothing was said. The only sound was the labored breathing of two wounded men... and at long last, one of them stirred. His locks of black hair were tangled and strewn all about his shoulders and face as Yoshimo finally made it to his feet. One arm hung limp, nearly unusable after the flame arrow had exhausted itself upon him, but at the very least it had cauterized the wound, preventing him from bleeding out. He limped over to Haer'Dalis, gazing down at the bard, a greenish tint beginning to color his skin. His breaths were coming in short, ragged gasps, eyes wide and dilated.

Yoshimo knelt, checking Haer'Dalis' throat and wrist... he stood, shaking his head. "A fast-acting poison... your suffering should end in moments."

Haer'Dalis' body began to shudder, his breaths coming quicker and shorter... his back arched as he managed a few words, just barely audible to Yoshimo. "Perhaps... I may have underestimated you- at... last... uhh... oblivion..."

The bard ceased moving, his body finally falling limp. His victorious opponent straightened up and stalked over to his equipment and armor, stopping briefly to use what little medical supplies he had to attempt to treat the wounds he had suffered. Even as he grimaced, the sting of his cuts bringing tears to his eyes, he considered Haer'Dalis' final words. Oblivion... as a doomguard, he welcomed it. He wondered if it was everything he had been hoping for- Yoshimo shook his head, considering the folly of such imagining. In a few hours at most, he wouldn't have to imagine. No matter what happened... whether Irenicus prevailed, or if by some miracle Greywulf slew his hated foe... he would meet the same fate as Haer'Dalis. Oblivion. That, Yoshimo considered, was ironic.

X X X X X X X

Aerie's heart was beating fast and hard as she ran down the corridors of Spellhold. Even though she was out of breath, she couldn't help but whisper words of anger and self-blame as she moved, her robes fluttering in the breeze of her run. Stupid, stupid, stupid... first letting Saemon trick her into thinking he wouldn't turn tail the moment she let him out of her sight, the next was trusting Haer'Dalis. He was a Doomguard! A worshipper of chaos itself... she shook her head again. He was nothing but trouble... and a good kisser. She shook the random thought away, then continued, hoping to get back to Greywulf and the others without too much delay. They were undoubtedly waiting for her right now, wondering what was keeping her-

An explosion rocked the hall, nearly throwing her off her feet. Aerie braced herself against the wooden paneling beside her, then narrowed her eyes as she gazed down the hall that led to the main room where Greywulf had said he would bring the inmates once freed. Bits and pieces of rock fell from the ceiling as another explosion rocked the area; she sidestepped a small shower of rubble that cascaded from the ceiling of the upper floors, and then darted the final distance down the hall, flung open the door- only to find chaos. Across the room stood an elderly elven mage, his blathering about werewolves just barely drowned out by the screeching of the former Coordinator Wanev. The elf flung a barrage of Magic Missiles at Wanev... only to have them pepper the wall behind him, never touching the other mage.

Before she could try and make sense of the situation, or for that matter ponder why a Magic Missile spell had actually missed, a hand grabbed Aerie's wrist, yanking her down behind an overturned table. She met the eyes of an extremely stressed and extremely worried Greywulf, seated beside Imoen as the two tried to stay behind cover. Aerie glanced past his shoulder, spotting another set of overturned bookcases and chairs, behind which Keldorn, Jaheira, and Minsc were taking refuge. Greywulf opened his mouth to speak, but his words were squelched as he raised part of his cloak, shielding his face from a rain of splinters, courtesy of an exploding chair.

"What did you say?" Aerie cried out, trying to be heard over the constant thunder of magic.

"I asked if you'd found Haer'Dalis!" Greywulf shouted back, peeking over the top once nervously before returning to focus on Aerie. "Where'd he and Saemon go?"

Aerie mentally steeled herself; the moment she'd been dreading, bringing news of her failure. She almost wished she were fighting the inmates instead. Almost. "Saemon... he got away. He used a spell of some kind... a dimension door, I think."

"I'm not surprised." Greywulf growled, though it sounded like less of irritation with her than with the constant insanities pouring from the mouth of the gnome Tiax as she skittered across the room like a rubber ball, bouncing from mage to mage, demanding fealty with increasing frustration before being flung away by foot or spell. "No loss... I didn't expect him to stand with us for long. What about Haer'Dalis?"

She bit her tongue, trying to figure out a gentle way of putting it- but with the constant threat of annihilation by insane asylum patients, it seemed a bit unimportant. "He... he turned on me. Used a Hold spell to trap me while he went to confront Yoshimo on his own."

"What?" Imoen's eyes opened wide as Aerie winced, trying to avoid the stares of accusation she was sure would come. "Alone? After being subject to-"

"He seemed in fine condition to me... at least, enough to fool me into thinking he needed help." she explained.

Greywulf didn't reply for a moment- he finally turned to her again, his eyes narrowing. "Do you know what happened? Is Yoshimo out of the picture?"

"I don't know... the spell kept me there for at least ten minutes; after I was free I headed straight for the room Yoshimo was supposed to be in. There had obviously been some kind of battle- bloodstains and scorch marks marred the whole place. But the strangest thing was there were no bodies. Not Haer'Dalis, Yoshimo... nobody."

"So what you're saying is both of them or neither of them could be dead." Greywulf summarized with a scowl, jerking his head to the side as a fireball came close to incinerating their position. "Damn... we could have used some backup."

He glanced back at Aerie, noting the look of self-blame in her faxce; he managed a slight smile of encouragement, squeezing her shoulder quickly. "It's all right. It's why I sent you, you know? You're not always going to have us at your back, and now is as good a time as any to learn how to cope."

"You picked now for a life lesson in adventuring?" Imoen asked incredulously, ducking as another piece of wood shrapnel flew over their heads. "Wasn't there a better time?!"

"Is there ever a 'good' time?" Greywulf tossed back, nodding to Aerie once more. "Don't worry about it. We'll make do... we've got an army at our back right? Of course, one might question the wisdom of having these folks at our back..."

"Speaking of which, what happened here?" Aerie tucked herself tighter in behind cover, shuddering as she heard the laughs of the child Dili.

"We found the inmates and brought them here, just like planned... but apparently the spell Greywulf and I crafted to keep them somewhat sedated wore off a little sooner than we hoped." Imoen explained, chuckling nervously. "They didn't... don't, seem all that interested in killing each other, or us... as long as we don't try and stop them."

"We can't just let them run free like this; someone's going to die sooner or later." Aerie insisted.

"You're right... and it'll probably be one of us." Greywulf pointed out as he glanced over at the other three, still doing their best to stay clear of the spells being hurled amongst the inmates. "I don't think we can control them... but we might be able to turn their attention towards better pursuits."

"Another illusion?" Imoen asked, her eyes lighting up.

"You got it." Greywulf smiled, raising his hands and beginning to chant. Magic swirled around his fingertips, green mists forming and taking shape as Imoen joined the spellcraft, adding her power to his. Aerie understood after a few seconds, then followed suit. Greywulf allowed himself to smile between words as he listened- her confidence was growing. Good then, that he had let her go after Haer'Dalis, even if things had gone differently than expected; she was still the newest member, and had yet to face the challenges the others had. Everything she did spoke to her growing experience and confidence... he was glad his trust was not in vain.

"My pretties!! You shan't have them! They are mine to hold, to-to- go away!" The broken bard Naljier Skal, once so bold to see beyond the edge of the multiverse, threw up walls of flame and magic in an effort to keep the pounding of the gnome Tiax at bay as he howled in fury, trying to reach the bard and force him to bow in service. He shook, not with fear or anger, just because he always shook nowadays. It was how he lived... if it could be called living. Naljier twitched, trying to regain focus. What had he been doing- pretties! His pretties- must protect them from-

"Cease... all of you."

The bard heard a scream echo through the room, suddenly silent and dead after the constant explosions and sounds of battle. He wondered briefly who had screamed, only to realize it was him. That led to the next question of why- and when he saw the figure who owned the voice he had heard, he screamed again. Jon Irenicus stood amidst them all, his leering and impassive face fixed on all of them at once. His arms were folded, his sneer that showed his contempt unmistakable.

"Return to your cells, weaklings. Do not make me destroy you." he raised one hand, letting a crackle of black lightning, a flash of darkness rather than light, cover his fist. "Obey, or die."

For a moment, Naljier wavered... what to do? He was powerful. More so... he was the boss! He fed them. Not well, but he fed them. He made the rules. He didn't like the rules, or the fact that all of them cause him pain and suffering, but they were still rules, damn it! Of course... he had never been where he could fight back before. He was always in the cell, the one getting lashed or jolted... maybe he could turn the tables? Even as he mulled his disjointed thoughts over, the scream of Wanev interrupted his thoughts. "You! You did this... you caused the pain! Stole it from me! Took my place- killed my thoughts! Diediediediedie!!!"

A ball of raw magic exploded upon Irenicus' chest, sending anything nearby flying, including Naljier. He shook his head, then decided to go with his basic instinct. When in doubt... attack.

Keldorn shielded his eyes at the blazing light and energy emanating from the place where their mages had conjured the illusion of Irenicus. They would be lucky if the whole floor didn't collapse- even with the wards placed on the asylum to keep its structural integrity intact in case of an inmate escape, he had his doubts. The brown smoke of a Horrid Wilting spell erupted in the center of the room, a little too close to him for comfort. He moved away just a hair... frowning as he watched part of the wooden table he was taking refuge behind crumble away. He shot Jaheira a look that expressed what they were both thinking. _By the gods, I hope this works._

Suddenly, a shout echoed over the din of thunder and lightning- the gaunt woman Aphril, her eyes white and unseeing yet seeing all at once, stumbled forward, screeching in either terror or pain... or maybe something more. "No!! No, I see the truth! It is not he! Not him! A lie! A trick by those who hide from us! There, and there!"

Her long fingers pointed at their hiding places; Greywulf saw the growing anger on the faces of the inmates, and made a decision. He leapt to his feet, raising both hands. "Yes... you're right. All of you... it was an illusion. That's all. Not really Irenicus-"

That name brought deathly silence to the group, as though none of them remembered that just seconds ago they had been engaged in what they had believed to be a full fledged battle with the mad wizard. Dili looked at Greywulf with intense fear, trembling as she whimpered, "Irenicus? I…I took his face once. His punishment was…"

"To look to him is too far…" Naljier Skal cried. "I cannot look to him."

"He is cold throughout all the planes." Aphril said solemnly. "None walk where he does, though they see him not."

"I would prefer to face the dogs of fire themselves!" Dradeel shouted. "This Irenicus is surely a tool of the Gibbering Twelve!"

"But you can stop him!" Greywulf cut them off, shouting to be heard over their increasingly loud ramblings and frightened cries. "Together, we can bring him down… we just have to be willing to work together-"

Wanev suddenly erupted in laughter, cutting off the increasingly frustrated sorcerer. "Hehehehehe…he did this… he did this! I will… We must find him! He is the cause! He is the one who brings the tests! I will not rest until his head is mine and mine and mine alone!"

Wanev erupted into another bout of insane laughter, whereupon Greywulf took the opportunity to say, "Yes! He has tortured you all and now is the time to strike back! Now is the time to take your vengeance upon Irenicus!"

Tiax, either by actual ego or by worry that Wanev was stealing the spotlight, snorted loudly, stepping in front of the still-cackling mage with chest puffed out. "Tiax shall face him alone! Tiax judges you not worthy of helping him! But you may watch if you wish!"

With that, the gnome began casting a spell, transporting them all in a flash of brilliant light. When the light died, they found themselves, one and all, in the same chamber where Irenicus had ripped the souls of Greywulf and Imoen out. The bodies of the Cowled Wizards and Shadow Thieves that had been sacrificed were still rotting in their jars, and dried blood stained the floor everywhere. It's coppery, acrid smell still was very evident, polluting the very air they breathed. Electricity still jumped through the wires set up, as did the remnants of the magics that had been cast. The shock of the rituals Irenicus had performed were still lingering, and both Imoen and Greywulf felt a rush of anger and fear as the memory of their experiences came flooding back, the chamber each of them had been imprisoned within still standing there, as though taunting them with the loss of their souls.

In the midst of this destruction and death, a lone figure stood, turning to face the expulsion of magic the portal spell had caused. He turned fully around, and at long last, Greywulf and Jon Irenicus stood face to face.

There was dead silence for a brief second, the lone figure of Irenicus standing before the army of mages and warriors, all out to destroy him. Irenicus looked upon the group before him; he laughed, then shook his head in what appeared to be fascination. "So... you have released all my test subjects. How wonderfully mad of you. I would not have expected this in the least, so dangerously risky it is... if not for my trusted spy. He told me, of course."

"Yoshimo's been taken care of, Irenicus." Greywulf snarled, pointing his quarterstaff at the wizard. "Whatever you planned for him... it's over."

"As over-eager as ever, but your boasting is wasted on me." Irenicus sneered. "You are no threat, not even with your army of madness. Your fate has been sealed with the curse I transferred to you. I have the souls of both you and Imoen, and they have healed myself and Bodhi. You will die in our place… or worse."

Irenicus laughed once, and then stepped down the stairs he was on, leering at Greywulf. "Bodhi tells me you have exhibited a… transformation. With your will slowly fading, perhaps the essence of Bhaal will rise to take you completely. That would be a sight, I am sure. And as for Yoshimo..."

The form of their once companion and now traitor slipped out of the darkness, his face hard as stone, no trace of sorrow or regret. Aerie's blood froze as she realized the implications; if Yoshimo was still here, that meant that Haer'Dalis was-

"The tiefling fought bravely... but it mattered little in the end. Even the strongest warrior succumbs to the serpent's venom." he intoned emotionlessly.

"And just when I thought you couldn't disappoint me any further." Keldorn growled. "I had hoped you might show some fortitude... I see I was wrong."

"None of this matters, in the end." Irenicus tsked. "I have given my servant the means to destroy you all; a set of wands attuned to each inmate, able to render them dead within seconds. Yoshimo... squelch their hopes. Crush them all."

A number of breaths could be heard catching as they realized what this meant. Their back-up, their army... useless. Irenicus would slaughter them in their weakened condition- Yoshimo did not move, he only closed his eyes, his voice grating darkly. "I cannot, master."

Irenicus whirled, his eyes narrowing as he looked upon his servant. "What? I have given you an order, servant... obey!"

Yoshimo's face twitched, his body quivering as he felt the power of the geas he had sworn. He shuddered once, then fixed his gaze upon Irenicus again. "I meant what I said... I cannot. The wands are destroyed... by my hand."

The sound of a sonic boom echoed as Yoshimo flew across the room, courtesy of a magically fueled backhand. "You dared to defy my geas, slave? To try and betray me from within? Enough! Your pathetic efforts and mewlings mean even less to me than Greywulf's! Die, all of you! I have restored my soul and will work my revenge without your interference!"

For the first time, the battle was joined. Screams of rage and fury echoed through the room as Minsc, Jaheira and Keldorn all launched themselves at Irenicus, their weapons swinging, stabbing and hacking at the embattled mage. Greywulf, Aerie, and Imoen all stood back and smote him with every spell they knew, blasting fire, ice, lightning, energy, acid, anything and everything at Irenicus. The inmates were not idle either. Every last one of them was unleashing all their spells upon Irenicus, hailing him with energy that shook the room.

Though it seemed as though nobody could survive such an attack, there stood Irenicus, his magical shielding covering himself from both the physical hits he was taking as well as the massive amount of energy that was being thrown at him. He snarled, throwing back spells of his own, striking Jaheira first with a magical fist, throwing her across the room.

He paid a price though, as soon as his concentration split to attacking, his shielding visibly weakened. He quickly reinforced it, but soon enough Jaheira was back, her fury driving her forward. Irenicus continued to attack, throwing out one spell then reinforcing his shields lest they shatter and leave him to die. He grunted ever so slightly with the effort to maintain against such a powerful force, and for a moment Greywulf's heart leapt, hoping to end the battle quickly.

However, it was not to be, as Irenicus dropped his shielding completely to unleash a sunfire blast, knocking away all the fighters nearby with intense heat and magical energy. Given this new breathing space, the magics of Irenicus were fully unleashed. Purple lightning crackled in one fist as he thrust it forward, summoning a large, disembodied hand to pick Wanev up from the ground physically. The former director gasped for breath as the shimmering fist clutched him, but with a jerk of Irenicus' hand, the magical fist contracted, sending the sound of crunching bones echoing throughout the room.

As Wanev's body fell with a sickening thud, Greywulf sent a blast of fiery arrows soaring towards Irenicus. The mage saw them coming and with a raised arm, deflected them all just before countering with his own attack, Chain Lightning jumping through the floor to strike everyone nearby. Greywulf fell to the ground, smoking from the sheer power he had been hit with. He struggled to look up, seeing Minsc and Keldorn charging once more, weapons ready to fall in an instant. Irenicus, however, was faster. He uttered a stun power word, stopping Minsc in his tracks, then flung a skull trap spell at Keldorn, the exploding skull impacting Keldorn directly on the breastplate, sending him flying once more.

Before Irenicus could turn to finish the frozen ranger, he was hit by a barrage of spells from a combination of Tiax, Dradeel, and Aerie, causing his spell shield to shimmer and distort, just at the shatter point. However, Irenicus quickly reinforced it, then countered by throwing a Horrid Wilting spell into the midst of the inmate spellcasters. As soon as the cloud of death swept into their midst, Tiax and Dradeel fell to the ground, the moisture of their bodies sucked completely dry, their skeletal husks crumbling into dust.

Aerie's reflexes were just a bit faster though, for as soon as she felt the initial wave of magic begin to consume her, she conjured a magic resistance spell, hoping it would be enough. As the dust cleared, Greywulf saw Aerie lying on the floor, haggard and unconscious, but still alive. Rage fueled Greywulf as he saw the inmates die one after another; he snarled as he hurled spell after spell at Irenicus, only scarce taking time to contain the raw magic within their respective spells. He felt the extreme drain on his reserves as he did so, but it took Irenicus by surprise, not expecting to deal with such an output of energy at once. Each lob was blocked by the magic shielding, but Irenicus found himself being pushed back with each deflection, his feet sliding on the smooth concrete as he struggled to maintain against the assault he faced.

As he continued to push back against Greywulf, the dawning finally came to the powerhouse that was Irenicus: he was overmatched. It was apparent that for all his might, he could not continue against the sheer volume of attacks being hurled his way. With such a strong attack force, he could not leave his shielding unpowered for any length of time, lest he falter. However, he could also not attack more than once every few seconds, meaning that he could not follow up his attacks to finish anybody off. A magic globe pushed Jaheira away, but Minsc finally shook off the stun spell he was under and leapt into the fray once more, his axes pushing and stretching the blue globe of magic that protected Irenicus. Imoen was knocked down by a blast of magic missiles, but Dili redoubled her efforts, lightning surging through the small child's hands and into Irenicus' shields. He struck Aphril with silence, but Aerie arose and resumed the fight, striking his shields again with a scorching fire.

Seeing his shields shrink despite his efforts, Irenicus' face began to show the first sign of fear. It quickly passed though, as he leapt back and away from the swarm of fighters attacking him, giving him new breathing space. It was not to last however, as Greywulf conjured a breach spell that hit Irenicus, the two magic's intermingling and collapsing each other. His shield dropped for one moment, and in that time Imoen's chromatic orb struck, knocking him to the ground. He rolled aside as Minsc's axes landed right where his chest would have been, then dived to the side, just out of Jaheira's spear range. Irenicus quickly got to his feet, though a blackened spot lay on his chest where the orb had struck. He quickly threw up a weak shield just before a disintegrate spell would have hit, though the shield fell with the impact.

Irenicus raised both hands, letting a Meteor Swarm engulf the room, forcing everyone to take cover or die. He screamed in anger and irritation. "Damn you all! Why do I fight over this place when my plans may be laid anywhere? I must start anew! Here! This place is yours! I hope it is your tomb!"

With that, Irenicus summoned a portal, stepping through with one last hateful glance. As he did, the portal closed with a loud noise, silencing suddenly as it culminated in shrinking to one tiny coruscating ball of energy. Greywulf watched it pulse horribly, his eyes widening as he knew what would happen.

"Behind me!" Greywulf shouted, suddenly raising a magical shield... a second too late. His growing protection was outmatched by the sheer volume of energy being flung through the room. It collapsed on itself within seconds and scattered them all, bodies flying like rag dolls in the wind. Greywulf saw the world spin as he twisted through the air, only to have fire burn his insides as he landed chest first against a support pillar, the familiar sound of ribs cracking ringing through his ears. He collapsed to the ground as the wind died away, leaving him barely conscious, but alive nonetheless.

He forced himself to look up, to search through the ruined and battered room for his comrades, desperately hoping they were still alive- he heard a groan from across the room, the sound of someone desperately and terribly in pain. He pulled himself up, shaky on his feet, but determined to see who needed aid. His vision blurred but finally cleared, the sorcerer stumbling to see... Yoshimo lay on his back, a piece of jagged wood impaling his side, the thief's eyes red and his hands clutching his chest. Still, it was painfully apparent that it was not his side that was killing him... it was something else entirely.

"How did it come to this, Yoshimo?" Greywulf murmured, kneeling next to the thief. "How did we get here, unto death?"

"Greywulf…forgive me. I-I'm sorry." Yoshimo choked out, his whole body arching, blood pulsing faster and faster from his side. "You… were always the one I looked to…despite my treachery. I knew you would win… I really did."

Greywulf swallowed, trying not to gag as his saliva and the blood in his mouth went down, the coppery taste not mixing well. "You're dying, Yoshimo. But it's still not too late. Please, you've nothing left to lose, only to gain… do what you know is right."

Yoshimo coughed, then cried, "I… cannot…defy his orders. I was ordered to say nothing of his location… of his plans. Irenicus made certain that if I failed, my only reward… would be eternal torment, n-never able to redeem my honor, even in death. Go… find Saemon Havarian. He… will know of Irenicus' location."

Yoshimo spasmed again, his mouth open as his breaths became shorter and shorter, a trickle of blood coming from his mouth. "N-never... never imagined the geas would... would hurt this much. Killing me... please. End my pain. G-give me an honorable death... honor-"

His words stopped abruptly; he slumped to the ground, his last breath leaving him. Greywulf stood silently, his own breaths coming raspy and rough as he stared at the man he had sworn to kill... the man who had defied a geas in a last-ditch effort to save them. He turned, watching with relief as a pile of rubble fell away, Minsc standing tall with a roar of anger, cuts and wounds covering his massive body. Still, he had shielded some of the others, showing Aerie and Imoen to be safe, while Jaheira and Keldorn were slowly regaining their bearings, clawing their own way out of the rubble. He waited for them to find themselves, all six finally reuniting around him, wounded and exhausted, but alive.

"What happened?" Aerie asked with a grimace. "Did we win?"

Memories flashed through Greywulf's head: Yoshimo swooping in to strike down a troll in the De'Arnise Keep that would have decapitated Greywulf. The thief playing jokes on Minsc, the ranger taking it all in good humor. Keldorn's first encounter with the thief. Yoshimo's oath to be loyal to their cause. His admission of guilt and betrayal... and his admission of defying Irenicus to save them. He looked back at Aerie, "Win? No, we didn't win. We lost Yoshimo."

"He betrayed us, Greywulf." Jaheira said, a grimace of either disgust or pain, probably of both.

"Yeah. I know." Greywulf said, thinking of his final words. "But he was still a friend… to all of us. And that's how I will remember him."

The others remained silent as he walked over to Jaheira, to which she silently began the work of healing. There was silence. They had won… and they had lost. A good man had died. One more name added to the list of friends they had lost, one more to the souls Irenicus had destroyed, one more reason for Irenicus to be stopped.


	59. Part 2: A Friendship in Ruins

It was never supposed to have been this way. Never. A good kid, people called him. At least, those who didn't know. Perhaps that was why those certain monks like Tethoril and Val Hurst were always so hard on him... they knew the truth behind the smiles and the laughter. Playful, witty... charismatic. People wanted to like him. Deep in the recesses of his half conscious mind, Greywulf wondered if the same had ever been said of Sarevok, the eventual leader of the Iron Throne when growing up... 'Charismatic, people wanted to like him...'

Not like this. Not now. Who was he, really? He wasn't that same boy Gorion had been proud to introduce to the visiting monks or scholars at Candlekeep. That part of him had died the moment Gorion had died. He wasn't the scared yet idealistic adventurer when first setting out on the road with just Imoen at his side... that had died when his hand had slain the first of so many assassins that hunted him. He wasn't the blossoming leader who worked so hard for the approval of his mentors and friends... that man had been laid to rest through victory after victory against Sarevok.

Who was he? He didn't really know anymore... but it was all a moot point as he felt his mind tumbling through darkness, finally coming to some semblance of awareness. Greywulf's thoughts blazed with fire, shocking him awake most painfully. He looked around, his vision blurred but rapidly clearing. He looked about, felt the haziness of everything he saw, felt and heard, and knew where he was, another dream of his spirit's making... perhaps trying to answer his question?

The fortress of Candlekeep was once again before him, still hazed out with different parts of the walls filled with fire and water, stars and lights shining in the void. He stepped forward to find the purpose of this dream, and before he could go much further, a figure blocked his path; the figure of his sister, Imoen. He was pleased to see her, any familiar face in this world of shadows and darkness... but he immediately found something was wrong. Last time his visions had included her, she had represented his soul, the human part of him, a buoy of hope against the taint of his blood.

This time, she radiated nothing if not darkness. Her smile was not kindly, more so malevolent. Her posture was relaxed but in a mocking way, as though she knew the depths of Greywulf's soul and laughed at the weakness, the frailty she found there. She sneered at Greywulf as he drew closer and said, "You came too late. Didn't I say you would come too late? You will learn to trust me. Don't be afraid. You are safe here… if you behave."

Safe? Greywulf shook his head, the word and concept foreign and odd-sounding. She took notice of his hesitation, of his seeming inability to comprehend the simple word. She laughed again, the expression on her face showing just how much she was enjoying herself. It was a most unpleasant laugh; a dark contrast to the usual cheer and joy in his sister's voice. She continued on, "I will show you what fills the void. What is now… free."

Flashes, images filled his mind. A cage... the bars twisted and torn open from the inside out... glass shards broken and littering an endless void. They stopped, giving him clarity and freedom of control once more; Greywulf shook his head vehemently once more, still denying the darkness before him. "You are not Imoen. You are but a shade, a specter of my taint who tries to poison my thoughts. I will not listen to your lies."

Imoen seemed not to notice his words, but stepped forward and began circling him slowly, her eyes never leaving him as she whispered slyly, "I lurk behind your soul, in the very fiber of your being. I am the only thing left when mind and reason are stripped away. I will show you what you can be, what you can do… if you simply let yourself become what you are. I can show you all this, because I am within. I am what fills the void. I am you."

The words Bhaal had uttered when Greywulf had been under Irenicus' spell echoed in his mind, ringing familiar to Imoen's words. The world strobed again, and screams of tortured souls drowned out the thunderous drumming of blood that pulsed within- visions of a throne seated amongst darkness, once held in honor and respect but now covered with blood and shadow, human skulls adorning the back of it- his eyes widened as Imoen appeared inches away from his face, the whites of her eyes turning black as she leaned over to his ear, whispering quietly. "I'll show you a bite."

She stepped back, raising both hands to her sides, palms up and outstretched. Her soft laughter was replaced by deep throaty bellows, like that of Sarevok or Bhaal. She vanished under a hail of red rain, the swirling magic of Murder coming together in a whirlwind to form the grisly avatar of blood that had come before. The Slayer raised its four arms, squatted down and thrust them out wide, shrieking madly. The sound brought pain, pure and simple; Greywulf covered his ears in torment as it continued its howlings. The great red and black scaled beast let its lips stretch back, sticky black saliva dripping in long strands from its mouth as it turned, presenting a side profile to Greywulf... just before leaping at him.

He was taken completely by surprise; there was no way he could have dodged, weaved a counterspell of any kind; he was dead before he knew it. If the Slayer had been aiming for him. It was a blur as it shot over his head, landing behind him. Greywulf turned, his blood freezing as he saw what had been behind him- protected by him- the whole time. His five companions, or at the very least visions of them stood, unwavering and unmoving. Their features were exact, their bodies flawless and as lifelike as any real human could be. And as the Slayer's guttural laugh filled the void, Greywulf knew what would come.

He shut his eyes tight, feeling warm tears drip from them as he listened to the tearing flesh, the rending bones, and the splatter of blood as it covered the ground around them. It seemed to go on forever... but like a breath of fresh air, it ceased. The torment stopped, and for a brief second, he dared to let himself believe it was all over. It wasn't. The putrid smell of rotting meat filled his nostrils as a blast of steam covered his face. He opened his eyes to see the demonic visage of the Slayer leering over him, mouth quivering as though it yearned to open wide and devour him at any second. He looked it in the eyes- wanted to run, wanted to hide, get away from the beast- he stood firm, refusing to budge. This... this was him, now. He knew the answer to his question. This was his form, his nature... and to fight one's nature was folly. Greywulf reached one hand out slowly, moving to touch the red-hot scales of the Slayer... it sizzled, his fingers burning as he brushed them across the Slayer. The pain was good, it gripped him, shocking him awake and in control. No. He would not accept it so willingly.

He would not let the senseless violence he had just seen become reality. He looked up at the Slayer again, a growl of defiance crossing his features- he spat in the demon's face, eyes narrow and dark.

If it were possible for a demon to look offended, it happened. The Slayer took a step back, fading into the ether around them. Any hopes he might have had of remaining alone were dashed, however; Imoen replaced the Slayer quickly enough. Blood covered her hands, a mocking echo of the vision he had seen when first captured by Irenicus. She walked over to Greywulf and took him by the wrists, drawing him close. "You are to be given a gift. It is a valuable prize, one that you had better appreciate. You worry for your comrades perhaps? Leave them, abandon them, and become what you must. There is great power in your heritage. Use it, and you will become closer to who you are… what you could be."

Waves of dizziness and fatigue began to overwhelm him; her words were like honey, like the very nectar of the gods to his ears. He wanted so very badly to believe them, to believe her... and to a point, he did. His gifts would bring him power. Bring him anything he desired. Anything he wanted... but nothing that he needed. His voice was a slur, badly distorted in his own hearing, but he still managed to speak. "No... get away from me... devil-"

"Feel what is in the void. Use the tools that you are given. Become part of something greater." Imoen laughed, turning from him and raising her arms high.

Before him flashed another vision, this time of a grandiose hall, filled with layers and layers of pedestals. They stacked higher than his eyes could make out, but he found himself floating, rising upward without willing it. Figures, stone statues of men and women filled the pedestals, faces he did not recognize. Not all the pedestals were filled though; some had rubble dwelling within, nothing but rock and dirt. He frowned as he floated closer to one in particular- his eyes widened as he saw a large chunk of rock lying within- it was the head of Sarevok, still clad in the Bhaal helmet he had worn in battle. He looked around, to the right and left of Sarevok- Imoen, and himself. Statues of the Children. Those who yet lived, and those who had passed beyond. Part of something... greater.

It vanished, and Imoen leaned close again, her tongue flitting out to anoint the tip of his pointed ear as she continued her dark enticements. "I am in you, and I know what is best. Each time you use it, each time you accept it, you move a little closer to the evil within. Perhaps you lose yourself in the end, but you will go to a greater reward than you can know. After all, what does an eternity of nothingness matter when you can destroy all who would oppose your development as easy as, One."

A figure of Sarevok appeared before him. It splintered with black tendrils of darkness coming from within, falling to pieces before him.

Imoen smiled and continued, "Two."

A statue of Bodhi appeared. The vampire woman followed as Sarevok had, falling to a force of evil greater than her own.

"Three."

Irenicus, the mage whose spells overmatched anybody else he had seen, shattered under the crushing power of the icy darkness overtaking the whole area.

"Four."

This time Imoen stepped forward, and turned to stone before Greywulf's eyes. The same darkness slid up from beneath her and covered the statue, slowly squeezing until Imoen was gone as well. Greywulf was alone, and a voice echoed from all around, "Five!"

With that count, Greywulf saw the darkness come again, this time coming for him. He tried to struggle, but a tendril of the dark force wrapped around each limb, slowly slithering over him. It began choking him, leaving him breathless and collapsing, finally being surrounded and covered over by the evil surrounding him. He felt like he would suffocate, that whatever game his mind was playing had forced itself upon his physical body too- but his mind pulsed once more and suddenly, it was gone. A new void surrounded him, a wasteland of dust and desert surrounded him, wind stinging him with flying sand in the caverns of his mind. The sun was high and beating down upon him as he tried to make some sense of his surroundings.

He was able to move, unlike some of his past visions, and so he started moving through the wilderness, looking for his friends, anything familiar. Shadows suddenly began to blur in front of him, collecting from the ground as the sun dimmed above him. He backed up, clutching for the familiar feel of his staff, but found himself unarmed, his weapon nowhere to be found. He reached inside for his magic instead, pulling its comforting presence over him in protection; he watched as the darkness, fluid like in nature, swirled together to become something… familiar, if not what he had desired. Claws and scales, red and black sheens over the skin, spines and teeth slathered together in a fury of death and evil, the full power of the Slayer stood before Greywulf, the two pieces of the whole body facing one another. The monstrosity before him gave what could be construed as a smile, the beast approaching Greywulf.

_**"I AM AWAKENED, VESSEL." **_The Slayer's mouth did not open, but the guttural, death like voice resonated inside his mind anyway. _**"YOUR SOUL IS GONE… I AM ALL THAT YOU HAVE LEFT. EMBRACE ME, AND WE SHALL RULE THIS REALM AS THE LORD OF MURDER!"**_

"No." Greywulf could barely summon the words to speak, his breath caught in his throat... but he could do nothing else. To give into this monster was not an option. To back down would mean death for himself, his friends... everyone. "I don't... don't want it. Never wanted it."

_**"BUT YOU WANT REVENGE, YES? YOU WANT THE BLOOD OF THE MAGE WHO HAS DONE THIS TO YOU, HMM?" **_The Slayer hunched over slightly as it talked, its needle like teeth clicking together in what seemed an amused fashion. _**"RELEASE ME… YOU KNOW HOW TO DO SO NOW. RELEASE YOUR WILL TO ME, AND YOUR ENEMIES WILL FALL! DO YOU REMEMBER HOW QUICKLY THE VAMPIRE FLED YOUR WRATH? THE MAGE WOULD DIE JUST AS EASILY!"**_

"And would your bloodlust be sated after Irenicus died?" he exhaled, raising one hand to ward off the beast before him. "I think not. My friends would die just as quickly at your hands; I swear that will not happen."

_**"YOUR FOLLOWERS? IF IT CONCERNS YOU SO, THEN WE SHALL SPARE THEM. THEY CAN SERVE A PURPOSE AS OUR MINIONS; THE HANDS OF BHAAL. I AM NOT WITHOUT REASON OR COOPERATION... AFTER ALL, WE ARE TO BE ONE, IN THE END. STILL, THE ONE YOU CALL IMOEN… SHE MUST DIE, EVENTUALLY." **_The Slayer seemed to weigh the possibility of his friends as followers, nodding in acquiescence, though its contempt was easily spotted in mentioning Imoen. _**"SHE IS A BHAALSPAWN AS WELL, IF A PATHETIC EXCUSE FOR ONE. WHILE SHE LIVES, SHE IS A THREAT TO OUR RULE."**_

"Somebody else had that same idea once. A guy named Sarevok, if you remember. I'm sure you remember what happened to him too." Greywulf snarled, anger growing at the audacity, the mindless killing the Slayer desired.

_**"HAHAHA… OF COURSE I REMEMBER. I WAS THERE. WE KILLED HIM TOGETHER, YOU AND I. I FED YOUR POWER, YOU STRUCK HIM AGAIN AND AGAIN IN THE HATRED, THE BLOODLUST I PROVIDED… AND YOU KNOW WE LOVED IT."**_

"You loved it… I did what was necessary, that's all."

_**"REALLY?" **_The Slayer's tone grew a sense of amusement as the piercing black orbs of its eyes bored into Greywulf's returning glare. _**"AS YOUR… FRIENDS… WILL DO WHAT IS NECESSARY?"**_

The Slayer raised one claw, a swirling mist forming a vision before him. The voices of Jaheira and Keldorn suddenly echoed from the mist; the words he had not heard… the Slayer had.

_If the taint claims him, and he becomes the Slayer for good… how far are we willing to go? What are you willing to do to stop him, if it comes down to it?_

_You and I… we will do what needs to be done._

_**"THEY INTEND TO MURDER YOU! THEY DESERVE MY WRATH, THE FURY ONLY I CAN UNLEASH! MERELY GIVE ME CONTROL FOR A MOMENT, AND YOU WILL NEVER NEED WORRY OF THEIR TREACHERY AGAIN."**_

"You just don't get it…" Greywulf growled, his eyes closed as he tried to center himself, to focus his will on keeping the monster before him at bay. "If I ever let you loose on this world… if I let you be the one in control… I would ask nothing less of them. All of them."

_**"YOU… WOULD DIE, RATHER THAN TAKE OUR BIRTHRIGHT? GIVE UP THE POWER OF OUR SIRE? YOU ARE A FOOL! I WILL NOT WAIT FOR YOU TO GIVE ME CONTROL! I WILL SIMPLY TAKE IT!" **_The Slayer howled, apparently weary of Greywulf's constant resistance to its temptations.

It charged at full speed, covering the ground between them in seconds, but Greywulf was quick as well, focusing on the real battle at hand. Physically, he was obviously overmatched… but this was in his body, in his mind. A battle of wills that if he failed now- it would give the Slayer such a foothold he might never regain control. His hands shot out to grab the Slayer's outstretched claws, holding them back. The beast writhed in his grip, pushing forward harder and harder, but Greywulf was relentless, every ounce of mental strength he felt fighting back. After what seemed like an eternity, the Slayer stopped its push, relaxing. Greywulf released as well, the two standing face to face, the wizard looking up at the snarling demon he carried within.

"I think I finally realize your weakness." Greywulf said, allowing himself a hint of a satisfied smile. "You're not powerful enough, are you? You can't just strong-arm me like before. I have to give into you. I have to hand over the control willingly... and since you _are _me... you know I'll never do it. In the end, your power is nothing without my own, and you can't take me alone."

The Slayer leaned over, letting the skin of its mouth slide back so its teeth were visible in a gruesome smile. _**"NOT YET. MY POWER WILL DO NOTHING BUT GROW AS TIME PASSES. DO WHAT YOU MUST WITHOUT ME. FOR NOW. BUT KNOW THIS… I AM WITHIN YOU. I AM THE DULL ACHE, THE HUNGER INSIDE YOU THAT WILL NEVER BE SATED. YOU WILL NEVER BE RID OF ME- ONE DAY, YOU WILL CRY OUT FOR MY AID… AND I WILL ANSWER. YOU WILL LEARN."**_

The beast faded into the very shadows it had formed from, dissipating with the wind. It was not so easy in reality though. The Slayer was indeed part of him, and would continue to be so until the taint was completely removed from his blood. He would have to learn to… coexist with the Slayer, as ridiculous as the idea sounded. The small twinges of bloodlust he had in battle would grow fiercer, more insistent as the little voice inside took on the bass tone of the Slayer. As the world around him faded once more, the visions he had just had danced through his mind a final time, before an explosion of light and sound went off inside his head. He was awake.

His whole body jolted as he sat up, breath heaving from his lungs as he looked left and right, trying to assure himself they were safe- a firm hand took his shoulder, forcing him to look up. Minsc's concerned face was no small comfort to the sorcerer, the ranger raising one finger as he gestured to the others, still asleep. Greywulf suddenly remembered the schedule they had decided upon after their battle with Irenicus. A solid eight hours, changing of shifts every hour and a half. Minsc was supposed to be the second of the watchmen... he had only slept for two hours. It felt like he'd been through a lifetime's worth of exhaustion after the dreams... he pulled himself to his feet and followed the ranger away from the makeshift cots they had made in the rubble strewn room where they had battled the wizard.

"Greywulf... your shift is not for several hours." Minsc noted quietly. "You should return to your rest. We will need it if we are to find the untrustworthy pirate in the morning! Worry not, for Minsc and Boo will guard you without fail!"

"Like I said in the morning, or whatever time it was, I think he'll find us." Greywulf replied, his heartbeat slowing as he quieted, mind and body. "And it's not worry about Saemon that's keeping me up, Minsc; it's something entirely... different."

"Do you want to discuss it with us?" Minsc offered, seating himself upon a pile of debris just outside the room so their companions would not hear their conversation, despite their hushed tones.

The sorcerer looked at the ranger, opened his mouth to speak- and hesitated. Minsc was his friend. His companion. Loyal to a fault, willing to sacrifice anything for what he believed in. He couldn't ask for a better confidant. But something still held him back. It wasn't that he didn't trust the ranger... he did. But he thought of the Slayer's words. It's fury at Keldorn and Jaheira for their intentions should he release the Slayer upon Faerun. It heard everything he heard, saw everything he saw... and every moment he spoke with Minsc about the taint, hardened the ranger against the Slayer... it painted a bigger target on the Rashemani's chest.

Greywulf's mouth closed, his eyes dropping with a mixture of shame and sadness. "No... no, I guess not, Minsc. This is something I have to work through on my own. I appreciate the offer... but you had better return to your post."

Minsc listened, then nodded without speaking. He exhaled, pushed the scabbard back behind him that held the Blade of Chaos, and turned towards the doorway- a figure was already there, her green eyes boring into the two of them as Minsc halted.

Jaheira was only wearing her leathers and holding her spear, her armor still by her gear, but she looked more than ready to perform guard duty. "Don't bother, Minsc... you might as well take your rest now. My shift was next and I could sleep no longer with your voices echoing so far."

The ranger looked slightly embarrassed, but he nodded to Greywulf and gave Jaheira a friendly squeeze of the shoulder before he lumbered back into the room. The two remaining party members regarded each other for a moment longer, the awkward silence finally getting the best of Greywulf as he rubbed the back of his neck with one hand, offering the other in an apologetic manner to Jaheira. "Sorry about waking you up- no reason for the others to suffer because of my own insomnia."

"Think nothing of it." she replied brusquely, ignoring his hand as she stepped past him into the main hall, glancing left and right once to ensure there was no danger approaching unseen. "I was getting little sleep anyway. I sometimes wonder why Aerie chooses human sleep instead of the elven reverie."

"I asked her once..." Greywulf murmured, glancing in the room to the slowly falling and rising form of the petite elf. "She said there were enough memories she wanted to forget instead of relive night after night... it wasn't worth it. Not to her."

"We all have memories we would like to bury." Jaheira remarked, a hint of irritation in her voice as she arched her neck both ways, a small crackle testifying to the stiffness she still felt this early. "It does not mean we get the right to do so."

"Fair enough." Greywulf shrugged. "Still, why was your sleep so troubled? Minsc and I had only begun talking a few minutes ago-"

"Not everything is about you, as much you think it so." she cut him off, her cutting wit just a tad rougher this morning. "Besides... it is nothing. Something I must work out for myself."

Hearing his words, spoken just moments previous to Minsc, now coming from Jaheira's mouth made him intolerably curious... but he knew the reasons why he had said them. He knew the struggle he fought. How could he demand anything more of Jaheira than what he allowed himself? It was not his place. He nodded, turning to the side, avoiding facing her directly. "I will not press further, then. Still, if you need someone to talk to... well, you know from past experience that I am always willing to listen."

She regarded him for a moment from the edge of her vision; her eyes dropped as she shifted, the frame of her body moving away from facing him. "I know... but perhaps it might have been a mis- no. Never mind."

Her words were enough for Greywulf to catch them- he turned with a frown. "A mistake? Is that what you were about to say? What do you mean?"

"I meant nothing." she said, her steel and resolve rising once more, the chink in her armor gone. "You are right. In the past, we two... we shared many moments of comfort, words which helped and healed... but I see now it was too much. I allowed us to get too close- a mistake I shall not make again."

"Too close?" Greywulf leaned over, his eyes narrow in confusion and growing indignation. Hearing her refer to the small bits of pieces of life that they had bared and exposed to each other, letting one another attempt to heal and soothe, whether they wanted it or not... hearing her speak of them as nothing more than a mistake, an error in judgment that needed to be swept under the rug like an embarrassing secret was enough to raise his ire. "Mind explaining to me what that means? I thought we were helping each other through some pretty damn difficult parts of our lives. In case you don't remember, these last few months have been rough on both of us."

She glared, his face calming a bit under the weight of her stare. "I remember. And I thank you for what you helped me through... but I should never have let it get that far. We are companions, I am your mentor, if you still wish me in that role... and no more."

"That's it." he said, disbelief crossing his face. "Nothing more? The word friends wasn't in there, I note... what is going on here, Jaheira?"

"Nothing!" she slammed the butt of her spear down, frustration flashing over her exotic features. "Let me ask you a question, Greywulf. We have hunted that madman for over four months now. He escaped us, leaving you and Imoen soulless and another two added to his body count. How did that last battle make you feel? Did it anger you, frustrate you... did you enjoy it?"

"Enjoy it?" Greywulf tried to make sense of the query, but she was insistent, her foot on the verge of tapping with impatience. "No more than the next battle; I do what must be done... just like you and Keldorn do, apparently."

If the subtle reference to her conversation with Keldorn about him affected her, she did not show it. She shook her head, still unsatisfied. "No. Not what you did. How you felt... what were you thinking?"

"What I was thinking about was keeping my friends safe!" Greywulf snapped, no longer to banter veiled taunts or insinuations; he took two steps forward, closing the distance between them. "I was thinking about reclaiming my soul and Imoen's so we both don't rot away under some curse! I was thinking about avenging Dynaheir and Khalid! I was thinking that maybe we might all come out of it in one piece if I didn't screw up! What were you thinking about, hmm? How I might turn into a four armed demon at any moment and kill everyone, right?"

"And what did you expect my thoughts to dwell upon? How fortunate we are to have such a grand and kind leader as you?" Jaheira retorted, her voice icy and low with anger. "You nearly killed me, Greywulf. You nearly killed us all, am I supposed to forget that on a whim?!"

"Oh please!" he ridiculed angrily. "And you've never been under a Domination spell, or a Dire Charm-"

"No! No, that is not the same thing and you know it!" she shouted, all regard for the sleep of their companions gone as their angry voices echoed up and down the halls. "You are a danger to everyone here and I cannot, will not ignore that fact!"

She turned on her heel and began to stalk away, back down the hall, but Greywulf followed her staying right with her, his frustration and anger almost matching her own legendary temper. "So what you're saying is you don't trust me, right? Go ahead; if you don't, at least have the courage to say it to my face!"

"You want an admission?" she hissed, whirling back to face him, the brown braids of her hair flying between them. "Fine. I do not trust you! Not now. Not after what has come."

"Right." he growled in disgust, turning to slam one clenched fist into the wall beside him, his head bowed and shaking. "Weren't you the one who chose to follow me? Didn't you say that you were proud to fight beside me again? Was that all a load of bull to keep me happy and content? You had your chances to get out, and I wouldn't have blamed you then- I gave you the choice. I never forced you to stay with me. It was always your choice!"

"And that's the damnable thing of it all." she snarled. "That I might've let my feelings for... about you cloud my judgment. I will not allow that to happen again. Until your soul is returned-"

"I'm on your hit list, is that it?" he cut her off, shaking his finger. "Oh no. You don't get to sit on high in your almighty wisdom and pass judgment on me like this! If you wanted to do that, you should have joined your friend Galvarey and his cronies. You'd have fit right in the way you're talking right now!"

"I am nothing like Galvarey!" she spat, her fury rising at the comparison. "He was no Harper-"

"And according to what you said to Dermin, neither are you." Greywulf finished... immediately realizing he had said the wrong thing as her fist smashed into the side of his face, sending him stumbling back a few feet. He touched the side of his face gingerly, doing his absolute best to suppress the urge to strike back. He had to let it go with one punch- she most certainly wouldn't if he retaliated.

He sighed, trying to calm his temper, averting his eyes from the look of sheer outrage, suppressed but oh-so-visible on her face. "All right... that was a low blow. But every choice you made led you to this point. I will not be held responsible for that."

"No. You should not be. I am responsible, as you say." she said coldly, her fist unclenching with her own exhaled breath. "And I will make amends. Now get back to the group- neither of us needs to see one another right now."

Her abrupt termination of the conversation left Greywulf without a reply; she had already turned her back and begun patrol again, before Greywulf called out once more, desperately trying to salvage something... anything from all this- "Jaheira... are we... are we still friends?"

She turned back and met his gaze for a moment, hesitating as though to say something... but she turned and left, remaining silent as she turned the corner, out of sight; it was a clear enough answer for him, standing alone once more. Around him, the darkness grew.


	60. Part 2: Crisis of Faith

Silent as the dead... that was somehow quite the fitting analogy. Stepping over a small pile of stones littered amidst the rubble of the room, ensuring there was not a sound made as he made his way closer and closer- he froze as one of them rolled over, her face contorting into a frown and a sleepy mumble as she curled up tighter. He waited another seemingly endless breadth of seconds before he took another step closer, his target finally coming into sight, barely visible in the dusty and low light, but unmistakable to his trained eyes.

Not that an adventuring bag was all that hard to miss; all one had to do was look for the burn marks, the numerous re-stitchings and patchwork fabric from so many repairs and close scrapes. Of course, it would be on the other side of the sleeping sorcerer. It could be worse, the creeping figure reflected; he could have been one of those paranoid adventurers who slept using their pack as their pillow. He bit his lip as he silently stepped over the first of the sleeping party members- a raucous snore coming from the big man nearly caused him to lose his precarious balance; he winced, privately wondering how the others managed any rest at all with the nightly noises. Regardless, he pulled the other leg up and over the ranger's rising and falling chest, safely tucked between two very powerful and very deadly-hopefully very asleep- adventurers.

He liked to think they wouldn't kill him if they caught him doing this; they did seem to be some of the more levelheaded sorts he had ever worked with before. Still, he didn't really care to find out. He sidestepped the head of the elf cleric, quickly darting past her and her belongings, putting himself just a scant few feet from his target. No problem for the experienced thief... he froze as the sorcerer turned over, one hand swinging out to rest on his booted foot.

He bit back a curse as he knelt down very slowly and very carefully, his only half-trembling hands coming down to gently pick up the half-elf's hand and slide a nearby rock under it as he deftly swept his foot away. The transition was smooth and flawless; the sleeping man never noticed a thing. Breathing a sigh of relief, the intruder stood up and quickly moved to the bag he had been working himself towards the whole time, finally within his grasp. He knelt beside it, slipping the clasp open so he could access the insides. Even as he slid one hand inside, the sound of a terrifically unimpressed sigh, tinted with disapproval and an 'I-knew-this-would-happen' sound caught his ear, far too loud for the work he was trying to engage in at the moment. Too late, he noticed the bedding one space over from Greywulf's... was empty.

"Saemon Havarian... need I ask what you are doing, or should I demand our belongings back now without the extra hassle?"

Keldorn had not bothered to unsheathe the Hallowed Redeemer as he leaned against the doorframe, watching Saemon slowly stand, turning to face the paladin with a sheepish grin. "Oh! Hello there, Keldorn, aye? Surely you don't think ol' Saemon was doing anything untoward-"

"Just shut up, okay?" Greywulf scowled as he pulled himself up, "You're already on my not-so-favorite list; keep on spouting trash and I'll have to do something about it."

"My... somebody's in a foul mood, eh?" Saemon arched one eyebrow as the rest of the party rose from their bedding, glares ranging from anger to mild irritation being shot his direction. "I'd have thought ye'd be celebrating your victory... of course he did escape, but I'm sure you're hot on his trail already, eh?"

"Imoen, check him." Greywulf ignored the man's comment, nodding to his sister as she stepped over, rifling through his pockets and pack in search of anything he had pilfered from their packs whilst asleep. Saemon shrugged and raised his arms, allowing her free access to his belongings as she searched, Keldorn making his way to the others with a quick nod to Greywulf. "He only had your pack open for a few seconds and I didn't see him take anything-"

"But you can never be too careful. Right." Greywulf finished, running one hand down his face in an attempt to clear the sleep from his head. No, not entirely. More of an attempt to get rid of the pounding anger and frustration that still filled his throat and head after his words with Jaheira last night. He made a half-glance in her direction; if she saw him do it... and he knew that she did, she did not acknowledge it. He tried to calm himself, tried to shake it off and summon the usual cheer and nonchalance he carried... but he couldn't. Not this time. This was different- important- and she still refused to acknowledge him. Fine. If that's the way it was going to be... he would deal with it, and her.

Imoen exhaled, turning back to Greywulf with hands empty. "Nothing that belonged to us, anyway."

"See? If you can't trust your good friend Saemon, who can you trust?" the swashbuckler shrugged with a grin.

"You're not our friend." Greywulf said stonily. "And the only reason we haven't throttled your lying neck already is for helping us out with the inmates. Now, we were told you could help us get to Irenicus. I assume this is why you sought us out, correct?"

Saemon shrugged then said, "That about sums it up. You may still distrust me, but believe me when I say my 'employment' to Bodhi was not worth the paltry sum she gave me for payment. I would rather this place open for looting… after pursuing Irenicus and my former mistress, of course. She has no doubt fled with her 'brother' and master, leaving me to deal with the mess they have abandoned. There is no profit in this for the likes of me. Besides, I know a little of his plans through a peek or two at his journal. It's little enough, but I figure we're all in trouble if he isn't stopped."

"Not that we've given him all that much time to explain himself, but between battles and tortures he's proven rather tightlipped." Greywulf pointed out.

"No doubt he feels a villain is always undone in the exposition. I cannot say I blame him. I have many a dead friend that boasted when silence would have served. From what I saw of his journal and from overhearing chats with Bodhi, I know his destination to be an elven city in the Forest of Tethyr… Suldenesselar." Havarian said ominously. "What he plans on doing there, exactly, I don't know, but he seems to expect to become more powerful than anything… than the gods even, and that can't be good. So I will offer my service to you, in the hopes that we can benefit one another. I'm sure you can understand the motives of self-preservation."

"Until a better offer comes up, right?" Keldorn growled. "That's the way you work. Dealing with you is abhorrent to me."

"Different strokes…" Saemon shrugged. "Still, presuming you still wish my help, I have much to tell you. Of course I would not impose this upon you without a proper offering of peace; let me first inform you of the ways you may escape this place. Irenicus left by a magic portal… it could be trapped, and it may even lead into the Underdark. Not a safe place to go by any stretch of the imagination. He sealed the doors, but I think I can get us to the surface. I suggest we go back to my ship. I know where he's actually headed… we may even cut him off."

"The Underdark?" Aerie asked, her mouth suddenly growing dry.

"That's right." Saemon said almost apologetically. "If you want Irenicus, you're going to have to get down there, one way or another. The portal is still open when I checked, if you're truly set on following him like dogs to a bone. However, I really have no idea where that portal leads. It could lead right into the middle of a drow war camp, and we don't want that, do we?"

"Why the Underdark? For what possible reason would he go to that god-forsaken place?" Jaheira questioned, her tone dark and belying the nervousness and fear everyone felt at the mere prospect of pursuing their foe into such territory.

"Can you comprehend the mind of those maddened with power and hatred?" Havarian queried in reply, his tone rising to deflect any further questioning of his knowledge regarding the plans of their foe.

"This all seems _very_ convenient. What's the catch?" Aerie asked, her suspicion speaking for all of them.

"There are no secret conditions on my help. I merely seek your friendship, or at least your pardon. I require allies if I am to survive. So it's really your decision… take the portal or trust me."

His words were met with silence; he sighed in exasperation, then dropped his pack, rummaging through it before them. "I can see you still have problems trusting me; perhaps a small taste of the reward Irenicus gave me will change your minds."

The swashbuckler pulled a pair of gauntlets from the bag, displaying them with more than a hint of admiration, before tossing them to Keldorn. "Here ye go. I think ye'll find the most use from them, aye? Not to impugn upon your skill, just stating the facts."

Keldorn frowned, before his eyes opened wide, understanding what the proffered gauntlets were. "You claim these are Bracers of Dexterity; only a dozen of these were ever crafted..."

Aerie took them from his hands and waved her hand over the top, her brow knit as she magically identified the items, trying to sense any traps or curses upon the gloves- she shook her head, handing them back. "No traps or tricks... they're what he says they are."

Jaheira growled, stepping forward to poke Saemon in the chest, the man rubbing the spot gingerly. "Gifts or no, I do not trust you. You are nothing more than a viper, waiting to strike when our backs are turned. Even the darkest portal is clearer than your intentions."

"What, you don't trust him? There's a huge surprise." Greywulf said, her glare immediately flashing to him, the two refusing to back down. She did not speak but finally stepped away, though the wariness and anger in her eyes did not leave. Saemon brushed off his coat, then turned to Greywulf expectantly. The sorcerer was silent for a few more seconds, then nodded. "Fine. We'll trust you... for the moment. If this turns out to be another trick, I don't mind saying you won't live to regret it."

"Oh, don't worry about me. A sensible choice you've made, to be sure. Allow me to use my magics to penetrate Irenicus' wards, and then teleport us to surface and sun." Saemon said with a smile. "Just gather your things, and we'll be off."

Slowly, reluctantly the group turned away from Saemon and began the small but tedious chore of picking up what meager belongings they had unpacked whilst waiting for him to arrive; Imoen came to his side, elbowing him a little harder than he would have liked. "Er... yes, Imoen, is it? I believe I've seen you around this asylum from time to time... though you were kept somewhat occupied by Irenicus."

"Right." she snorted, adjusting the weight of the quiver on her back as she fingered the shaft of her bow. "Just hold up your end of all this and we won't have to kill you, 'kay?"

"Never fear; ol' Saemon never goes back on a promise, aye?" he grinned, though it slowly faltered under her glare. "Ahem... yes. Er, is it just me, or does your fearless leader seem a bit... crankier, than when I spoke with him last?"

Imoen's mind drifted back to the events of the night; the sounds of Greywulf and Jaheira screaming at each other... the hostility so thick it was still palpable. They'd had their arguments before... but nothing like this. This one might be- it was serious. It might have done damage that could not be undone... could have hurt them all. If one of the most tightly knit bonds in the group could be broken so easily, what else was possible? How many other relationships and friendships would be shattered before Irenicus was dead and their souls restored? She shuddered at the memory, turning back to Saemon- "No. He's just tired, that's all. Just tired."

X X X X X X X

Irenicus and Bodhi strode across the dark cavern rock beneath their feet, traversing the darkness of the Underdark. A new confidence was in their step, new strength and vigor. Despite their 'defeat,' at Spellhold, Irenicus was not worried. The spell trap he had ignited was more than enough to kill everyone in the room, including the mad inmates Greywulf had released. They would certainly have been killed, though Greywulf and his followers might have had sense enough to shield themselves from death. It didn't matter in the end; Greywulf could follow and be killed in the depths of the Underdark, or he could rot away under the curse of the Seldarine. No matter what, he was no longer a factor. Lost in his reverie, Bodhi's voice interrupted as she hissed, "We have arrived, brother."

He looked up to see the black metal gates of the drow city Ust Natha stretch before him. He sneered, not because he was unhappy, but because it was one of the few expressions of emotion he was still capable of. As they drew closer, they were stopped by a small group of drow warriors and clerics, who snarled out instructions in their dark tongue, knowing the two surfacers yet still hostile to their presence. Irenicus briefly considered killing them all for their insolence, but restrained himself. The alliance he had made with the drow was shaky enough without him attacking their 'ambassadors.' He answered them back, and the drow turned and led them inside the city.

As the black gates opened and closed, Irenicus' thoughts were still consumed by the one thing he had desired for so many years now. It was drawing close now, so close. Revenge, and power. Almost within his grasp. Only days now, a few weeks at most. Then, he would have it, he would finish what he started so long ago. Bodhi glanced at him, almost as though reading his thoughts, to which she whispered, "You are close, brother. Your magics are strong, they will not be able to resist."

"No. No they will not." he answered. "They will learn the cost of their hypocrisy. I shall have my vengeance, and nobody shall be able to stop me, not Ellesime, not the silver one, and certainly not Greywulf. All goes as I had predicted."

Bodhi laughed as she glanced at the large orb of magic Irenicus held, and the small, brownish ovals that rested so delicately inside…

X X X X X X X

The blinding flash of light left them all half-blind, blinking madly as the smell of salt and the sound of gulls in the island air hit their senses. Saemon had proven good on his word so far; they were free, standing on the far border of the road leading to the asylum and just outside of Brynnlaw's walls. Saemon exhaled as he gazed out towards the glassy sea, calm and still in the afternoon sun. He turned to the others, raising his arms as though presenting the freedom of the world behind him. "Ahh... ye six smell that? That's the free air and no mistake. A right pleasure it is to be out of that dungeon, isn't it? And to be away from that madman Irenicus for a spell, I would presume."

Imoen's face blossomed as she took in the sights and sounds, her grin widening as she turned, almost spinning in merriment. Saemon watched her with a smile, sticking one thumb at her with a grin as he spoke. "Looks like she's enjoying it. How long's it been since you seen the outside world, Imoen?"

"Four months. Four, long, unbearable months and I'm finally-" Imoen cut herself off, breaking out into laughter as she gazed up at the skies, her eyes glistening with delight. "You have no IDEA how good this feels, any of you!"

"Boo likes the out of doors better than the cold, clammy insides of the castles or crazy asylums too." Minsc grinned, stepping over to Imoen as she spun in place, inhaling and exhaling deeply. "Minsc would dance and spin as you do as well... but Boo would get sick, and then Minsc would have to clean his trousers again."

The thief-mage barked a laugh and launched herself at Minsc, embracing him as the ranger patted her on the back. Keldorn flexed one hand, glancing down at the Bracers of Dexterity he was wearing, a wry smile crossing his own noble features. "Perhaps not, Imoen... though experiencing the vitality of youth once again at my age is no small blessing. A good outcome for everyone, I think."

A silent glance from Greywulf towards Jaheira transpired between them before their leader turned back to Saemon, nodding grimly. "This is all well and fine, but we still have to catch Irenicus. When can we set sail?"

Saemon's smiling face twitched; Jaheira's eyes flared as she strode over to the swashbuckler, grabbing his shirt with one hand and raising her fist to his face. "You lying scoundrel! What have you done, damnable wretch!?"

"No need for that kind of name-calling." Saemon grunted, struggling as Aerie stepped over to Jaheira, the elven maiden placing one hand on Jaheira's shoulder with concern; Jaheira glanced at Aerie, shrugging the hand off with a bit more force than was necessary. Still, she let Saemon go, though the grip she held on her spear tightened as she lowered it to a more feasible position to strike from. "Now, do not for a second assume that I have anything but the best of intentions for the lot of ye. I said I'd find you passage off this island and that I will. It's just that before we get ourselves moving as it were, there's some, er… business I have to take care of, if you know what I mean."

"What kind of business?" Keldorn asked, his brow furrowing in concern and suspicion, the sailor slowly losing the small measure of confidence and trust he had built amongst the party.

"Business like... acquiring a ship for travel business." Saemon confessed, wincing as though expecting to be hit at any moment.

"What happened to your ship?" Greywulf asked, his eyes closed as he rubbed the bridge of his nose. _Why. Why, do I continue to trust this man?_

"'Tis a horrid tale to bear, but I fear the events are as unfortunate as they are completely and utterly not my fault. I had hoped certain agreements and relationships I had upon this isle settled, but I am denied. My ship which I brought has been scuttled in an act of the purest malice. Such villainy I am subjected too!" Saemon said, shaking his head.

"Of course. So that's why you offered us help. Just so we could help you get a new ship." Imoen said dryly, the shine and glisten of the outside world brought back down to earth as she rolled her eyes, sighing deeply. "You have got to be kidding."

"It does my spirit harm that you think I would try and cheat you of your rescue. Perhaps I did not have my ship on hand, but my intentions were well and true." Saemon protested. "My sole purpose is to find you transport, and by the luck of the draw, it is best done by procuring me a new ship. We should hurry, lest enemies return, such as the wizard or his vampire cohort. T'would not do to fight him unprepared."

"We're not pirates." Keldorn reminded him.

"True, but the owner of this particular ship is." Saemon remarked, pointing down towards the port, visible from the high altitude of the isle they stood at. "The obvious course would be to exact a revenge of sorts to procure another ship, and it just so happens that I have the perfect mark in mind. The Pirate Lord, who so maliciously disabled my vessel, has a perfectly serviceable ship of his own. If we could make off with it, we would certainly be set and fit for travel."

"And let me guess- you've got some convoluted plan to steal the ship, using us, of course, as the point men for your dirty work." Greywulf eyed Saemon, exhaling with irritation. "Am I right?"

"Well... not in the words I would have put, but yes. I will need you and yours to do a bit of thieving, as it were. I'll be making contacts and bribing sailors to ship out with us, while you get the papers from Desharik's house that will ensure a smooth departure-"

"No." Greywulf shook his head, waving for the others to follow as he started heading for the town's center. "I've got a better plan."

Saemon blinked once, watching the group shrug and head after the sorcerer; he stumbled after them, waving one arm. "Wait a second... a better plan? Mind letting Saemon know this little trickery a'fore we start?"

Silence answered the man as he strove to catch up; he tried to ignore the faint chill of sweat that crossed his brow as they entered Brynnlaw proper. The Bhaalspawn and his companions... they weren't the sort to trifle with. It was imperative he stay in charge of the game... or at least in the loop. When people started getting edgy, people started getting killed. And from the looks of it... he wasn't the only edgy one here. He wondered, if only to himself, what had happened to them since he had spoken with them last. No matter what Imoen had said, he was no fool. Something had changed... for the worse.

He watched the ranger slowly creep towards the druid, sideling up beside her with as much nonchalance as a fellow as large and unstealthy as he could be, while Aerie did the same to Greywulf. So... it was the two of them that were the source of the sudden strife he could see. He watched as the figures beyond spoke their words, undoubtedly variations on the same thing, undoubtedly cliché and trite. He turned from watching them, already knowing what the outcome would be. And that, Saemon reflected with a chuckle, was why he worked alone.

On up ahead, Keldorn watched Greywulf's stride as he explained the plan to the group; it was unusual... rather, unusual for him. Not like Greywulf at all... but somehow not unexpected. His anger, his rage that had always been so suppressed before and kept in check was always so close to the surface, so easily brought forward. Just one day made all the difference, and he knew what had been the catalyst. He remembered the argument he and Jaheira had engaged in the night previous- no clear winner, no resolution... and the loss of her trust. Quite possibly the worst outcome of the discourse... but Keldorn had to have faith. There was no other option... if he and the others lost faith in Greywulf now, it would mean a victory for the Slayer. And until Greywulf made that final step, became the Slayer of his own free will and turned his back on the humanity that made him who he was... he would follow. Follow and watch.

"Are we having this discussion right now?!" Greywulf asked incredulously as Aerie drew back from Greywulf, her expression showing he had spoken with a bit more force than he usually did with her. "We'll be after Irenicus in a day at most. We can discuss all this later, all right?"

She looked like she wanted to acquiesce, to simply back off and let him close up on her... but she had not come all this way, grown so close to him and the others... something should be said. She swallowed and pressed the issue. "I just... I just wanted you to know that we heard what happened last night. All of us- you don't have to be alone in this. We do trust you, we really do-"

"Then if you trust me so much, why are you all so concerned with how to kill me when I lose control? Why are you trying to encourage me now but then are petrified of me when my back is turned?! Aerie... just leave me alone for now." he said angrily, brushing past her and continuing on, leaving the elf behind, hurt and just a little frightened at what Greywulf was becoming. The knowledge of just how important trust was to him was becoming clearer and clearer... as well as how easy it would be for her to abandon that trust.

"This is not for us to speak of. I do not wish to talk right now and ask you to respect my wishes." Jaheira's simple, curt remarks were almost enough to deter Minsc... but he did not relent. He remained by her side, racking his brain for something, anything to help her. He had heard the words shouted and the things said the night before... it broke his heart to hear such friends and allies with such anger and hate in their voices. Minsc laid one hand on her shoulder, not moving it despite the obvious irritation growing in her eyes.

"Minsc does not understand everything you said to Greywulf... and he knows he is not the one who you would listen to or come to for advice-"

"Then stop trying to give it! Stop acting like you have any idea of what I feel! Life is not the simplistic view you make of it, Minsc! You will learn it or-" Jaheira abruptly caught herself, visibly holding back the angry words she would have said... but the damage was done. Minsc averted his eyes... then nodded, turning from her as well.

Both party members eyed those who had come to them with the best of intentions, shoved back in their faces with anger and petulant feelings; those feelings renewed as they spotted each other. Once more, hearts were hardened and things were left unsaid, unheard, and unfelt. Time was running out...

X X X X X X

The salt covered planks of the docks creaked and groaned as the heavy boots plodded down on each one in sequence, tracking straight for the end pier, and more importantly, the one whose ship was currently being made ready to sail. The man's' nostrils flared as the vessel came into view. It had to have been that blasted Havarian... there was no other choice. How he managed to get a hold of the proper authorization papers and convince the crew to make ready was a mystery, but he'd be damned if he let that swindler of a pirate make off with his ship-

He frowned as the main deck of the boat was made visible, the fog that plagued the docks so often just thin enough for a group of six to be made out, standing on the end of the boat beside the dock, blocking passage onto his ship. Three looked like warriors, the others like mages- no. These were familiar... the ones that the bounty hunter had told him of; who would be taking the passage to Spellhold. But if they were here, that meant they had escaped the asylum? No. No, it couldn't be. Just a coincidence, that's all...

"Why Desharik! You look like someone's done walked over your grave! Don't trouble yourself seeing us off... we'll find our own way off the isle, thank you!"

The taunting voice of Saemon Havarian erased all memory of fear or hesitation; his eyes flared as he whirled to spy the swashbuckler bowing low and waving his oversized captain's hat from the other side of the boat, a grin on his face. "Havarian! You piece of filth! I'll cut your heart out for this; stealing my money, my mistress, and my ship?!"

"Call it borrowing." One of the mercenaries spoke, his arms folded as he glared at Desharik, his gray robes fluttering in the sea breeze. "Let's get this straight, pirate. This is now our ship. We'll be taking it back to the mainland; Saemon is our acting captain, but he answers to us. You can just hang out here on your little island kingdom and do whatever you like, so long as you don't bother us. Understand?"

There was nothing but the sound of seagulls in the air for a moment- Desharik burst out laughing as he sneered, the black hair of his moustache and beard curling up with his feral grin. "Ye've got problems in the head, boy. I'm the Pirate Lord of this island, and my word is law! Besides, do you really think you an' six others can get my personal ship ready to sail?! Stand down now and I'll do ye quick."

If there was one thing Desharik was used to, it was respect. Those who served under him feared him. Those who opposed him were killed. Those who lived under his rule obeyed his every whim, always fearful of the wrath that had earned him the title engraved on his cutlass, 'The Butcher.' Thus, it was more than a little confusing for the burly, fearsome pirate when the sorcerer began laughing, shaking his head wryly. Compounded with Saemon's continued defiance, it was a wonder the Pirate Lord hadn't begun foaming at the mouth yet.

"How DARE you laugh at me, whelp! I'll have your guts on my wall when I'm through-"

"Spare us the threats." Greywulf cut him off, a dark tone entering his voice. "Let's get something clear. You know that asylum up at the top of those cliffs? The one the Cowled Wizards use to store the people they can't handle? We were locked up there. We got out. Everyone else died. Do you think we'd have too much trouble slaughtering a rag-tag band of pirates and crewmen if we really tried? The rest of the crew was smart when we told them that and got in line to help us out a bit. Do you want to do the same, or do we have to kill you like those up at the asylum?"

The low rumble of the rest of the crew, those who had been readying the ship to sail and even the noises of the gulls above had seemed to quiet as Desharik's mouth worked up and down, his face contorting between fear, disbelief and rage- he roared, spittle flying from his mouth and over his beard, raising his cutlass high as he started to charge them, his eyes wide and bloodshot. Jaheira visibly tightened as she lowered her spear, preparing to meet the charge, automatically wary of the pirates at their backs whose loyalty might now be in question... and with an explosion of magic and water, there was no longer any need whatsoever to worry about those behind them. In fact, there was no longer any need to worry about anyone on the front half of the boat. The six found themselves flung to the deck as the boat seemed to disintegrate under their feet, splinters and pieces of wood flying everywhere under the magical bombardment.

Even the mad rush of the Pirate Lord had ceased upon seeing half of his beloved ship destroyed in one fell swoop; Saemon spat a curse as he picked himself up, shaking his head in a daze. He wiped the water from his face that had covered him with the splash of the boat's destruction, glancing back to what had hit them- an alien-looking craft, just barely floating above the water, was swift approaching from the ocean, glowing cannons of mystical origin protruding from the sides of the craft, pulsing with the magics they had unleashed.

"Saemon!" the roar of Greywulf over the thunder of the waves and the screams of onlookers caught his hearing, the sorcerer's expression a mixture of confusion and anger. "What the hell just hit us?!"

An alien tongue blasted out from the floating ship, echoing over the din and piercing their ears as it warbled and threatened, unfamiliar but so clear in its hostility. It ceased for a moment, then continued, this time in basic, human tongue. "Cease, humans! The oaths of binding demand, and the Githyanki answer!"


	61. Part 2: Shatterpoint

_Author's Note: Ah, here we are once again. The end of Part 2 is upon us, Part 3 in the wings... and I owe all you readers a whole lot! Thanks once again for the reading, the reviewing, all of it! Wow. Almost a year since I started this thing... dang. School was easier back then, but I digress. A couple of things to note: First off, I mentioned it in the story description, but I'll take it out in another few days- Chapter 1 has been fully rewritten. Ugh. Honestly, I hated that chapter, and am so glad to see it bear something closer to what I was really looking for. Second, I'll let you guys know that this is my absolute favorite chapter in the whole thing I've written(and the longest). That having been said... well, I really want to know what you guys think of it. So for the first and probably last time... I'd love to see your reviews for this one! Please?_

_Heh. Thanks for all the awesome readers out there! _

_-Captain Incredible_

The planks of wood creaked and groaned as the heavy, ornate boots set foot on their surface. The wood was soaked in water and blood, the first from the heavy explosion of what had once been the ship of the Pirate Lord of Brynnlaw, the other from the men who had died by the magical bombardment and subsequent swords and psionics of the alien attackers. The creature at lead scanned the survivors of the destruction, still picking themselves up and gathering their wits after being struck. Many were worthless, mere puppets who screamed and fled like slaves- no, slaves had more dignity than these cowards- but there were a few who dared to stand and face their attackers. The upper lip of the humanoid curled in an alien sneer- a raucous shout broke his concentration as a heavyset human pulled his massive girth from the ground, dragging it over before him- daring to stand before the head of the Sword Stalkers without respect?- and shouting inanities and threats into his face.

One of his men rumbled, a message passing silently between the two of them as their thoughts were received and intermingled over the tendrils of psychic power, but the Githyanki at head denied his request. It was but one pathetic human... and his blade had not been fed for some time.

The sounds of indignant rage and threatening violence ended just as quickly as they had begun, and with a swing so fast it had been nothing more than a blur to the observers, the head of Desharik rolled across the dock, coming to rest at the feet of Saemon Havarian. The swashbuckler paled a bit, gingerly stepping away from the open eyed gaze of the Pirate Lord, as well as moving behind the six adventurers who still stood defiant- understandably upset, seeing as their means of leaving the island was now destroyed.

The Githyanki leader, all gray sinew with a gaunt, skeletal frame covered in ceremonial armor of silver and gold raised his bloodied sword high; he brought it down, pointing it with black eyes toward the group of seven. "You there! Human swine! Payment is demanded for your crimes!"

"I don't know who you people are, and to be honest I don't really give a damn right now." Greywulf snarled, inwardly drawing upon his magic in preparation for the fight he was almost certain would come. "But you just destroyed our only way off this island. It's been a rough couple of days; believe me when I say you don't want to do this today."

The Githyanki laughed, a rough, almost hacking sound that only served to draw the guard of the rest of the party, all tight and waiting for the first to attack. The Gith leader spat at Greywulf's feet, shaking his head from side to side. "Not you, worthless as you are! He who has stolen from us! He who hides in your midst- the one whom will be your downfall should you stand beside his treacherous hide! Saymon HayVareon!"

As if a sea had been parted, all six adventurers suddenly swept out of the way, leaving the ship's captain exposed before the now feral grin of the Githyanki, his own grin quite a bit more forced. "Excuse me? My pardon, but I... I am not quite sure I know what you are speaking of- Speak clearly, that I might understand." Saemon said, drawing out each syllable as he spoke. "And if you don't mind, the name is spoken with more of a flourish, and... er, a good deal less spittle."

"Way to prioritize there, buddy." Imoen snickered, shaking her head as the pink strands of her hair flew about, scattering water droplets everywhere. "What'd you do to get these fellas after yer hide? I'm gonna go with betrayal; just a shot in the dark, you know."

Saemon shot a glare at Imoen, but anything he might possibly have said was cut off with a blast of psychic energy, sending tearing fire through all of their minds as the Githyanki at head strode past the suddenly incapacitated adventurers, picking Saemon up by the collar and lifting him high, the tips of his boots a foot off the ground. "Your name shall be spoken with blades for tongues! The relic must be returned!"

"R-relic?!" Saemon did his best to sound innocent as his face contorted in pain, trying to hold off the waves of power echoing through his mind, nearly rendering him unconscious. "I don't... don't know what you're talking about-"

"Liar!!" the Githyanki flung him across the dock, Saemon's body bouncing off a post with an oh-so-painful grunt. Still, the psychic energies pulsating from the Githyanki had ceased, and Greywulf pushed himself to a crouch again, clutching the side of his head as he glared at the Githyanki marching past him towards Saemon. The anger he felt burned deep inside him- deep in the recesses of his mind he could feel the tainted voice of the Slayer calling to him, enticing- no. He pushed it away with effort, finally pulling himself up enough to launch himself towards Saemon, landing between the man and his hunters.

"As much as I'd love to sit here and watch you cut Havarian into dozens of little pieces, he's our best lead off this island." the wizard said, raising his quarterstaff to guard. "Why are you hunting him?"

"Why?! You would place your own life with the defilers by your questions!" The Githyanki swung his sword hard left, cutting a pole that had supported one of the oil lamps lining the docks down. "The Holy blade of the Vorpal Sword, only to be used by the high priest of the Githyanki! No man can touch it, or they defile its grace and must be destroyed! This human stole it from us and we demand justice!"

"I'd return your thievery, Havarian..." Keldorn warned, glancing back and forth between the increasingly hostile Githyanki and the ship's captain. "They look ill-suited to waiting much longer."

"Ah, but it is as I said..." Saemon grunted, finally pulling himself to an upright position again, brushing his jacket off as he fixed a roguish grin on his face. "I don't have this relic of yours. Check me and see- nothing."

"If you do not have the Sword of our people, then who among your filthy race does?!" one of the Githyanki raised his hands, letting lightning crackle at his bony fingertips.

"Why... this man in front of you. Greywulf is the name."

There was a moment of silence as everyone realized the implications of what Saemon had just said and done; before Greywulf could reply to either Havarian or the Githyanki, the alien humanoid before him howled, his head writhing with bared, jagged rows of teeth. "Yes!! Divination does not lie- Saymon does not lie! This one has the Silver Blade!"

"Good, then you can take him and his group and we'll be on our way peacefully, eh?" Saemon flashed a grin at the baleful looks of the Githyanki.

"Destroy them all! A lesson must be meted for this crime, and all will learn not to cross the Githyanki!" the lead warrior cried, before drawing a blade and moving to attack. "Death! Death to all who have defiled its grace!"

A sword came hurtling down towards Greywulf's head, intending to cleave his skull in two- only a newly dexterous block from Keldorn saved him, the Holy Avenger ringing loud and clear in the afternoon sky as it swept aside the strike. "He's lying to you! We don't have your sword!"

"Er... sorry, mates. That's not entirely accurate. I say, this just isn't a good tenday for any of you." Saemon said apologetically as he rapidly began putting distance between him and the group. Too late, the vision of Saemon kneeling beside Greywulf's bag in the moments before Keldorn had caught him came to their minds- time enough for him to slip the blade in- Saemon grunted as he was brought low by a flying tackle from Jaheira, the druid rolling over atop him with dagger drawn.

"I should slit your throat now and be done with you." she spat furiously, raising the weapon high as though to do just that. A shadow fell over her and Saemon, the thief pointing behind her with wide eyes. "The throat slitting might wait until later, aye?"

She whipped around to a crouch, letting Saemon scamper out from under her, Jaheira bringing the dagger up to send a downswing just off course, shearing one lock of hair from her mane before the blade slit into the wood of the dock. The sounds of battle raged as Saemon finally put a few dozen yards between him and the battle, the thief waving to Greywulf as he caught the man's eye in the midst of battle. "Sorry about all this, but just providing for all those concerned... namely me. Like I said, one must do what good business dictates! This would be my cue to leave. Farewell, Greywulf! Good luck!"

With a flash of magic, he stepped through a dimension door and vanished, leaving the party alone, the battle raging hard and fast. "At least there's only three of them." Imoen called behind her to Minsc as she sidestepped a sword chop and retaliated with a burst of Magic Missiles, the bullets proving little more than annoyances to the planar warriors.

A clap of thunder echoed through the air; Greywulf looked up in disbelief as dozens of Githyanki ships poured out of the void, slipping through the Astral Plane to the island of Brynnlaw. The cannons whose power had decimated the Pirate Lord's ship glowed bright purple, the destructive magics preparing to send them all to the Abyss- Greywulf raised one fist, letting a wave of magic rush through him and throw their attackers backwards, tumbling into an assortment of piled up crates and barrels. He turned to the others and shouted one simple command. "Run!!"

X X X X X X

Jon Irenicus and Bodhi stood before a number of drow elves in the Temple of Lolth, the Matron Mother Ardulace among them. Irenicus regarded the drow with contempt, not even bothering to hide it when addressing the lower warriors. "So... have the drow lived up to their reputations, or are they as weak as their cousins among the surface?"

"Things go well above, toniak rivvil!" the drow lieutenant spat, his arm twitching as he suppressed the urge to strike Irenicus. "The temple of their false god has been defiled."

"I am most pleased, rothe auflaque." Irenicus laughed, the drow clenching his fist as he heard the words the human had called him. "My revenge will soon come."

"We did not act for your benefit, Irenicus," Matron Mother Ardulace corrected, her tone warning, growing tired of the constant baiting that Irenicus did with her soldiers, "Though you did offer some… interesting opportunities."

"Yes, Matron Mother, excuse my careless words." Irenicus said, his disgust veiled only enough to satisfy the drow before him.

Bodhi smirked as she listened to the exchange. Neither of the groups trusted or even liked each other, but could not do anything aside from them. Irenicus' power was great enough to smite all the drow before him, but even he and Bodhi could not defeat the whole drow city. In the same way, the drow would have liked nothing better than to dispose of Irenicus, his part in their plot mostly finished. Still, his power was greater than anything they could muster; killing him was possible, but the price would be dear. Better to have the power contained within his frame on their side- at the very least on working terms. And so was born an alliance of distrust and malice, each tolerating the other only by compulsion, a mutual enemy their target. Before any more hinted threats could be made, several drow arrived, two elven prisoners chained and shackled between them, both having been tortured and beaten before being brought there.

"Our first prisoners arrive, Matron Mother." one of the drow captors said, bowing. "These two rank high among the surface scum, Matron. What is to be their fate?"

Ardulace walked up to the two elves, a look of pure hatred on her face as she faced them. The contrast of drow and surface elf was striking: dark faced, white hair and short, hardened bodies versus the blonde, long locks of the pale, lithe surface elves. The servants of Lolth the Spider Queen versus the followers of Corellan Latharian. The two races were as far from each other as possible, though they had once been indistinguishable. Ardulace snarled once, then spat in the faces of the two elves. "Their presence sickens me. Kill them."

The drow guards drew their adamantine long swords, preparing to end their lives- Irenicus stepped forward, raising one hand to block the progress of the drow soldier nearest to him, a move so bold it would have earned any other surfacer a long and terrible death. "Perhaps it would be better to question them first."

Ardulace and Irenicus stared at each other for a few moments, considering how to continue their verbal sparring. Irenicus saw her decision as foolish, despite admiring the anger behind it. His anger against the elves was almost as potent, if not more so than the drow's, though there was a great difference. His was cool, controlled by reason and emotionless thought. He used it to drive his actions, but did not let it control them. The drow had no such restrictions, and let their fury shine like a badge of honor. As Irenicus spoke, the elves became aware of a presence aside from the drow, and they scanned the room to find it. When they saw Irenicus, they recoiled physically in shock, the drow holding them having to tighten their grips. One of the elves shouted, "Joneleth! What are you doing with these monsters! You are one of-"

Before he could finish, Irenicus' eyes flared, his hands blazing with fire as he smote the two elves, the drow holding them jumping back to avoid being immolated as well. As the two burnt skeletons fell to the floor, the Matron Mother Ardulace laughed, watching Irenicus struggle to regain his former composure. "An odd way to question, Irenicus. Did you not like his tone?"

Irenicus cleared his throat, then responded, "I… reconsidered, Matron. Your command was the wiser."

Matron Mother Ardulace sneered, just short of laughing aloud at Irenicus and his weakness. She would let him keep his secrets; it did not matter. The elves would be defeated. Suldenesselar would run red with the blood of its people. Irenicus could have his revenge, but in the end, it would be the drow who emerged victorious.

X X X X X X

The sounds of the dead and dying- the screams of innocents being murdered without care or reason all haunted their ears as the six adventurers hurtled through the paths and streets of Brynnlaw, the punctuation of the constant terror being the thunder of the magical bombardment of the island. With each blast, another piece of the town was destroyed, turning wood to ashes and stone to lava. Adding to the danger was the several Githyanki who still pursued them on foot, seemingly unafraid of the constant threat of death from above. Aerie darted through a side street, hoping to lose a few of them- a blast collapsed the entire set of buildings that made up the street, leaving nothing but rubble before her and the others. They turned to retreat, but their pursuers had caught up by then. A Githyanki howled as he threw himself forward, blade swinging rapidly from side to side.

An arrow from Imoen's bow slammed into his chest, sending him stumbling back once- twice- three times. The Githyanki's mouth opened and closed, choking sounds coming from it as it fell to the ground, three arrows sticking from his limp body. Minsc ducked under a leaping swing, coming up with both axes, ripping through armor and flesh, continuing onward as the big man attempted to cut a swath through their foes and give them another place to run. Just as his manic counterattack made daylight, the sound of another magical bombardment echoed through the city- A flash of purple hazed the area as it descended upon the narrow alley where they had just pulled themselves out of. The Githyanki still inside screamed once before being silenced completely, the only thing left amidst the rubble being charred husks of armor and skeletons.

"What can we do??" Imoen cried out, nearly stumbling over herself as she raced further and further away from the docks, where the Githyanki ships were slowly settling, dropping more and more pursuers while some stayed in the air, continually pounding the city with their magics. "There's nowhere we can go!!"

The sound of a woman screaming caught their attention; Keldorn's eyes widened as he saw a young girl falling to the ground, a Githyanki warrior over her with sword upraised. He bolted from the main group, his heart racing as he pushed himself harder than ever, whipping the Hallowed Redeemer in a horizontal arc. Both pieces of the Githyanki fell to the ground, leaving the girl unharmed as Keldorn yanked her to her feet, pushing her onward as they both took their respective paths, trying to flee the devastation. Another scream of terror caught them as they kept moving, whether it was the same girl Keldorn had just saved or another just like her, this time there was nobody there to save her. Her cries were cut out with another explosion, as another chunk of Brynnlaw was leveled in an attempt to pay for the sins of one Saemon Havarian.

"Only one chance! We make for the portal in Spellhold!" Greywulf roared as he waved his staff forward, pointing towards the castle like asylum upon the highest peaks of the island. Remarkably, it had not been hit yet, though the flames that were rapidly overtaking the island began to cast an orange tint upon the structure. They darted across the remains of the city, weaving in and out of the new and collapsed paths through the city, trying desperately to find the path leading back up to the asylum. Aerie's eyes widened as she saw the main staircase that began the climb towards the island. She called behind her, pushing onward as she darted up the stair, Jaheira and Keldorn close behind- another ball of magic came hurtling out of the sky, sizzling with power as it dropped towards the very stair they were set upon.

Keldorn threw himself up with all his strength, pushing both women up with him as he brought them just barely out of harm's way. The crater that had once been a stairway was black and sizzling and for a moment the three feared the worst- a cry from Minsc below allayed their fears. The ranger had pulled Greywulf and Imoen down with him, the two groups separated. "We'll find another way up! Keep moving, and try and find a way to drop the wards on the asylum so we can get inside!" Greywulf called out, before a warning shout from Keldorn spun them to meet another group of Githyanki, the three being pushed further and further away as the battle renewed.

Aerie hesitated a moment before turning and running with the other two; one of the Githyanki chasing Minsc and the other two saw her and screeched a cry; four of the humanoids turned away from their pursuit and darted straight towards the elf; they launched themselves high with their legs, soaring through the air and straight towards Aerie. The elf regained her wits in a split-second- she spun her magics as quick as she could muster, sending a Prismatic Spray through the air to send two of the four flying. No time for the other two- she turned and bolted, the back hem of her robe fluttering through the air as a sword sliced it off.

The two warriors ahead of her had not been idle; Jaheira turned and shouted a flurry of her own incantations; before the eyes of the Githyanki Jaheira's body morphed and reshaped itself into that of a grizzly bear- it roared and launched itself past Aerie and down the hill in a blur, landing atop one of the warriors, her claws and teeth tearing into him before he could even think of defending himself. The other Githyanki screeched as it stepped back, putting some distance between itself and the impassive beast, only to gag as Keldorn's blade came out his chest, the paladin yanking it free in a swift motion before shouting to Jaheira, the bear throwing itself off the mauled corpse and scampering up the hill, quickly back to her companions' sides.

A hail of flaming rock and wood scattered across the hillside that the three were climbing, nothing to put them in danger or harm's way, but enough to startle them, all looking towards the burning port. It was already decimated, but still under siege by the unflappable Githyanki, hell-bent on recovering the blade and killing those who had taken it, regardless of the cost to those around. The sounds of men and women dying reached over the roaring fires and thunders of magic- Keldorn gazed out over the ruins, trying to keep the anguish from showing on his face as his noble spirit endured the evil before him. The memory of the girl he had just saved crossed his memory- was she still alive? Had he extended her life a few seconds longer so she could be buried by falling debris or meet another death by sword or magic? He wrenched himself away from the thoughts and the sights and pushed onward again, the asylum growing closer with each step.

The grass and dirt path slowly turned to rock and stone as they came to the outskirts of asylum, each step bringing them closer. They reached the platform where Saemon's first teleportation had brought them; the echoes of magic grew closer as the Githyanki began to realize that their targets had escaped the city, fleeing to the only place not engulfed in devastation. Finally, as though a beacon of light in the darkness, the asylum came into view, its dirty, corrupt walls never looking so welcome. "Quickly, the wards! Aerie, Jaheira, lower them as best you can!" Keldorn barked, turning his back to watch for more enemies- he dropped his head, a crossbow bolt shooting just over him, striking the wall beside Aerie. Keldorn raised his blade, preparing to move forward alongside Jaheira, protecting Aerie as she continued to work on finding an opening for them to pass through.

A fireball exploded on the hill where the Githyanki were advancing, sending the front group flying. Keldorn breathed a quick sigh of relief to see a battered and bruised group swiftly approaching from the opposite side of the cliffs, Imoen lowering her hand from the spell she had just cast. She opened her mouth to yell something; another explosion muted anything she might have said, leaving their ears ringing once more. More Githyanki leapt over the hill, pursuing the six adventurers, coming up faster as Aerie kept working; she turned and shouted to the others, "I can't do it! They're still too strong!"

"Jaheira, you and Imoen work on while the rest of us fight them off!" Greywulf had scarce time to deal out the command before the howls of several more Githyanki caught them. Greywulf flipped his staff down like a pike, catching a Githyanki breastplate on it. He pushed forward, enough to throw the man off balance before whipping to the side, moving to strike one that was aiming for the newly transformed Jaheira, working on the wards with Aerie- she turned from her work and batted the Gith aside by spear, stepping into the attack and continuing to follow it up- but making herself a new target at the same time.

The sound of a crossbow firing and metal piercing flesh and a moan of pain chilled Greywulf's blood as he saw Jaheira's leg collapse on itself, a splatter of blood flying from her thigh where the bolt had struck her. Keldorn whipped his sword in an upward arc, clearing some space as he and Greywulf desperately tried to get to her side before she met her end, unable to defend herself- once more, the air sizzled with magic. Once more, the sound of a thunderous ball of energy descending nearly deafened them... but this time, it could not have been more welcome. The magic energies collided with the asylum, stretching and dissipating the wards as they attempted to maintain integrity- and failed. The asylum wall nearest them collapsed into rubble, exposing the insides of Spellhold once again. They were back.

Greywulf ignited a sunfire burst, just enough to give Keldorn time to bend down and pick up Jaheira in his arms, darting forward into the ruins along with the rest of the party, Greywulf at back, hurling lightning bolts and fireballs as he felt his magics drain, almost at the breaking point- "There it is! Everyone inside, now!"

The swirling void of the portal was their last hope... and they did not hesitate. Minsc and Aerie went first, followed by Imoen, then Keldorn and Jaheira. Greywulf hesitated for a moment, watching the Gith following closely, ready to follow anywhere, even unto death- Greywulf looked up, seeing one final blast of magic arcing down towards him, their target spot on. He watched it come closer, closer... at the very last second, he leapt through the portal. The magic impacted, twisting and shattering everything in the place Greywulf had just been... including the portal itself, closing it for good.

X X X X X X

Darkness. A drip of water here... splitting upon a stalagmite below, the faint but audible noise provided an ambience of sorts for the bruised and battered six, finally finding some measure of solace in the strangest of places... the Underdark. Greywulf sat on a large rock on the far end of the miniature trading post run by the duergar dwarves who had found them upon their arrival into the dreaded place of legend.

Probably the most fortuitous of events that could have occurred- the alternate choices of 'rescuers' was rather unappealing. Illithid, beholders, kua-toa, drow, umber hulks... each species deadly, each one strong enough to survive and thrive in the Underdark. Greywulf sat alone, his head hung low as he inhaled and exhaled deeply, trying to regain some measure of strength, energy... anything. It was like trying to breathe in vacuum, trying to run underwater... impossible. All he wanted was to block out the visions and memories of the last hours and days- and he was failing. Everyone was at their breaking point; if it had been bad on the surface, the Underdark was doing nothing to help the problem. They were currently holed up in a small cavernous area the duergar had given them in exchange for the little gold they had left on them; they had been found wandering alone in the darkness, trying to put as much distance from themselves and where the portal had dumped them, wary that the Githyanki might find some way to follow.

Keldorn and Minsc had carried Jaheira the whole way; her leg useless after the injury. If not for the bargain they had struck with the dwarven clan, they would have been little more than prey to anything that stumbled upon them. Still... it wasn't enough. This small measure of safety, a minute to catch their breath before moving again... it wasn't enough to erase the sounds of the dying. The screams of the injured. The sight of Brynnlaw being decimated, the whole island undoubtedly leveled- no stone left upon another. It would be a miracle if the Githyanki left even one survivor- and it was his fault. Greywulf fingered the Silver Sword Blade, having found it in his pack as soon as they had been given a time to rest and recover. It glinted with obvious magic and value... and power. The power to destroy. He shuddered once, then hurled it across the cavern, the metal clattering to the ground beside a rock formation.

"You should be more careful... the duergar are edgy enough having us here; making such a commotion will not help matters." Keldorn's voice echoed through the dim little cavern, the paladin striding in and kneeling beside the Silver Sword Blade. "At the very least, we might find some way of returning this to the Githyanki. They will not stop hunting us until it is restored- telling them we lost it in the Underdark would probably be a futile gesture."

"It's my fault, Keldorn." Greywulf's voice was hollow, with hardly a trace of emotion in it. "I could have given it to them... could have stopped the slaughter. Now, an entire island is dead. Everyone."

"You did what you could." Keldorn said, moving to seat himself beside Greywulf, the middle-aged man grunting as he tried to find a comfortable position, his armor scraping loudly against the stone around him. "It's not as though they were giving you a chance to surrender the blade. Once you knew it was in your possession, you were fighting for your life. There was no wrong in defending yourself."

The sorcerer's head flipped up to look at Keldorn, a haunted look in his deep brown eyes. "It is! It is my fault! Who made the choice to trust Saemon again, even after everything we knew! After you saw him messing with my pack?! I did... and it nearly cost us all our lives. I think back to what a drow once told me..."

"A drow?" Keldorn's brow furrowed, taken by surprise.

"On the surface." Greywulf chuckled bitterly. "Viconia was her name. We saved her from a Flaming Fist mercenary who was hunting her near Nashkel; she traveled with us long enough to find another place to hide herself. It was only for a week or two, but she never really understood why we helped her... or trusted her. She once told me 'Khaless zhah whol l'waela... lu'l'elghinyrr'."

Keldorn awaited the translation, to which Greywulf smiled thinly. " 'Trust is for the foolish... and the dead'. It looks like she was right after all."

"If you believe that, then you are lost." Keldorn growled, his voice abruptly taking a rough edge. "Never abandon hope. If you choose to despair, if you choose to take the easy way out... you're right. People will die. You will be the last... but your friends, everything you care about... they will be first."

"It's so easy for you to say that." Greywulf pushed himself off the rock, moving away from Keldorn with a glare. "You're not the one with a demon inside you- you're not the one who's got to deal with the knowledge that you might kill-"

"Do you think you're the only who's indirectly caused the deaths of innocents?! Do you think I don't bear that same heartache in my soul?" Keldorn took a step forward, his eyes flaring as he closed the gap between them, the paladin's face growing angry, a scary sight for the normally so even-tempered paladin. "I've lead hundreds of knights and squires in my days as a member of the Radiant Heart. Do you know how many times I sent men into battle, knowing that few if any would ever return from battle?! I knew or trained every single one- each of them had a face! Each one had a family, a wife I had to console when she learned her husband was killed, or a child to whom I had to explain why their father would never be coming home! You will never understand that kind of pain- do not try to tell me what your suffering is! Learn to cope, as I have! If you cannot, then you are no more fit to lead than when you were an inexperienced mageling!"

The outburst from the two was abruptly silenced, as each seemed to run out of things to throw back at each other- Keldorn's demeanor cooled abruptly, the older man exhaling as he returned to the rock seat, his hands on his knees in weary resignation. Greywulf slowly walked over and joined him, the two once again seated together. There was nothing but the steady drip of water upon the rock below for some time, when Greywulf turned to Keldorn. "Do you ever forget?"

"No." Keldorn said quietly; the answer was enough for them, and just like that, the gap was bridged again. Greywulf leaned back, blinking to try and get a better view of their surroundings.

"How long do you think we'll be safe here?" he said, rubbing his side gingerly, remnants of a piece of debris that had ricocheted off an explosion into him.

Keldorn glanced towards the duergar dwarves, just visible from the small cavern where they were holed up, the three snapping comments back and forth to each other in their dwarven tongue as they managed the contents of their stock. "Not for too much longer. Gold is a risky thing to place your trust in... and what we gave them was little enough to begin with. We should be gone at first opportunity, I think."

"Do we have nothing left to barter?" Greywulf questioned. "I imagine we could do with a bit of restocking. Arrows, potions... maybe a bit of smithing for the armor-"

"The armor is fine... though the people inside have seen better days." Imoen remarked, sliding into the conversation as she walked over to the two men, seating herself on the cavern floor. She brushed a few strands of sticky hair from her face, sighing as she looked at the dirt smear on her fingers from just touching her face. "Minsc and Aerie talked to the dwarves- they seem edgy enough about having us here as we are. They're ready for us to leave whenever we can, and they're willing to spot us a few quivers of arrows and some potions if it will get us out of here quicker."

"I wasn't aware the duergar feared the drow so much." Greywulf remarked, but Keldorn shook his head, pulling his waterskin out and taking a quick swill. "The drow will enslave anything, given the opportunity. Three dwarves like this are useful for as long as they provide services. If the drow think they're harboring us from them, their lives are forfeit."

"Then we'll move as soon as possible." Greywulf said, mustering his courage and strength for what seemed like the last time. "We've had six hours- is everyone ready to move?"

Imoen frowned, looking at Greywulf for a second, before shrugging and gesturing towards the other cavernous room that the duergar had set up around their post. "Jaheira is still hurt- there must've been something on that crossbow bolt. Maybe a weak poison... Aerie and she have both cast their spells, but it's just gotten her back to walking. With a limp. She'll be pretty limited in battle-"

"Then she should've done what I asked." Greywulf replied, his tone taking a slightly bitter edge. "You, Aerie and she were supposed to lower the wards, and we would have protected you. By turning around and jumping into the fray she just made herself a target."

"You haven't even gone to see her since we got here." Imoen said, disapproval evident in her voice. "Are you two ever going to make up, or do we have to listen to you two bicker the rest of the way?"

"It's not as simple as that, Imoen." he glared. "You don't just throw away your trust in someone and then expect them to take you back. If she won't see that-"

"And what if she does?" Keldorn pointed out. "As you say... she was injured because she didn't trust you to protect her- the next time it could very well cost her life. Unless you are so angry as to wish her dead, I suggest you do everything possible to make amends."

The sorcerer watched Keldorn turn and walk from the room, saying no more as he approached the dwarves, bargaining for the supplies they needed. Imoen sidled up beside Greywulf, the man looking between his feet at the ground, contemplating what Keldorn had just said. Imoen elbowed him gently enough to get his attention, "He's right, you know."

"I know." Greywulf said, standing and facing the cavern where Jaheira was still resting. "And that's the damnable thing of it all."

X X X X X X

Fires smoldered and rock turned to dust as the boots of the Sword Stalkers crushed them, the contingent of Githyanki gathering around the portal through which the party had disappeared. The Gith wizard among them knelt down beside Irenicus' device which had opened the portal to begin with; he snarled as he picked up the mangled machine, the magics which the Githyanki had bombarded them proving far too much for the metal to resist.

"Nothing!" the head warrior spat, throwing his head back with a cry of rage and fury. The others followed suit; finally coming to a calm, the warrior reached out a skeletal, gray skinned hand and placed it over the device, letting his eyes half close as his psychic powers flowed over, probing the essences surrounding it, trying to get some sort of fix as to where the portal had led, who had gone through-

_A dark woman, clad in leather and skin as pale as their own flashed through the portal, landing in a crouch as she bared her fangs, hissing once before leaping into the darkness surrounding all. She was no stranger to the place; she regarded it with a mix of curiosity and hatred... though it seemed the hatred was a leftover sentiment, leftover from a time, a life long past-_

_The wizard who had created the asylum, created the machines and the portals inside hurtled through, slamming his fist on the ground as he landed, slowly rising with a look of triumph across his face. He was worn, just escaping from a fight of sorts... but showed no fear. The mage stepped away, joining the woman he had seen before, but now she carried something, a containment sphere of magic-_

_Something chittered in the darkness. The two stopped for a moment, and the woman immediately stepped behind the wizard, though not for her own protection, more for what she carried. Out of the darkness came a tall, skinny figure, all purple and blue robes, an ugly mishmash of tentacles upon the face and gangly arms and fingers. The wizard gritted his teeth as the creature launched some sort of attack at him, the psychic energies so discernable to the Githyanki watching these events- a sword came from behind and cut down the monster. Sheathing the blade was an elf... a dark elf. He spat on the corpse, then motioned to the pair. They followed... barely sparing a glance for the dead mind flayer._

The Githyanki's eyes opened fully, and a look of disgust mixed with hatred crossed his face. He turned to his men, unsheathing his blade. "The defilers have fled to the Underdark, home of the most hated and feared illithid. We must follow... prepare the ships."

X X X X X X

A slight grunt of pain escaped her lips saw Jaheira swung her legs out from the stone cot she had been unsuccessfully resting upon; she set her bare feet down upon the cold stone gingerly, grimacing as she rubbed the spot on her thigh where the bolt had struck her. It had stopped throbbing, but she had gained quite the limp, even with the healing spells she and Aerie had cast; she took a deep set of breaths, then pushed herself up, bringing her full weight to bear. A slight twinge, nothing more. She permitted herself a tiny smile of satisfaction... good so far.

She stepped forward, good leg first, then the bad leg. Slow and steady... no problems there. Still, a snail's pace would be little use in combat- she quickened her gait, making short laps around the room, ignoring the pain in her feet from the sharp rocks underfoot and focusing entirely on how her leg felt, how it would or could impede her. Still she felt fine, even if there was a sharp touch here and there. The limp was less noticeable now, but still a factor. She pushed herself harder, gritting her teeth as her thigh began aching, the pain growing as she moved faster and faster, slowly developing her limping jog into a full fledged run- her thigh spasmed, sending her hurtling to the ground. She began to spit a curse- before she found herself caught in the arms of one half-elf sorcerer, just in time to catch her fall. He looked at her in surprise for a second, before she shook her head in irritation. "Let go of me." She shrugged him off as she limped back to the stone cot. "I am fine."

"I didn't ask." Greywulf said automatically, though inwardly reminding himself to try and avoid antagonizing her. "But it looked like you could use a little more time to rest. If you want we can stay here for a while longer, get you back to full capacity-"

"And risk the drow finding us, slaughtering us as easily as the Githyanki slaughtered Brynnlaw? I think not." she said, her sarcastic edge firmly in place. "Was there something you needed, or were you simply here to try and play the hero opposite my damsel in distress?"

Greywulf inhaled deeply, walked over to her side, then seated himself beside her, looking her in the eyes. "Jaheira, I know we've had a rough go of it the last day or so. You don't want to talk to me, and I quite frankly feel the same. But right now, I need you to do something for me. Shut up. Let me talk. Got it?"

Jaheira's mouth opened, and for a minute Greywulf expected to hear a shout of indignation or a slap in the face, but she simply leaned back with narrowed eyes, folded her arms, and nodded her head for him to continue. He steeled himself, not having really thought out what to say- what could he say? He tried to start, opened his mouth again and again to speak, but the words just wouldn't come. Finally Jaheira snorted in disgust, rolling her eyes. "Well, that was certainly worth my time. Congratulations on such a fine example of eloquence. Excuse me while I do something important."

She stood, made her way over towards the door, leaving Greywulf sitting watching as his one chance slipped away, their friendship falling deeper and deeper into ruin- "I care about you."

She stopped, her back still to him, but at least she was no longer leaving. He stood, desperately wracking his brain for anything to try and repair the damage that had been done. "We've both said a lot of things, most of which we meant. But it doesn't change the fact that I care for you, Jaheira. More than anyone. And the thought of me losing your friendship- it hurts. I can't even imagine what it would be like."

Her shoulders seemed to slump, and for a moment Greywulf allowed himself to believe she was willing to give up the fight- she turned with a pained look on her face, a tinge of sorrow crossing her features. "Friendship? Is that what you are concerned about? That's all you can think of?"

"I... no." he amended, Keldorn's words ringing in his ears. "Your life matters to me. Face it... we don't trust each other right now. Rather, you don't trust me. And it almost got you killed. We can't keep doing this, because it will happen again and again and again until one of us is dead. If I can't imagine losing your friendship... the thought of seeing you die feels like I'd be dying too. I'm not willing to let it go down like that. Whatever it takes... whatever it takes to bring us back, I'll do it. Just tell me, Jaheira. Please."

She met his eyes, the look of desperation, how much he wanted to make things between them work... she limped over to him, their eyes meeting and holding steady. "It was never... it was never something you could show me or something you could say... I do not know how to explain it. All I know is that you frighten me, Greywulf. Who you are... what you could become... even what you think you feel for me... all of it frightens me."

She stopped to take a breath, then continued. "I feared that by allowing us to grow so close, by letting our bond run so deep... it would blind me. I would be unable to see the forest for the trees- would be unable to see the taint in the man I cared about. I needed to know... still need to know, whether the Child of Bhaal in front of me is as sincere as he seems. I cannot allow anyone else to be hurt, Harpers, innocents, even... I admit, even myself, in pursuit of your company. I have to know, Greywulf."

She finally stopped, waiting for him to speak. He bowed his head, reaching out and taking her hand. He held it for one second, awaiting her to recoil and pull it away, but that never came. Finally, he looked up to her and smiled with regret. "If my words and your eyes are not enough, ask yourself what could be?"

He let go, and her hand dropped to her side as she considered those words. She shook her head, realizing the implications as she took a seat once more. "So you are saying that if nothing could ever make things right, it is me who is wrong. I am… looking for excuses to avoid you, and what I feel."

She laughed humorlessly, then reached over to her boots, laid beside her cot. " 'Chaos in their passage' indeed. We should get moving... I need some time to think on all this. We will talk again... later."

Greywulf nodded in acceptance, taking it for what it was. Before he left, he turned back one last time, watching her lace up the boots she wore. "Jaheira- just know that if nothing else... nothing else at all, know that I will always protect you. I swear."

She stopped briefly, then asked without looking up at him. "Can you protect me from yourself?"

The answer came without hesitation or pause. "Yes. I can and I will, if it comes to it."

X X X X X X

"The dwarves knew a lot more than they told us when we first arrived." Aerie listened as Keldorn spoke, taking point in the darkness with Minsc right behind his witch, ever watchful for danger. The group had set out, following the directions given to them by the duergar before taking their leave. The exchanges between the groups might not have been the most pleasant, but neither really wanted to be associated much with the other, so the odds of betrayal on either side were slim. "Not only did they know where Irenicus and Bodhi went since having arrived in the Underdark, but they actually saw the pair on their way. Heading towards Ust Natha, a drow city a few miles east of here."

"A frontal assault? Ooh... Boo's fur quivers in anticipation!" Minsc grinned. "It has been some time since Minsc attacked a whole city of evil!"

"I think a more subtle plan might be in order." Aerie offered with a tiny grin, the ranger shrugging in acquiescence. "Keldorn, did the dwarves give us any kind of hints on how to get inside?"

The paladin stopped briefly, looked at the surrounding area as he tried to remember the duergar instructions, then nodded as he waved them onward, following a westward path with a slight incline. "There's a svirfneblin village up ahead, hidden somewhere in the rocks, or so they said. The duergar suggested that they might know more; they trade more with the drow than not."

"How will we find their village?" Aerie asked, her brow knit as she looked around, trying to hide the obvious fear she felt, sequestered in this place of legend. "I will be glad to find someplace safe... being underground is just not for the Avariel."

"It's not just you, Aerie... this place creeps me out." Imoen said, shivering as she fingered an arrow at her bow, constantly looking behind and around them. "It's like this whole place... it feels like it drags you down to its level, down into... shadow? I... I don't know, it just-"

"Are you okay?" Aerie asked, concerned about her friend's sudden incoherency. "Feeling all right?"

"No, I-I'm fine." Imoen shook it off, inhaling and setting her shoulders, continuing on. "This place just reminds me of being in Spellhold. So dark... like there's no hope. No escape. It'd be bad enough if we were all getting along..."

"What do you think, Imoen?" Aerie asked quietly, glancing back at the pair who were taking up the rear, Greywulf staying behind with Jaheira to account for her reduced pace. "Will they be able to get over this? I know most things roll off Greywulf's back, but... I just don't know."

"There is much that still must be done... hurts and breaks that mere jokes and speeches will not fix." Keldorn responded to her query, his tone grim. "We are far from whole- all of us, now matter how much we would like to say otherwise, are affected."

They understood- if one of the deepest bonds among them could be broken so quickly, nothing was sacred. All that was sure was their mission. It still rang foremost in their minds, and drove them on, finally reaching the outskirts of the svirfneblin village, a long and rickety rope bridge guarded by three of the deep gnomes, wielding crossbows and shielded by heavy armor. As the party drew close enough to be seen clearly, the guards stepped forth and demanded something, their language foreign to the group. Keldorn asked if any of them could speak in the surface language, whereupon the gnomes glanced at each other, speaking amongst themselves. Finally, one of the three stepped forward and said in forced common, "You there, you who are there! Stand and identify yourself and your purpose!"

Keldorn stepped back, glancing to Greywulf to take lead. The sorcerer stepped up, raising his hands in as non-threatening a way as possible. The svirfneblin skittered back a second, eyes narrow, but they did not attack or flee. "You... you are leader of these? Speak and answer!"

"I am known as Greywulf... a sorcerer from the surface. My companions and I are not here for battle- we will not fight except in defense. Do you understand?"

"This is good." the head svirfneblin nodded, his diminutive frame bobbing as he nodded, slowly lowering his spear, as he took off the stone helmet he wore, letting his gray beard and hair slowly untangle from it's packed position inside the helmet. "Good, yes. Why do you come to the city of Blackenrock? Trading, like the dark ones?"

"Not exactly. We were told by the duergar dwarves that you might have information we seek."

"Hmm… so you are indeed not residents of this place." the gnome grunted. "Strangers you are then, and come to this place you should not. However, useful you may be, so we will letting you through be. Enter, but on your best behavior be. Go and speak to the Lord of our fair granite home. He will see to your well-being."

They bowed and passed by unscathed, though their trip over the old bridge was slightly tremulous. The ropes held however, and carried them safely to the other side of the chasm. Their surroundings gradually narrowed from open cavern to carved tunnels of rock and stone, forming walkways and actual structures, supported by pillars of sandstone and different rocks of great size and strength. They entered a great hall of many pillars, supporting the main cavern of the village. Many buildings and separate structures were underneath its cover, though most seemed to be abandoned and empty. This observation was supported as they continued through, seeing very few gnomes, naught more than one every twenty homes. The deserted feel was more than a little unsettling, but they continued, passing through the first great hall and making their way to a smaller cavern. The second was lined with statues of different images, perhaps gods of the gnome pantheon, perhaps heroes of old, they did not know.

It was only when Aerie recognized a few of the statues as gnomish gods and figures of legend that light was shed on the statues and their representations. They passed through one more archway of rock into a normal sized room, where what would pass for an office resided. Wood and stone chairs were scattered about, and one gnome in red and yellow linen stood before them, two guards flanking him. They entered, bowing before the gnome, treating him with all the respect warranted to the Lord of this realm. It was well received; a slight smile of appreciation crossed the wrinkled face of the gnome, as he motioned for them to rise. "Surfacers, is it? Welcome to our city of stone- it has been some time since any of your kind have passed through here. I am Goldander Blackenrock, the leader of this town. You are foreigners here, but you treat me with respect. To find such folk anywhere, but in the darkness of the Undercaverns is a rare thing indeed."

Keldorn glanced at Greywulf, smiling tightly. Good then, that he was remembering his manners. The gnome leader may have been polite, but it was still his realm and he was the master, not them. "It is an honor to stand before you, Goldander. Your town is truly a sight to behold."

"Your words are flattering, but it would be more so if my people still lived here. Do not tell me you failed to notice how empty our once proud home has become." Blackenrock said, a bitter tone entering his voice.

Imoen spoke, forcing a smile. "It did feel a little... deserted. Not that it doesn't look like a great place to live, y'know."

Goldander barked a laugh, and he walked over to Imoen, looking up at her from waist level. "You are indeed a surfacer, to speak so ignorantly. If there is nobody here, it means those who once lived have now died. That is the curse of this town, and the price of our greed."

He turned and stalked back to his small throne, seated himself, and leaned forward. "Now, what can this leader of the dead do for you? I fear if you seek supplies, we have already lost much of our stock to the drow or to those who have abandoned this place."

Greywulf considered his words carefully before speaking- the gnome's moods seemed quite fickle, and whatever had caused this desertion was still plaguing them. "Nothing of monetary value, Lord Blackenrock. We were told by the duergar dwarves that you might be able to provide some information we seek, concerning two surfacers who came this way. One was a wizard-"

"And the other was a nightstalker, a devourer of blood." Goldander nodded, tapping his large nose as he listened. "Yes, yes I do remember the ones you speak of. Why do you hunt them so fiercely?"

There was silence for a time; the question of whether it was prudent to give away such secrets of the god-children amongst them was debatable, but Goldander did not appear to rescind his question. Without warning Minsc spoke, taking them by surprise. "We hunt them because they are evil, and evil is as evil does! Which means that Minsc is as Minsc does, and that means butt-kicking!"

The gnome stared blankly for a second, but Greywulf did not miss the small glance Minsc shot his way, the sorcerer giving him a tight nod of appreciation. "If you say so, large one. But you will not find the surfacers so easily. They have passed within the city of the drow, Ust Natha. Now before you ask, I may know a way into the drow city. Well, I know a being that might help you. She could see you safely inside, but after that you would surely be dead. If such is the risk you would take, I will gladly point you in her direction. The great staircase on the path to Ust Natha goes to her lair. It is the blackest of all the tunnels, but there is glorious light on the other side. She is called Adalon by choice, though 'My Lady' will suffice just as well. Show respect and you will have it in return."

"What manner of creature is this Adalon?" Jaheira asked suspiciously. "Is she svirfneblin like you?"

"Oh, goodness no." Blackenrock seemed to recoil at the thought, though his reaction was not exactly comforting to the listeners. "She is a creature of great beauty, as you will hopefully see. She does keep very peculiar company though, more so than others of her kind. I'm sure she will see to your concerns if you approach politely... but I will not grant you entry to her presence. Not until you have repaid my own kindness and helped me in my own concerns."

"Restrict? Do you guard the entrance to her home?" Greywulf asked, eyes narrowing at being manipulated so quickly.

The gnome found the comment quite funny, and laughed, shaking his head before turning serious again. "Nay. The passage to her lair is guarded against intruders by a force of her design. It is the blackest of dark, preventing even the drow entry. Only a light gem that I possess will illuminate the way. Still, I will gladly give it to you should you help."

"We will help regardless. Please know that." Aerie reassured, feeling strangely at ease among the gnomes, despite her usual preference to stay in the background.

"Hah!" the gnome laughed. "You promise much, elf... but perhaps I mistrust too easily. Come... walk with Goldander and see what he speaks of."

The gnome stood and motioned for them to follow, leading the group deep past the throne rooms and great halls, remaining silent the whole time. They passed through tunnels and cavernous passageways, winding tracks and mining halls that had once been filled with gold and silver, now empty and converted to storage rooms for such riches. Finally, Goldander brought them to a cavern that was guarded by three svirfneblin, their spears always at guard and leveled towards the opening.

Blackenrock turned to the party and gestured toward the passage. "Do you see? This is our greatest fear... our bane. We would continue to fight it, but too much svirfneblin blood has been shed over this already."

"You saw how many of our clan has abandoned us- I sent them away. We are no longer safe, and it is our own fault." Goldander laughed bitterly. "Gold! Gems! Even the rarest of all, mithril, all at our mines, all at our fingertips... but we wanted more. We tunneled too deep and unearthed a monstrosity. A strange cavern that yielded death, a monster we have not seen outside of dreaming. The task I ask of you is simple to explain, but difficult in deed. I ask that the beast be killed if at all possible, and regardless of its death, the tunnel and cavern be collapsed with the beast behind it, dead or alive."

"Bring down the whole cavern?" Greywulf arched one eyebrow. "Just what are we dealing with here? Besides, why hasn't this thing escaped the cavern already if it's so powerful?"

"You doubt my words. You think the deep gnomes are weak and would falter under the force of the goblins or children of dwarves!" Goldander snapped, pointing a stubby finger at Greywulf. "You will see when you fight this monster... or you will die. The tunnel must be collapsed to ensure our safety; we have a Stoneshape scroll to use at the very center of the cavern, which will not only collapse the area, but seal it with magical wards from the inside, preventing all but the strongest of magics from leaving from the inside and out. It should be enough to contain the creature. I believe it is still weak from being awakened."

"A…awakened?" Imoen asked hesitantly, "Please tell me that you mean it was hibernating and not… otherworldly."

"As I said, it is a beast out of dreams… or nightmares, if you prefer." Golden said, folding his arms. "It is not of the rock, I do not know what to call it. Fire and shadow are its tools, and it has killed many of my warriors. I sent a squadron of thirty of our strongest fighters to combat it. Two came back, one dying from various injuries, the other insane with fear. Now that you know what I require, I ask you to decide. Will you help, or will I keep the way to Ust Natha for my own?"

The sorcerer turned back to the others, looking for any dissent or cause to refuse. They stood as one for the first time in quite a while, their faces resolute. He nodded, and then turned to Goldander. "Fair enough. We accept your terms."

"Where is this beast?" Minsc asked, standing tall. "We are most anxious to see if this beast can stand against the might of right!"

Goldander blinked once, his expression one of surprise, as though not expecting them to actually agree. Finally the gnome nodded, a smile of appreciation on his face. "I... thank you, surfacers. The beast is down this passage, at the center of the mining column. Here is the Stoneshape scroll I told you of. It is magically linked to the rock of the cavern, and if ignited at the very center of the rock, it will collapse the whole area within minutes. However, it will take some time to fully activate, which should allow you to escape the cavern with plenty of time if the beast is taken care of. If not… you must race him out. Above all, it must not escape!"

"He won't." Greywulf nodded, reaching out and taking the scroll. "We'll make sure of it."

Goldander inhaled, puffing his chest out, a glimmer of the Lord he once was shining through as he bowed. "Once the cavern is collapsed, I shall make it a forbidden area ever after. I thank you, surfacers. You do not know the good you do here."

As one, they started down the path Blackenrock had shown them. They glanced at the gnomes who were guarding the passage; as soon as the six were past they turned and ran, fleeing as fast as he could. They turned back to the gaping tunnel before them, dark and foreboding. Still, for them there was no escape. They entered the tunnel with weapons drawn and ready, hearts thumping as they traversed the passage.

Smoke and heat emanated from the darkness before them, but Greywulf summoned a magical light to guide their way, moving through the twisted paths of the rocks before them. A large crevice split the ground before them, a faint orange glow coming from it beneath their feet. It served as a light after a while, and so Greywulf's light was no longer needed. The heat became almost unbearable as they went further along their path- Aerie and Imoen both summoned magics of protection from fire, giving them slight relief from the intense heat around them. They finally came to what could only be the center of the cavern, a gaping hole amidst the center of a large cavern, no other passages coming from it except the exit they had come through. Old, half-melted mining equipment was scattered, the metal that was still unmelted sizzled and popped every few seconds, a high-pitched whine that gnawed at their hearing. Fire shot from the chasm before them every few seconds, scorching the ceiling of the rock, shaking the area with rumblings of darkness. Keldorn stepped forward reluctantly, his sword at guard position; neither hide nor hair of the beast present.

"What do you think?" Imoen whispered, standing next to her brother, as much for her own safety as to ask him a question. "Can you see anything?"

Greywulf peered around the room, trying to see anything to tell where the beast they looked for was. He could see nothing- his magic warned him of a deadly evil all around, but he could not find it. He stepped forward again to feel a crunch under his boot. He looked down, and through the steam that swirled around the floor he could see the charred bones and weapons of the svirfneblin that had fallen here before.

"This place is evil, Greywulf. I can feel it… an ancient malice… death lurks here, my friend." Keldorn said in hushed tones, yet loud enough for all to hear.

As though on cue, a new blast of steam erupted from the source of the crevice before them, heat driving them back from the opening despite their magical protection. A blast of flame followed after, swirling about the room. Darkness seemed to follow despite the light the flame provided. As the darkness and flame faded, a creature rose in unholy light, its monstrous wings sending it up from the pit to face them.

"Torm help us." Keldorn whispered breathlessly, hugging his sword tighter to himself as he looked upon the beast before them.

"By the gods, no… a Balor…" Aerie gulped, backing up slightly.

The red-bodied demon landed with a rumble, his demonic wings still outspread, making it seem bigger than it already was. Its horns curved around its face, acting as a mantle for the glowing yellow eyes and red fanged maw that adorned the terror that made up its head. The razor sharp claws it possessed swirled back and forth as it roared once, sending small pieces of rock falling from the ceiling of the cavern. It regarded them all once as a dragon would regard a goblin, or a kobold. A roar once again, then a step forward- its cloven feet smashed rock beneath as it challenged them.

Greywulf clenched his staff tight and shouted a cry of attack, the battle commencing. Minsc was the first attacker, leaping forward to swing both axes around from either side. The blades were mighty and would have cut deep, but the Balor swept his wings hard, jumping back just enough to put him out of Minsc's reach. As the ranger landed, off balance without the demon to block his forward progress, he was ill-prepared for the beast's counterattack, a mighty claw swinging forth and smashing Minsc against the rock wall. Claw marks had cut into his armor, two long gashes down Minsc's chest where armor had torn and been peeled away. The ranger looked alive, but already nearly unconscious from the sheer force behind the attack.

Aerie and Greywulf both unleashed magic spells, sending cold and light the beast's way, their elemental magics swirling around the fiery creature. It roared in defiance, then belched a blast of flame forth, pushing easily through the cold ray Greywulf had been maintaining and exploding at his feet. The explosion set Greywulf aflame as well as throwing him aside. Imoen's eyes widened as she saw the sorcerer thrashing about, trying to quell the flames that were consuming him; she conjured a Water cantrip, soaking her brother until the flames were extinguished. Still, it was too late by then. She turned back to find the Balor before her, having charged to within feet. It picked her up with both claws, clenching her shoulders as she tried to get away... but she could not escape it's gaze, the glowing yellow orbs that composed its eyes swirling as she felt herself falling into the void, her mind and will being pierced beyond anything her defenses could resist- the beast howled, throwing her across the room. She leapt up from the fall, but not to attack or dodge... she dropped her bow in terror, turning everywhere in an attempt to flee the horror inflicting itself upon her mind.

Another scream from the Balor... this time of pain. Jaheira's spear had caught it in the side, penetrating its rough hide and sticking deep enough for a trickle of blood to run down it's side, soaking its matted red fur with black blood. Jaheira yanked the weapon out, readying to strike again, but the Balor was too quick, sweeping one fist downward to strike Jaheira for her boldness. She leapt aside, rolling to the side before the blow could land. It tried again, and once more Jaheira leapt aside, this time coming up next to a rock wall. It lifted into the air through the power of its wings, coming down with one cloven hoof to squash her, and a third time Jaheira was forced to leap out of the way. This time it was from the opposite side- she leapt from her bad leg and there was no way in all the Realms she would be quick enough. The demon landed on the back of her legs, pinning her to the ground as she bounced with the impact, the whole room shaking. She moaned once before lapsing into unconsciousness, the Balor reaching down in victory, the claw ready to sever her head.

Before it could finish the job, a shout of righteousness and a cry to Torm erupted from behind the demon. Keldorn moved with all the speed the Gauntlets he wore lent, leaping high to land on the crouched demon's back. As he landed, he thrust the blade of Torm down with as much force as possible, impaling the creature's back and neck. It shook and screeched in agony, but for all it's flailing, Keldorn somehow managed to stay atop it, pushing the blade in harder and harder, all the way up to the hilt. Aerie had abandoned her assault in favor of trying to bring her comrades back to consciousness and ability, if only to retreat. Minsc was barely standing now as was Greywulf, though Jaheira still lay unconscious and Imoen still huddled in the corner in fear, trying to find a way to escape, unable to collect herself enough to use the exit of the cavern.

Still the Balor raged- it rumbled once and spread its wings and arms wide, magical energy swirling around him. Keldorn's eyes widened and he tried to pull his blade out and get away, but he was a hair too slow. The beast's flesh suddenly erupted into flame, surrounding it with a devilish halo and scorching Keldorn as he recoiled upon the back of the Balor. He pushed back the pain of the fire as he yanked the sword out and jumped aside, burn marks still evident on his exposed flesh. The creature turned to face all those who had gathered to fight him, and despite the black blood flowing from its back wound, it continued forward, slowed but not dead. Keldorn exhaled heavily, hefting his sword to attack again- Greywulf grabbed his arm, his face red with exertion and burns. "No! We have too many wounded- we must fall back, give ourselves time to recover. I will aid Imoen through magic, Aerie will revive Jaheira. Only fight enough to keep the creature busy until we can retreat!"

Keldorn nodded and with a growl moved forward, Minsc somehow on his feet again beside Keldorn. Greywulf stepped up to Imoen the thief recoiling at his presence. She tried to crawl away, but his magics took effect within seconds, the Remove Fear restoring her senses. Her vision unhazed, and though the fear still gripped her heart, she scooped up her bow and nocked another arrow, aiming for the creature's heart. Aerie had brought Jaheira back to consciousness- Jaheira leaned heavily on Aerie's shoulder as the two stumbled from the room, the druid crying out in pain each time her wounded leg felt the weight of her steps. Minsc roared a cry as he made another grand swing, enough to push the creature back for a second... and watch as the two warriors moved away, just far enough that Greywulf had them at his side, standing at the edge of the main cavern.

The Stoneshape scroll was raised high; Greywulf shouted the words upon them as the Balor screamed, and for a second, nothing happened. All was silent... the text began glowing, the scroll crumbling into dust. An earth-shaking rumble struck the cavern, the giant crevice in the room imploding on itself. Rock fragments, mining equipment and the skeletons of svirfneblin all flew down its gullet as it resealed itself. The Balor had not yet fully regained its balance after the last hit Minsc had dealt and was caught unawares as the magical force erupted. It roared as the magic attempted to fill the hole again with everything in range, including the bulky demon. It was swept back, sent flying through the maelstrom of dirt and rock; its claw reached out and snagged a stalagmite, trying desperately to keep itself from being taken- but to no avail. It was hit by a large boulder flying backward, knocking him away and into the whirlpool of magic, howls echoing as it disappeared into the enormous hole.

Keldorn and Minsc turned and bolted alongside Greywulf before the magical vacuum could catch them, chasing after the women who had already moved up the tunnel some ways. They caught up and stumbled through the collapsing tunnels, bits of rock falling around them, the crevice beneath them slowly closing, as the center of it filled. Finally, the exit of the caverns came within vision, easily before the time the cavern had completely collapsed and been warded. The sight of the exit spurred them on, and despite their various wounds, their pace quickened as they came closer. Without warning, a blast of flame erupted from beneath the rapidly shrinking crevice below them, stopping them in their tracks, the wall of heat blocking passage. The Balor flew up from the crevice before it closed completely, landing in front of them, its mouth drooling with blood and darkness. It knocked aside a quick thrust from Keldorn and with it the paladin, shrugged off a desperate magical bolt from Greywulf, and barely noticed an arrow from Imoen's bow land in its hide. It merely shrugged their quick blows away and advanced, keeping them from their exit, just beginning to show signs of closing.

"We cannot defeat it in time!" Aerie cried out as she tried another spell, coming to little effect.

"We must, or all is lost!" Minsc cried out, dodging one swipe to land both axes down on the Balor's arm. The twin axes dug deep- but not nearly enough. Minsc could not fell it despite his best attacks, nor Imoen with her bow-work and magic. A spell from Aerie was turned by a dark spell of its own; Jaheira chanted feverishly, trying to heal her allies and bless their bodies, unable to fight the demon again. As the sounds of battle continued, time seemed to slow around Greywulf, the man watching the exit beyond fill slowly but surely. Their time was limited... another few minutes, and they would all be trapped. Men, women, demons, the spell would care little who found themselves inside. The beast was large enough to block any attempts at slipping past him- his knowledge of teleportation spells was far too limited to attempt at such a dangerous battle. Even if they managed to make it out, the beast would follow right away and escape as well. The thought of the demon wreaking havoc and death upon Blackenrock's village brought back flashing memories of Brynnlaw-

_No. Never again._ Still- they had run out of options. Even as these grim thoughts slipped through his mind, the familiar voice he had learned to hate slinked into his thoughts, whispering, _**But there is. There is one more way. A way to escape, and destroy your opponent utterly.**_

Greywulf pushed the thought back, refusing to let his rage claim him, to turn into a mindless engine of destruction. The voice returned unbidden, _**You know I speak truth; Didn't I say you would need my aid? It is the only way. Let yourself change; become the avatar of murder you are! Release your anger, your murderous fury upon all you see! Take the power of Bhaal and let it consume your soul!**_

Greywulf gritted his teeth even as he jumped back from a magical flame shot at him from the Balor. They were running out of time, and he did indeed have one option left. It could destroy him and his friends… or it could save them. Keldorn had warned him of giving in to his taint, not the Slayer. Certainly the change to the Slayer brought him closer to losing himself in the end, but the change in itself did not do it. If he could take control as before, become Greywulf's mind in the body of the Slayer, if only for a few moments…

As they fought, Jaheira stumbled back from a close swing, turning to glance at Greywulf. She stared in confusion as she saw him standing still, looking at nothing in particular, only a look of anticipatory fear on his face. It suddenly changed to determination as he stepped forth and bellowed in a voice that was his and not his all at once, _**"THEN LET US BE ONE!!"**_

"No!" Jaheira heard himself scream, knowing what was to come. The swirl of darkness and blood-red mist engulfed Greywulf. All, demon and adventurer ceased to look in despair as the pillar of magic and evil billowed out, finally exploding in a blast of dark godly power. Greywulf was gone once again, and the Slayer had returned to take his place.

Jaheira's eyes blurred with tears as the beast of evil stepped forward, its teeth and claws clicking together impatiently, scanning the room with its monstrous maw open, the endless line of needle like teeth concealed in its mouth. She had been wrong, all that time. He was… evil. After all she had done, all they had been through, he had fallen to his taint, and… become the creature of death he had always been. She didn't want to believe it, but the way he stared at his friends as he came closer, there was no sign of life in those eyes, just murder and death. Keldorn apparently saw it too; he turned from the Balor to see the Slayer, his countenance falling to resigned despair. "I… I see I was wrong. I'm sorry, Greywulf. Forgive me."

The paladin bolted from the midst of his companions, one last charge. He brought his sword down, prepared for the oblivion he expected to come from one of the Slayer's mighty arms or spines, when a clawed hand came down and gripped his wrist in iron, stopping his blow short. He looked up in awe, to see underneath the rage of the Slayer's eyes… "Greywulf." Keldorn whispered, a tear falling from one of his eyes, hope springing fresh in his mind.

_**"Get… hurmmm…Get out!"**_ the Slayer screeched, only the faintest hint of humanity remaining in the voice. With that, it launched itself forward into the embrace of the Balor. The Slayer slammed the Balor into the wall cavern, right before the Balor whirled around to slam the Slayer into the wall instead, goring the Slayer in the shoulder with one of the horns encircling it's face. As the two beasts fought, the five mortals found it easy to slip past, leaping through the small passage that had once been a wide opening. They watched from outside, the battle raging between the two demonic figures. The Slayer screamed as a mighty fist pounded into its stomach, but the claws of the Slayer's four arms raked down the Balor's back, further opening the initial wound Keldorn had put there.

The Balor stumbled back, giving the Slayer an opportunity to pummel it mercilessly, fists and blasts of power slamming repeatedly into the demon's body and head. Dazed by the constant barrage of punishment, the Balor snarled a word in its monstrous tongue, igniting a spell of fire, throwing the Slayer back, though the beast remained mostly unharmed by the elemental attack. The Balor took the opportunity to launch itself forward, landing atop the downed Slayer, slamming it's head into the hard cavern floor again and again, the Slayer's arms flailing as it attempted to pry the larger demon off it, finally succeeding, though blood covered the Slayer's face when it finally stood again.

The Slayer gurgled once, black spit spewing to the ground- it feinted left and then went right, bringing its jaws to bite deep into the shoulder of the Balor, tearing a chunk of fur and flesh out. The Balor thrust one fist out to clutch the Slayer's head, lifting it up, its spined legs whipping this way and that, seeking solid purchase. The sound of fists slamming into scale and flesh again and again made the onlookers recoil in horror at the realization... the Slayer was not winning. It was not the powerhouse of undefeatable might it had been both times they had seen it before. Granted, it had never been against a foe of this power, but still- Imoen lurched forward but was held back by Minsc when the Slayer was thrown across the room, slamming into the cavern wall. "What's going on?!" she shouted, sweat and tears mixing on her face as she turned to Keldorn, transfixed by the battle. "He's... he's losing! We have to help him!"

It staggered forward, all four arms stretching, trying to entangle the throat and neck of the Balor, snaring it to throttle the life from it- the Balor flapped it's wings, bringing the Slayer up with him, higher and higher in the cavern- it stopped and aimed itself downward headfirst, bringing the Slayer in a nosedive to the ground. Rock fell from the room as the Balor emerged from the dirt and dust... holding the Slayer over its head. The Slayer's arms still beat and scratched at the Balor, but they were slower, weaker than ever before. The Balor howled, then slammed the Slayer down, upon a giant boulder, the sound of bones crunching echoing with the impact.

Still the Slayer did not stay down... it somehow got to its feet again, the Balor grunting in curiosity as its opponent pulled itself up, wavering and unsteady. It threw one fist toward the Balor's face, the other toward its chest- the Balor took the one to the chest, but grabbed the other fist with both hands, one at the forearm and the other at the bicep... the Slayer shrieked as the Balor snapped the arm. A cloud of dust shot up as the Slayer collapsed, the Balor howling as its foe finally fell. The fallen demon's head tilted upward, looking out to the five who still stood outside the rapidly closing cavern... it met their eyes, and they saw him. Greywulf.

_Greywulf curled up again, his body wracked with pain as he stared across from himself in the endless corridors of his mind. The Slayer was mirroring his position, also beaten and bloody. __**"Why?! Why will you... why won't you release us! We lose to this beast... we lose and we die! The Throne, the power... all of it!"**_

_"I know." Greywulf whispered, his voice hoarse and cracking. "I meant what I said last time. If I ever released you on this earth... I'd rather die than let you free. You finally get it now, don't you? We fight until the cavern seals. The Balor dies. You die. I die. That's how the tale of this Bhaalspawn ends."_

_**"No!!"**_

"He's not losing... he hasn't given it control. Not all of it. He's holding it back... not allowing it to unleash its full potential." Keldorn whispered in realization, Imoen whirling to face him.

"But why?!" she cried out, in tears. "He'll die!!"

"And... and he knows that." Keldorn swallowed, his mouth suddenly dry. "He's made one more sacrifice... the ultimate one."

_**"It... it will escape..." **__the Slayer's deep tones were barely audible, but Greywulf could still hear it. __**"If we die now, the beast will escape and kill those you call friend. They will die, and their blood will be on your head. Free me... let me go. Just to avenge our blood. If only that."**_

_Greywulf did not reply... but he thought of his companions. His family, those who had followed him for so long. Finally he looked at the beast, and felt his guard relax, his control finally fully slip away. "All right. There's no escape for us, or the Balor. Far too late for that... we're dead regardless. But not just you. Us. We do it together... let's take this thing to hell with us."_

The Balor stomped towards the cavern exit, the size of the hole just large enough for the demon to crawl through- Keldorn was stabbing with the Hallowed Redeemer, attempting to beat it back, but the demon could smell freedom; it would not be denied. A burst of flame drove the party back, giving it room to escape- it lurched as a clawed hand clutched its leg, yanking it back through the hole. The others' eyes widened in shock, they rushed to the opening to see the fight renewed with murderous fury. The Slayer was on its feet again, but this time... it was more than just the Slayer. More than Greywulf. The two fighting together, the humanity of Greywulf in the body of the Slayer. No resistance to the fury that the demon brought to bear, but a will of iron behind it. The wounds it had taken were still grievous, but it somehow pushed onward, striking again and again, forcing the Balor to feel all the wounds it had taken as well. The pair struck each other again and again, their evil ripping the cavern apart as it collapsed around them-

"Greywulf!" Imoen shouted inside the cavern, struggling to be heard over the thunder of their fists. "You need to get out now, before it's too late!"

Jaheira's voice interjected in a hollow, dead tone, "It's already too late… he is gone… the Slayer has taken him…"

"It's not too late, it's not!" Imoen shouted back. "Greywulf's fighting for us, can't you see that?"

"No, he is _not_!" Jaheira screamed, coming alive in anger. "Are you blind?! Can you not see?!! He is dead, and all that is left is the Bhaal taint! He fights out of bloodlust; if he escapes, he will kill us as well! Don't you understand? There's nothing left in there worth saving!!"

Imoen moved to respond- a new, unearthly scream broke out of the shrinking hole in the cavern wall, causing the two of them to turn and look. The two demons stood at each other's throats, both looking one step away from death. They were still, neither moving to attack- as one, both rushed towards each other. It was like a battle of dark gods- the Slayer's three good arms came together and clenched their fists in one massive hammer blow, aimed straight for the Balor's face. The Balor's fists crunched into the Slayer's chest... and as each impacted, the shockwaves threw them to the ground, each landing on the opposite side of the cavern. The Balor's head lay facing the party- the yellow light in its eyes finally faded, its life force extinguished.

"Greywulf?!" Imoen called, the Slayer's crumpled body leaning aside the cavern, whimpers and gurgles of pain emitting weakly from the demon. It fell to the ground, one claw reaching out and pulling itself along the rocky ground, further and further towards the hole- with a rush of light and magic, a flash ignited inside the cavern. They were all blinded by it, but Jaheira whirled around to look back, peering inside to see…

Aerie cried out in alarm- their friend now the one there, the Slayer imprisoned within Greywulf once more. The mage was on his stomach, lying a few feet from what had once been the cavern exit. Wounds covered his body and face; his robes were in tatters, and his left arm hung lay broken and useless. Rocks fell all around him as the cavern shuddered, dust swirling about his body. The hole they saw him through was a few feet above his head, an impossible distance to reach for the sorcerer. It was now barely big enough for a small child to fit through, much less an adult of six feet two inches. Even if he had been able to fit through there, he no longer had the strength.

He looked to them weakly through the dusty billows of smoke around him and raised one hand; a final good-bye to his comrades as the walls and tunnels collapsed all about him.

"No! Come on! You can make it!" Imoen shouted at the mage, so close yet unable to be reached. Imoen unleashed a blast of magic into the wall, but to no avail. The wards were raised, nullifying her spell.

His eyes met Jaheira's- her face was one of disbelief and shock. Her heart and beliefs were torn in so many ways; she did not know what was truth anymore. Their words echoed in her mind. _Can you protect me from yourself? _

_Yes. I can, and I will._ She met his gaze, and with a final smile, Greywulf mouthed three simple words. With that, the hole finally closed, sealing the wall as a final crack of magic sizzled down the split with a line of reddish-yellow lightning. He was gone.

"No… not now… not after all this…" Imoen sobbed, sliding down the wall to the cavern floor in despair.

Minsc rushed forward and slammed into the rock with both fists, unleashing screams of rage as he pounded against it again and again, his berserker wrath so strong… but not nearly strong enough. Aerie finally stopped the infuriated ranger with a hand on the shoulder, Minsc's fists bloody and bruised from the unmoving rock. His shoulders were slumped as he collapsed to his knees before the wall, defeated; Aerie wrapped her arms around him as she sat with him in tears, her body quivering and face buried in his shoulder. Keldorn said nothing, but turned away as his heart grew heavy, another friend added to those he had lost in battle, another casualty of the war against evil he had fought for so long. He frowned as he saw Jaheira stumbling away, her gait odd and uneven. "Jaheira…" he called hoarsely.

She turned back to glance at Keldorn, her face stained with tear marks, tracing the fading scars on her cheeks as new ones glimmered in her eyes. "He was… he was true. A friend. _Good_. And I… at his final moments… the last thing I said about him and to him… I cursed him. I betrayed him and dishonored his memory. I failed him… I did not see."

Keldorn walked to her and caught her as she collapsed in his arms, words spilling from her mouth in agony as she sobbed, "I did not see… Silvanus forgive me, I did not see…"


	62. Part 3: Graveyard Shift

_Author's Note: The prayer Minsc recites is a Viking funeral prayer. With some modifications, of course. Thanks for all the feedback on the last chapter; I really appreciated it! Without any further ado... let Part 3 begin! _

**Part 3: The Fulfillment of Destiny**

_Thunder. Echoes and shakings of rock and stone, felt miles from the source. It would have been described in the up-world as the aftermath of a storm, the thundering peals that followed lightning when the skies above made their fury known. Here, in the darkness under the world... it was not thunder. It was not the rage of the heavens. Not the power of the gods above... but the gods below._

_The world was a blur- everything was fuzzy and out of focus... no. Not everything- one thing was clear to all who watched. Evil. Evil was here. The world shook again, even as a red claw swung across its massive body, crunching bone and flesh and muscle as it impacted against the demon it fought. Rock and stone fell from the ceiling as the cavern shook, knocking the demon back, stumbling away from his opponent._

_A shout was heard from someone beside her- Jaheira turned to see Imoen screaming something to the man- demon- friend? Greywulf- inside the Slayer, fighting against the Balor that had cornered them. The escape tunnel was rapidly closing, trapping the two combatants within... just as he had intended. She could see that now. He had not betrayed them after all- but her words had still echoed through the chamber. She had still cursed his name. She had still abandoned him to his fate- she felt a tear slide down her cheek as the Slayer screeched, the two demons exchanging blows that would fell anything less than dark gods of their power. _

_But though they were gods... gods could still be felled. The Slayer clenched all three fists it could still use, the Balor snarled a curse in its own demonic tongue- the two rushed together, and in one terrible moment, both beasts flew backward, crushed under the power of their opponent. _

_Dead. Both creatures, the demon... and Greywulf. Lifeless, unmoving- but he didn't stop. Relentless. Crawling, unwilling to die, unwilling to give up, Greywulf came back, crawling and pulling himself toward freedom and life. The hole above him, still big enough for the sorcerer to fit, still enough for him to survive, if only by a thread of life. His hand extended towards her, his eyes pleading with her, begging for her to save him-_

_Jaheira felt herself turn, physically turning her back on him. Nothing her horrified mind could do helped; she walked away, just barely hearing the sound of the cavern close, sealing him in forever. "Jaheira?"_

_She broke down as she heard the cries behind her... "Jaheira?-_

"Jaheira!"

The druid flinched, starting forward as the insistent attempts to get her attention finally brought her from the subconscious nightmare she had trapped herself in. A nightmare, that's all. She hadn't turned her back on him- not physically. Jaheira looked up to see Aerie kneeling before her, the elf's face haggard and pale- much like her own, she was sure- but still managing to convey a sense of concern and worry for her companion. "We... well, Keldorn says we should probably get moving. I-It's been almost a day..."

"I know." she said, her throat dry. She swallowed, trying to relieve it- how long had it been since she ate? Drank? Not since yesterday, that much was certain. She hadn't slept. Too afraid of the nightmares that were sure to plague her when she finally succumbed to the grief she felt. No sense in trying to deny it... she couldn't hide from the guilt that burned her soul. Aerie glanced down, biting her lip as she pulled the waterskin from her pack, offering it to the closed-up woman. "Here... you look like you could use a drink."

"No." she refused it, shaking her head as she tried to push herself from the rocky ground to a standing position- only half-successful. She stumbled upon rising, trying to keep her balance- Aerie was much quicker, making it to her feet in time to steady Jaheira. "We... we did what you suggested." Aerie said, her voice cracking. "We stayed this long... just in case he found a way out- in case he survived..."

"But he didn't." Jaheira rasped. "He didn't."

Aerie's hand dropped from her, letting the proud druid stand on her own strength. Aerie fought back her own grief, the tightening of her throat as she tried to reason with her. "We haven't even talked with Goldander Blackenrock since the fight..."

"We need to get moving. I understand." Jaheira said, her posture straightening for a brief moment, a glimmer of her old self just barely shining through as she steeled herself against the dangers and the trials ahead- the glimpse was gone just as quickly as she shrunk once more, gesturing for Aerie to move on. "Go and tell Keldorn I am ready. I shall follow."

She took a brief glance back at the cavern wall that had sealed, the faint aura of magic just enough to prove evidence of the wards that protected it. A small pile of stones sat at the base of the wall... a grey cloak lay draped over it, and on the wall there was one rune carved into it- the letter G. The five companions, once six, stumbled back through the tunnels of the svirfneblin village, heading back to the deep gnome leader.

The paladin Keldorn, aged and weary of his labors, remained true to the group and brought them out, the new leader. Greywulf had come to him for advice so many times, trusted him in his counsel through many dangers and situations. Greywulf had given him the identity of his family's murderer, and Keldorn could not have been more grateful. And now he was gone.

Behind him followed Aerie, the young elf-witch they had rescued from the circus. It was Greywulf's decision to take her with them, and it was his encouragement that had allowed her to face life without her wings. He had lifted her from despair. And now he was gone.

Minsc stood behind her, Aerie's protector and ranger. Minsc had followed Greywulf for almost the mage's entire journey since Candlekeep, and was almost as devoted to the mage as to his hamster. He had ignored the warnings, the derision, the advice of everyone who had warned him against Minsc, calling him crazy, a lunatic who should have been killed or locked up. He had been one of Minsc's few true friends in the world. And now he was gone.

Imoen walked behind him, Greywulf's sister. She had recently discovered her own Bhaalspawn heritage, uncovered at the hands of Irenicus and Bodhi. Her soul had been stripped from her, her mind shattered by Bodhi. It was Greywulf who had healed her thoughts, freed her from captivity and gave her hope of reclaiming her soul once again. He had been her childhood friend, the two of them each other's constant in their ever-changing worlds. And now he was gone.

Jaheira walked behind, and alone. The Harper Greywulf had learned leadership from, teaching him through his whole travels. They were friends, and could possibly have been more. Jaheira had lost faith in Greywulf at the end, believing him lost to the darkness in his taint. He had shown his purity in his final moments, and Jaheira had discovered her folly, too late. The last words that Greywulf heard her speak were cursing him, throwing his memory and any faith in his redemption away. His last words to her were 'I love you'. And now he was gone.

They finally reached the hall of stone that the svirfneblin village leader dwelled in, awaiting their return. Blackenrock approached them with a broad smile, though one of his bushy eyebrows was arched in surprise. "You are welcomed back... we had worried for your safety as though one of our own was in danger. We heard the rumblings of your battle, though it is to my shame we did not come to see if you had survived. Our warriors were ready to defend ourselves should the beast have escaped... but it is unimportant. I am glad to see you all alive. Although… six of you went to battle, yet five of you come back. Where is the man whom I gave the scroll to? Where is your… 'Greywulf'?"

Nobody said anything for a few moments; nothing really needed be said from the looks of the five party members. Goldander bowed his head, raising one hand. "I understand. Please accept my deepest regrets... it was our folly, yet it was one of your own whose blood was shed."

"He… he was lost after collapsing the tunnel." Keldorn uttered, glancing back the way they had come. "It was he who fought the demon back, sacrificing himself in order for us to escape. Without him, we would all have been trapped inside that accursed tunnel."

"It will bother you no more." Jaheira whispered harshly, anger and sorrow twisting her normally pretty features. "Please… deliver what you have promised, so that we may leave this tomb."

"Yes, and with all haste." Goldander said, pulling a gem of inner radiance from his pocket, along with a number of potions. "I will not delay your own goals a second longer. Here, take these healing potions and this light gem for your reward. With this you will be able to pass the great stairs and enter the lair of Adalon. Still... you have many wounds, of both physical and emotional source. I am sending word to our people that they may return to our village since the beast has been killed- if you wish to remain here among us for a day and night longer, we would offer you the best beds and quarters we have to offer. Anything you need."

Keldorn glanced to the others, taking a breath as he weighed the options. "Another night of rest would do us all good. I recommend that we remain here as he suggests."

Aerie nodded, Minsc holding the elf around the shoulders as he acquiesced as well. Keldorn looked at Imoen, then Jaheira, the two who had been affected the most by Greywulf's death. "Imoen? Jaheira?"

"Do whatever you wish." Jaheira said quietly, turning from the group and stalking back toward the tunnels of the rock-city. Imoen managed a smile and a quiet 'yes' before turning and following suit with Jaheira. Keldorn bowed his head, then turned back to Blackenrock, managing a weak apologetic smile. "Please forgive them... we would be honored to accept your hospitality. We will take our leave tomorrow morning."

Even as the other members of the party spoke with Goldander about the arrangements to be made as well as inquiries concerning the city of Ust Natha, Imoen found herself alone in one of the several empty homes branching off the caverns of the nearly abandoned town, the thief-mage tossing her pack aside as she found what looked like a bed of sorts. She pulled herself onto the bed, folding her legs as she inhaled and exhaled in sequence, trying to calm herself, desperately attempting to keep her composure... and failing. She bit her lip, trying to keep the tears from falling, but it was no use. Her head was in her hands, Imoen crying bitterly as she clutched at her pack, pulling it open and rummaging through it. The tears slowed as she finally found what she was searching for- she pulled out a small frame, running her thumb over the magically indwelt picture within.

It was a portrait of the six of them; the original six- the group in one of their few moments of peace. Dynaheir stood in the back middle, her palms up with small flashes of magic in her hands, a wry smile on her face. Khalid and Jaheira flanked her on either side, the two looking stately, proud, and wise. Minsc knelt in the front, a grin on his face with Greywulf and Imoen hanging on either side of the big ranger, their clothes mussed and ruffled in wrestling with Minsc just moments before the image was captured. She traced the lines and faces of the group, stopping as she looked at Dynaheir, then Khalid... then Greywulf. The joy on his face as the six of them enjoyed that brief moment of companionship-

She felt a throb of pain grip her heart as she realized- she would never see him again. Never hear his laugh, never feel him grip her hand when she was frightened, give her that look of encouragement that everything would turn out okay, that she wasn't alone- but she was, now. The others were still with her, true... but now she was the only Bhaalspawn. He had always been there... she'd never had to go on without him, with the exception of her time at Spellhold... she'd hated that time more than any other, and now he was gone again, this time for good-

She felt herself break down again, and she clutched the portrait tightly to her chest, falling over on the bed and weeping alone... truly alone.

X X X X X X

_One hour after the party had taken their rest for the night._

It was... odd. Unusual, to say the least. Looking at the cavern, there was little evidence that an event of such great import and such heart-wrenching emotion had taken place here naught one day prior. Still, the wall that composed Greywulf's tombstone was smooth and unmarked, the only exception being the rune the party had carved upon its surface. No flags marking the graves of soldiers that had fallen in battle, no holy water sprinkled to sanctify the ground where demons had fought. No memorial for the hero who lay beyond. Only the small pile of stones and the cloak laid aside in remembrance. It was... unfitting.

The tunnels were enormous, and there was little that could not be heard, hundreds and hundreds of feet down the cavernous walls. The footsteps approaching the site were no exception- they were heard long before the approaching figure made himself known. Still, the torches that now lined the once forbidden tunnel flickered with the passage of the large ranger, the shadows dancing here and there as Minsc stopped, standing before the wall with reverence. The Rashemani ranger ran one hand over the rock wall, almost as though testing to see if it was truly as solid as it had proved when attempting to beat it down in his berserker fury... but it was as solid as ever. Minsc glanced down at the small pouch on his belt, looking for the usual face of his mentor... but Boo was not there. Minsc sighed... Boo was in mourning as well. He understood.

The ranger knelt down, seating himself, his back to the cavern wall. He frowned, slightly unsure of how to begin... just that it was the right thing to do. He thought for another few minutes, then spoke. "Minsc remembers the first battle we fought together, you and him."

He cleared his throat, shifting the armor he was still wearing so it would be slightly more comfortable as he sat, his somber face slowly curling up in a content smile as he went deeper into memory. "It was... it was outside of Nashkel. The bandits and thieves outside the town came from their evil little hiding holes and demanded our money or our heads! Heheh... but Minsc knew right away who would be losing their heads that day, right Boo?"

The hamster poked its head out just slightly, snuffling as though beginning to take notice of what the ranger was saying. Minsc watched the animal emerge, scratched its head absentmindedly, then continued, glancing behind him at the rock wall. He thought of the incident he spoke of, his smile growing with each thought. "You did not think Minsc could lift such men and throw them as far as we did, eh? No... we showed you... we offered to teach you how to throw villains like the mighty Minsc and Boo too! Ah... but you were content to watch us. We were... we were not always the pair you know."

Minsc slowed, his words coming more thoughtfully as he finally turned his attention to what he had originally, really meant to speak of. "Eh... Rashemen was a wonderful place, lots of snow and ice and the occasional horde of orcs to fight and battle... but a young man was nothing without the Lodges. You know I was on my dajemma to join the Ice Dragon Berserker Lodge... the greatest of all lodges in my homeland. Minsc refused to join anything less- and to join, I had to prove myself a hero beyond all doubt! I had to protect Dynaheir... had to protect-"

His voice caught for a moment, the ranger shaking his head as he frowned, a small tear dropping from his eye. The ranger brushed it away, then continued. "You gave us a chance. Minsc and Boo and Dynaheir... we tried to join others, but none would take us. None would let us join them for glory and honor... none but you. You took our side. Even when Dynaheir was murdered... you gave us the opportunity to redeem ourselves. We failed Dynaheir... and now we feel as though we have failed you. But you would tell us that is not so."

Minsc exhaled deeply, finally coming to what he had been trying to say all along. "Thank you. Minsc owes you his honor, and everything else he has gained. I only wish I could have saved you when you needed it most."

The ranger stood, turning to the wall where his friend now lay. He unsheathed the Sword of Chaos from its place, looking up and down the blade. It glimmered in the darkness, just illuminated by the small torches placed upon the path leading there. He walked to the small pile of stones they had made and with a grunt of effort, thrust the sword down into the ground, the blade cutting through rock with its enchanted edge and his massive strength, finally stopping halfway up the blade. Minsc checked his axes to ensure they were still attached securely, then took one final look at the Sword of Chaos. He bowed his head and whispered up a prayer:

_Lo, there do I see my father._

_Lo, there do I see my mother._

_Lo, there do I see my sisters_

_and my brothers._

_I see the line of my people_

_back to the beginning._

_They do call to me to take my place_

_in the halls of Rashemen_

_where the brave may live forever._

He turned from the chamber and left, his heart and soul finally at some measure of peace.

X X X X X X

_Two hours after the party had taken their rest for the night._

The rocks and stones along the path to the chamber of destruction crackled and echoed with every step she took, anointing her journey with a sound she was unaccustomed to hearing when she walked. Elves were quiet, stealthy... but once more, another proof that the Underdark was just not a place for her or her people. Of course, had it been her choice now, she would never have come to this wretched place... never have come had she known what the price would have been.

Would he have changed his mind, knowing the sacrifice he would make, though? Would he have given up the hunt, abandoned their quest, or stayed on Brynnlaw and faced the Githyanki to find another way? No. She could not help but smile at the memory of his determination. No. He would not have. The sound of another pebble snapping against the wall as her boot sent it ricocheting made Aerie glance behind her, hoping she had not awoken anyone who was seeking the cause of the noise. When rising from the room she had been given to sleep in, it seemed as though everyone else had been sound asleep... still, this was something she had to do. Alone-

The rocky wall came into view; Aerie swallowed, trying to find the words, the strength... she stepped forward, one foot at a time until she was directly in front of the cavern wall and the memorial laid out there. Her heart thudded fiercely; Aerie tried to still herself, to remind herself what she was doing and why- and after a few moments of internal struggle, she spoke.

"I never... I never told you this. I w-wish I had, now... so much I wish I'd said. But now you're gone... and I hope it's someplace better. Someplace where you don't have to deal with the taint... where you can take rest in what you've earned..."

Aerie stopped, trying to find what she'd really meant to say. So hard... why? Could he even hear her? She could almost hear his voice, what he would have said in response to her question, and she smiled. _"It doesn't matter... just speak your heart."_

"You helped me so much... you brought me through everything and more." Aerie began, her eyes dropping to the blackened rock below her. "But that's not... that's not why I cared for you so much... why I loved you. Not once-"

Aerie felt her throat constrict, and even though her eyes welled up, she fought past it and continued. "Not once did you give up on me. Even when I'd given up, when everyone else had too... you didn't. You believed in me no matter what. I'll never forget that... and now I'll never be able to thank you for it. This is the best I can do... and it's not enough. But thank you. Thank you for loving me... loving me despite my flaws, and my doubts, and my insecurities."

Aerie placed one hand in the folds of her robes, withdrawing a glimmering vial, wider at the bottom than to so it could rest easily. It flickered with the meager light, reflecting the slightest strobes of light into an explosion of beauty inside the enchanted glass. She knelt by the memorial and placed it gently beside the rocks, it's seemingly fragile beauty in sharp contrast to the hard surroundings, but as Aerie's hands left it, the vial remained still, radiating the same light and life it always had. "This was given to me when I first devoted myself to the worship of Aerdrie Faenya... it is like the glass of our art but enchanted with the spells of our Seldarine goddess. It is the one thing I still carry with me from my home... "

She thought it would have been hard to leave the item which she had carried with her for so long... but to her surprise, there was no regret. No second-guesses. She stood upright, looking back at the small, glittering vial once more. "May its light and beauty be a comfort to you... wherever you are. Goodbye, Greywulf. We won't forget you."

X X X X X X X

_Three hours after the party had taken their rest for the night._

A figure stood at the memorial cavern, his figure steady and tall in the torch light. Like the man himself his shadow, his form was unwavering, unshakeable. Keldorn had stood there for almost five minutes, quiet, never saying a word. His eyes were closed, his body stock still, barely moving with each breath he took. To a casual observer he may have appeared asleep on his feet- to someone who knew the man there was no question as to what his task was. His eyes opened, his prayer completed.

One final thing... Keldorn knelt and whispered the words to his pleas, calling upon the might of Torm and the blessings he offered his servants... Keldorn opened his eyes once again and smiled. The area glowed with the power of Torm, an aura of righteousness to repel all who would try and desecrate that ground. There was still much to do... finding Irenicus. Regaining Imoen's soul, leading them through the perils of the Underdark... but for now his work was done. And inside, if only to himself, Keldorn wondered if the same was really true of Greywulf.

X X X X X X X

_Four hours after the party had taken their rest for the night._

She looked behind her again, the third time in as many minutes. Knowing her, one might have expected it to be sheer caution, checking for enemies or a companion who had followed her to the gravesite. Not in the least- her thoughts were nowhere near such things. Even though she was here to make her peace, to say what she needed to say, to get the weight and burden of guilt off her chest... she couldn't help it. Every thought was punishing, every word an accusation towards herself. Tears fell within her heart as there were none left on the outside to shed.

She looked back toward the memorial, sadness and barely suppressed emotion in her green eyes. "I don't know what to say." she managed, stepping forward to lean against the cavern wall with one hand. "Not what to say, what to think. Perhaps I have not known for some weeks now. To think of what you really... truly, meant to me."

"I knew how you felt about me... but I never gave you that same honor. That same honesty- never once." she said bitterly, not towards him but towards herself. "You loved me. That's what you said, in here. Love..."

She could not help but chuckle without humor, shaking her head with remorse. "I spurned you. Both in friendship and in love- but you knew. My words were like glass to you, weren't they? Whatever excuses I made, whatever lies I told, even if I believed them myself... you saw the truth behind them. Why did I lie then?"

Almost a full minute passed before she spoke again. "I don't know. I really don't know- at first it was too soon. Far too soon after Khalid... but time heals the worst of wounds, and it was you... it was you who did so much healing upon me. You who made me see... made me see what I had blinded myself to."

"And for all you did, you never made a demand of me. Never forced a demand on my shoulders, never asked anything of me... save one thing. You asked what I ask myself now... did I- could I have loved you?"

Jaheira's face tightened as she wrenched herself away from the gravesite, unwilling to face it. "I... I still don't know. Not now. My heart hurts- I am so full of anger, and despair, and grief... damn Irenicus. Damn him, this is all his doing-"

She spun and turned back to the cavern wall, a smoldering fury in her eyes. "I will avenge you. Your blood, Khalid's blood... it is all on his head. I will bring him to the grave for this. I swear it to you... I swear it-"

The anger drained from her as the moment faded, and once more she was left with the aching loneliness and pain she had felt since seeing Greywulf consumed by the cavern's collapse. She shivered in the cold air, wrapping her arms around herself. She leaned over, preparing to leave- she stopped, turning back one last time. She raised her fingers to her lips, kissed them gently, then placed them on the wall, just above the G-rune, his last words still ringing in her head.

_I love you..._

X X X X X X X

_Four hours after the party had taken their rest for the night._

They couldn't understand. None of them, not really. They were his friends. A long-time mentor. A gentle giant. An elven maiden. A noble paladin... but they weren't like her. She was his sister. Blood. His companion since either of them could remember. She trembled with each step she took, moving to say her final goodbyes. A part of her screamed at her to go back, not to accept this... but it had to be done. He was gone, and he wasn't coming back- Imoen nearly screamed at the thought, but she forced herself onward yet again.

They couldn't know. None of them- couldn't know how it felt like a piece of her was missing, like there was a hole in her heart that could never quite be filled again. There was never a time Imoen could remember not having Greywulf at her side- and facing the rest of her journeys, her life, without him... it was unimaginable. She owed him everything... her sanity, her freedom, her life... she'd always taken him as a constant in her world. No matter who died, who fell or who stumbled on the way, it wouldn't be one of them. They were the two, the unbreakable pair. If Spellhold wasn't enough to keep them apart, surely the Underdark couldn't do any worse...

But it had. It had done much worse. Imoen rounded the last corner, her will faltering already- until she saw it. Imoen's eyes widened in surprise, until a tearful smile crossed her face. She caught a glimpse of Jaheira kneeling by the memorial they had made, placing a kiss upon her fingers and then the rock below. She saw it all, the full scope of those who cared and those who fought and bled and died with him. Minsc's sword. Aerie's vial. Keldorn's blessing. Jaheira's love. Maybe... maybe they did understand.

She stepped out, slowly coming to Jaheira's side, supporting the druid as she supported Imoen; the two who had loved him and known him most standing together, their strength enough for the moment. Enough for now, and with any luck, enough for the future. As the pair left, one last item adorned their memorial... a small, magically indwelt portrait. Six companions lay within, their faces bright and hopeful and full of life. And for the first time since their friend, leader... and for her, brother... had died, Imoen did not feel alone.

Behind her, the portrait shone.


	63. Part 3: Into the Breach

The snap of a small pebble click-clacking down the stairway of infinite length echoed to and fro, reverberating far longer and louder than any present would have liked. Keldorn tightened the grip he held on the Hallowed Redeemer, but swallowed any fear that threatened to rise up within him and motioned for them to move onward. "We cannot delay... the longer we remain here, the greater chance of a drow patrol spotting us."

They had departed the village of Blackenrock earlier that day, making a move for the lair of Adalon, just as they had intended. As promised, Goldander had provided them with the light gem they needed to pass the darkness that blocked their path; even holding it aloft now, it barely illuminated the beginnings of the cavern that housed the one they sought.

But regardless of the danger or misgivings they might've had, there was really no going back. Blackenrock's village would not be a safe haven for long, and if they were to follow Irenicus and Bodhi, they would have to find passage inside Ust Natha that did not involve a coffin. Thus they found themselves placing their trust in an unknown being, a passage in the dark, both figuratively and literally. Jaheira glanced behind them as they moved, the meager light of the upper paths slowly vanishing as they headed deeper and deeper into the void below. They were close to Ust Natha... too close, for her tastes. Still, she suppressed a shudder and tried to keep her attention focused on the present.

She glanced ahead of her and caught Imoen's eye; the thief gave her a weak smile, one that was an obvious attempt to comfort and strengthen, even as she drew that same strength from Jaheira. The two had shared an unusual moment of bonding the night prior- and as much as Jaheira hated depending on others for her own weakness, she found comfort in the fact that she was not alone in her grief. But grief had its place, and so did mourning. Those times were gone... they had to be gone if they were to survive. She forced any thoughts of self-pity or regret away, steeling her mind and eyes as they came continued their descent. It was a narrow, winding staircase they walked, the steps rough and carved of granite in past ages. There were even curves and sharp turns in the path, making the road more dangerous than it would have already been. No, without the light gem Goldander had lent them, it would've been a fool's errand to try and reach the bottom. Whoever this Adalon was... she liked her privacy.

A brief rumble echoed up to their position, causing a few pebbles to dislodge from the ceiling, raining dust and debris. Minsc looked up, then down towards the bottom of the staircase, undoubtedly there, if not visible. "Boo does not have a good feeling about this..."

"I think I agree with the little guy." Imoen shivered, drawing an arrow from her quiver as they walked. "Whoever this Adalon person is, couldn't she have made her home a bit more... welcoming?"

"In the Underdark? We're lucky she doesn't have mind flayers and drow guarding it." Keldorn tossed back. "No... whatever bad impressions we feel may be simply due to our surroundings... I sense no darkness below. Rather... great light. Great light, and great good. It is... curious."

Keldorn's words were taken with just a hint of reluctance as the paladin quieted, moving quicker, as though eager to reach the bottom and see the source of this anomaly. Minutes passed, and finally there was an end to their travels. The stairway flattened to a cavern of enormous proportions. There was a pool off to the side with what seemed like a large worn spot in the rock next to it, almost as if something had lain there enough to wear it down. In the far back there was a door made of a large boulder... and a rock nest beside it. Something about the layout of the cavern was alarmingly familiar...

"We've... we've been here before." Aerie whispered, taking a step closer to Minsc.

"No... not here. Someplace like it." Jaheira shook her head, racking her mind for the memory they all sought-

"Firkraag." Keldorn intoned, doing an excellent job of letting any anger show at the dragon's mention. Still, the word brought the memories flooding back: the cavern where Firkraag dwelt was uncannily similar to the one they found themselves in now. Another rumble caused the whole cavern to vibrate... Aerie looked at Keldorn whose eyes slowly began tilting upward, beginning to understand where their host was... and what it was-

The sound of mighty, flapping wings unfolding and beginning their movements created a great wind, tossing dust and gravel away as a great shadow covered them all. Descending from above like a deity of the heavens, a great beast alighted upon the floor with grace unexpected in such a massive form. She unfurled her wings, stretching against either side of the cavern. A glint of silver shone all about her scales, and in her long tail, spines of great beauty running down it. Her eyes glinted with blue, power unmistakable running through every inch of her reptilian body. Before them stood a dragon of silver, great in both beauty and power.

"Welcome, welcome to my lair." Adalon boomed, her regal voice echoing through the whole area. "I have watched your progress with great interest... great interest indeed."

"My lady, you are... a drake of silver. One of the shield dragons." Keldorn said, kneeling before her, the whole group struck in awe by the light and power of the dragon before them. "You honor us with your words."

"I'm sure I do, but flattery is not why I allowed you to come here." Adalon said, her long neck craning down to look at the five travelers closer. "Do not think me too generous; I am not as tolerant, nor as patient as others of my kind. I am Adalon, the guardian... and I have selected you five to be my champions."

"Champions? I don't understand-" Aerie began, before Adalon turned her neck towards the Avariel, her eyes glittering as the two talons at the top of her wings twitched. "Surface elves and humans... it has been some time since I have encountered any of your kind. Still, my needs must come before any partiality I may have about your kin. Whatever your race... all of you must serve."

"You ask much, my lady... but we know little." Keldorn said, searching for polite yet proper questions. Adalon was no ordinary silver dragon... her demeanor, her temperament; all were far less welcoming, less hospitable than others of her race. Whatever she asked of them... it would undoubtedly be in their best interests to aid her. "Please, tell us what you require."

Adalon eyes Keldorn for a few brief seconds... then straightened her neck, resting back upon her haunches as she snapped her jaws open and shut once, the frill running down the back of her neck swaying just barely. "Very well, paladin. Tell me, do any of you know where we are?"

The question took them all by surprise... it was fairly straightforward upon first glance, but with the frosty demeanor of the silver dragon before them, none there truly wanted to risk earning her ire. Still, she had asked a question, and it would not do to let silence linger in the air for too long. "We are close to Ust Natha... I have heard it is a city of some import in the Underdark." Aerie finally voiced, the elven cleric trying to remember the lessons of her heritage and history.

Adalon nodded, the mercury colored pupils of her eyes flickering as she blinked. "Indeed. As Ust Natha is below, my charge is above. I have done my duty as well as I have been able for many a century- even though I was not the first, I still know the history. There exist elven ruins above, an ancient temple that marks the gateway to the Underdark. There are others elsewhere, but this was the first."

"The first what?" Imoen asked quietly, entranced and in awe of the mighty creature of light before her.

"The temple marks where the elves of dark hearts first descended, truly separating from Elven kind and becoming drow." the silver dragon seemed disgusted by the thought, or perhaps the memory, but she wagged her sinewy neck back and forth before continuing. "The drow keep the outpost of Ust Natha here as a symbol, one that is fought over regularly, though I have governed over the hostilities and seen peace for decades at a time. A strained peace, one of little more than sticks and stones rather than strength of any sort... but peace nonetheless. I am the guardian of that peace. For almost four centuries I have watched and waited..."

"What happened?" someone cut her off... perhaps it was Aerie, or maybe Imoen... no one really remembered who had been the speaker, only that it had been the wrong thing to say. Adalon whirled to the party, her head arching upward as gouts of white and blue flame rose from her mouth, freezing the cavern ceiling as ice and lightning jumped to and fro. Her roar was terrible, one that inspired fear in her enemies... and quite possibly her allies as well.

"Silence!!" Adalon roared, her full wingspan spreading out as she rested on her hind legs, those glittering eyes filled with wrath. Those reptilian nostrils flared, but the group was not so foolish as to antagonize a silver dragon- they acquiesced immediately, letting the dragon's anger cool. "_I_ will tell you when you may speak. This is a VERY important matter, and I will not be interrupted."

"Yes, my lady." Keldorn said, motioning for the others to keep quiet.

"The drow respected the borders of this place for centuries, only venturing out for sport and small skirmishes. That was the balance, and I kept it stable, from both elven and drow attempts at extending their own spheres. The two you seek, this Bodhi and Jon Irenicus, I believe they have made a deal with the drow for their own safe passage and offered a way to tip the scales against their elven enemy."

"Forgive me, Lady Adalon, but how did their malice escape your notice? Surely your power allowed you to sense them before they arrived." Keldorn asked.

"The drow attempt such treacherous plots with the passing of each day- I foil them only when it seems they might truly succeed." Adalon growled, wrath beginning to reflect in her posture and tone once more. "But these two... this vampire and this miserable human... they violated my lair and stole what was most precious- my eggs, my young. They were stolen from me and the threat of their destruction keeps my furious anger at bay."

"Vile creatures! Such a crime is unimaginable, and I can imagine quite a bit, let me tell you-" Minsc began to shout, before Keldorn hushed him again.

"This atrocity... this theft is the final straw in the long list of blasphemies I have been witness to." Adalon continued, eyeing Minsc with obvious irritation. "This is where you five come in... you seek my aid. You hunt this Irenicus. You will never enter Ust Natha alive without my help. I can aid you in all this and more... if you retrieve my eggs. Bring them back to me, and I shall give you everything you seek in this endeavor. A way into Ust Natha, a way after Irenicus and Bodhi... a way out of the Underdark."

"My lady, we would aid you even without reward." Keldorn said, still kneeling before the mighty dragon.

"Very noble, paladin, though I have had many a person give up on such vows before." Adalon said with narrowed eyes, her scales glimmering with bitter memory. "My term here has soured me on the company of non-dragons- still, do not think I am ungrateful. You will have all the aid you require to see to your success. I have an inkling of how you may enter the city with subtlety... though I will need to consider it further. You will need to plan for when you do enter- wandering aimlessly within the drow city will be as disastrous as assaulting it directly. Today we will plan, and tomorrow, you will enter the city."

"Then we shall do as you ask. What was yours shall be returned... we swear it." Jaheira answered, standing before the dragon.

Adalon's jaws curled back in a reptilian smile... she leaned down, facing the party at eye level. "Indeed. Believe me when I say that you will not wish to see my wrath should you fail, or worse, attempt to betray me. Perhaps you think me harsh, but I will brook no treachery or deception. If my eggs are harmed, Ust Natha will burn and so will you... do not let it come to that."

X X X X X X X

Irenicus sat alone, silent as he drew upon his strength, preparing for the coming battles. He felt anticipation creep into his form, his body tightening with excitement for what he had been awaiting- no. He pushed it away, returning to the cool, collected mage he needed to be. The battles he would fight were dangerous; he would be fighting the very strength of Suldenesselar. The greatest warriors of the elven race. And the thought of crushing them under his heel... his eyes flickered open, a feral grin crossing his features. Forget it.

He had been denied this for too long... and he would enjoy it to the fullest. "Brother... it is time."

Bodhi's voice turned Irenicus, his own expression of triumph only grew with the vicious hunger upon Bodhi's pale features. He strode to her, his tall frame overshadowing hers as he clenched one fist, black flame surrounding it. "Then let us be off. The time of reckoning is upon us... let them fear our coming as the herald of a new dawn."

"A dawn drenched in blood." Bodhi whispered back... Irenicus' emotions flying through him, the mage allowing himself to let go for the first time in so many years, to let all his memories and all his hatred rise up to the surface-

_"Truly, your talents surpass all our mages- your presence is a blessing to us in more ways than we can number." the elderly elven sage Tathar Melwasul,, so old and wise he showed the signs of age that elves so rarely did, smiled gently at him, his words filling him with a sense of pride. Was he worthy of the accolades brought on upon him by this most respected and revered member of the high elven council? The elf chuckled, "I sense your hesitation. Believe me when I say there has never been a mage so powerful as you among our ranks- even Ellesime herself would be hard pressed to deny your superiority."_

_Ellesime- that name quickened his pulse and shortened his breath- how could he be anything more than a speck to her magnificent being? He was unworthy of her notice, much less the adoration he so much wished to pour at her feet... but this man, his mentor for dozens of years, said differently. Perhaps... perhaps he would have the opportunity he had sought for so long after all-_

_"I am proud to have taught you... you will go on to great things." he felt Tathar rest his hand upon his shoulder. "Of that, there is no doubt."_

_**"This abomination must not be tolerated amongst us! His magics are corrupt, a twisted, perverted sacrilege of all we hold dear! A curse upon our city, upon our way of life, upon our people!!" he heard the anger, the fury coming from the trembling old elf as he pointed a finger at him, his arms and legs bound with magic that his weary form could not break. He stood before the high council, or at least those who yet lived, each and every one bringing their accusations to bear, the trial open for all to see. "If not for Ellesime, he would have destroyed us all... believe me when I say there has never been a greater threat, a greater curse than this one before us today."**_

_**A roar of anger and approval came from the crowd gathered around- there was no mercy or pity from any side. It filled him with fear- what he had done was wrong, perhaps... but the blood they demanded, the punishment they cried for was disproportional to his crime. Hearing his mentor speak so darkly of him brought shame... shame and bitterness to his heart. **_

_**"I am ashamed to have been a part of his teachings... he is the greatest mistake we have ever made." Tathar said, exhaling heavily as he finished his words. "Of that, there is no doubt." **_

_"Brother... might I have a word?"_

_He turned, glancing over towards his sister, the blonde elf, her small frame sideling up to him from seemingly nowhere. No, he amended; it was not so much her stealth as his lack of attention. His thoughts were on Ellesime, as always. His love. His joy... it was hard to focus on anything else when she was near. He turned to the Queen, bowing and preparing to ask-_

_"No need. I understand your duties in the royal court have kept the two of you separated for some time." Ellesime smiled. "Please, take some time to speak with her. You and she are kin... never let such things go neglected."_

_He smiled, entranced by her words... his sister cleared her throat, and he tore his gaze away from the Queen, following his sister from the royal court hall. The smaller elf, clad in dim robes of blue and gold looked back at Ellesime's court slyly, then up at him. "It has been some time since we spoke with one another. Tell me... have you forgotten your dear sister?"_

_**He stumbled through the woods, his whole body shaking as he raised his arms, trying to keep the branches from scratching him. All he could feel was anger, fury... the taste of blood in his mouth as he spat. He loved her. She betrayed him. He loved... he loved her. She cast him out. He loved... her. She cursed him to be human. To live like a human. To die like a human. He loved... he hated her. He despised her. He wanted nothing more than to kill her for what she had done- but how? Where would he go... there was nothing for him. Everyone in the city would kill him on sight- his one ally was gone, vanished with some fool idea days weeks ago after they'd been cast out-**_

_**"Brother... still stumbling about? Still wasting your time amidst the woods of the dead and doomed?"**_

_**He recognized the voice... but it was darker. Harder. Any trace of gentility was gone- and as he looked up, the difference was striking. Cold, deathly white skin. Sharp fangs adorning her mouth. A skin tight leather bodice that left little of her undead form to the imagination- undead. A vampire. He looked at her with bloodshot eyes, desperation in his voice. "Did it work? Are you-"**_

_**"No... I am still just as cursed as you. But did you think I had forgotten you in my attempts? Surely you know that we are kin. Such things should not go neglected..."**_

_"-guide us in all our ways. Let the Tree nurture us as we give thanks."_

_The clerics of the city finished their prayers, the royal court murmuring their agreement. He looked up, meeting the eyes of Ellesime as she raised her head as well. They shared a look of love, each one knowing what the other meant to them. He scarcely felt time pass as the ceremony finished, the others melting away to perform other tasks, celebrate the bounty of Suldenesselar in other ways... but his only love was before him. He came to her, his hands wrapping around her waist as the two of them embraced, their lips meeting like it was the first time-_

_**He barely heard her name echo from his lips as he screamed, his feet dragging against the smooth rock and wood upon the gates of Suldenesselar. The rough hands of the guards who held him were unyielding; for all his struggling, they would not let go. There, at the far end of the courtyard she stood, not the faintest hint of what they had shared in her eyes. Nothing. No mercy. No love. No regret. For the first time, he felt something other than longing and love and desire to be with her... he felt anger. Wrath. Hatred- And in that moment, he knew it would be the last time...**_

The sound of an explosion shook Irenicus from his memories- he looked up, his thin smile widening. They had arrived. Bodhi pushed the double doors, half crumbling upon their hinges off the temple frame- dust and smoke filled the air, and the sound of battle was everywhere. Five elves rounded a corner down the hall, skidding to a halt as they saw the two intruders. One shouted a command, the other four raising bows and swords.

Bodhi leapt down the hall, a vicious laugh echoing from her throat as Irenicus released all the rage, all the anger, all the power he had been holding in for this day. Revenge. Magic. Death.

Irenicus laughed as death rained from his hands.

X X X X X X X

"The illusion will last until you return to me and I cast the dispel." Adalon announced, the dragon resting upon her shimmering rear legs, reared up before the party. The party had conspired all day for their movement once they had entered the city, even if they had little idea of how they would gain access. Still, Adalon had promised an entry, and it appeared she had finally found the way. A spell of permanent illusion would give them the appearance of drow, the language upon their tongues, with none the wiser. "I will transform you, and you will be able to pass through the drow with ease. They will not see through the fiction I create."

"To become such a hated thing… I do not look forward to that." Jaheira murmured, giving a sideways glance to the others, finding similar looks and feelings showed by Aerie.

"No matter your personal feelings, there is little choice, unless you wish to break down the gates and fight your way through." Adalon barked a laugh. "When you arrive at the gate, tell them you are from the city of Ched Nasad, and that you seek sanctuary within Ust Natha. I recently dispatched a drow war party doing just that- they will have no reason to question the authenticity of your statements."

"I'm not so sure about this..." Imoen said hesitantly. "I don't know about the rest of you, but I don't know how drow elves act around each other- maybe you could teach us a little about the drow before we get thrown in, huh?"

"Improvise." Adalon answered, shaking her head. "They are in the turmoil of war at the moment and will overlook much; we do not have the time for lessons of the drow culture. Aside from all this, they will not turn away extra hands during such a time. You will be welcomed, if anything. You will not be discovered by any mistakes other than your own, so be careful not to make them."

The silver dragon paused, surveying the party. "I presume this is acceptable? If so, then prepare yourselves. Once I cast the spell you must be off- the danger rises every moment we delay."

Keldorn glanced at the others; they looked grave, but determined. They nodded, giving him their approval- he turned and bowed to Adalon. "We are ready. Allow us a moment to gather our belongings and prepare for travel, then we will submit to your magics."

Adalon nodded, the party moving to ready for travel. Minsc helped Aerie pack the bedding and rations they had unpacked in the time spent in Adalon's cave- Jaheira glanced over toward Keldorn, the paladin standing off by himself, his head tilted upward as he stared at the rock formations of the ceiling. She frowned, striding over to join him. He scarcely moved as she approached, but she still sidled in beside him, studying his face. "Keldorn? You look pensive... are you well?"

He finally turned to her, a weary nod acknowledging her presence. "I am well enough, Jaheira, though our circumstance gives me reason to pause."

She agreed inwardly, replying, "I have been thinking as well. It is hard to draw a line in the sand and say, 'this side represents balance and this side does not'."

"Balance?" Keldorn asked, an arch of the eyebrow betraying a hint of incredulity. "Would that balance was the worst of our worries."

"Ah. Having trouble with the black and white aspects?" Jaheira questioned, nodding to Imoen as the thief-mage exchanged a questioning look about the waterskins and the underground stream running through the cavern.

"That would be an understatement. I am quite certain of what evil lies ahead, but I am finding problems with identifying the 'good' path around it." Keldorn sighed, trying to calm himself. "I was not truly prepared to lead these men and women... we are not an army, nor a division of soldiers under the command of a general or captain. It has been some time since I was made a leader of men..."

Keldorn half expected Jaheira to offer to take over leadership, such was his previous knowledge of her- she surprised him by shrugging simply, taking a step back in an overt acceptance of his authority. "I'm not sure what to say. We do what we can when the opportunity presents itself."

"That would be all that can be asked." Keldorn agreed. "Torm guide us, we need his wisdom."

They sat quietly for another few minutes, before Keldorn cleared his throat and said, "Actually, I wished to speak with you of something."

"Did you?" Jaheira said. "What of?"

"How you are dealing with the loss of Greywulf. He and you were close, I know this for a fact. Closer than most probably realized."

Jaheira flinched just barely at those words, but Keldorn continued, "I hoped to see how you are handling this. I can observe, but I would prefer to know how you feel."

Jaheira took a deep breath and said, "You… you are wise to ask, and it shows your skill of leadership as well. I have thought much… much of what transpired, what I said and thought of Greywulf… before all this, and now. I realize… I realize he is gone, and I cannot change that. I lost Khalid, and I almost despaired for it. I have lost Greywulf, and though I cared just as much for him, I will not despair. My final words were not worthy of his memory, and I will make this up by avenging him. Irenicus now has the blood of Khalid and Greywulf on his hands, and my way of honoring Greywulf will be to avenge them both. I will kill him. His death will be by my hand; nothing less will satisfy."

"You sound as though you are replacing despair with anger, Jaheira. Don't let that cloud your judgment." Keldorn warned.

Jaheira turned a stony face to the paladin, "It is how I deal with the grief. I would not wish it upon anyone else… but it is mine to bear."

Keldorn listened, and then nodded as she finished and said, "It is good you are not giving in to fear and doubt. However, if you let yourself slide into vengeance and hatred, it will eventually consume you, turning you into what you fight. You fight for balance, Jaheira… what you describe to me now, that is not balanced."

Jaheira remained quiet, until Keldorn finally nodded, realizing she would speak with him no more for the time. "Very well. Think on what I have said, Jaheira… may Helm grant you the balance you seek."

X X X X X X X

The echo of footsteps had finally died away; there was nothing left in the lair of Adalon but silence. She had cast her magics, cloaking the surfacers in the manner of drow, an illusion so powerful that nothing save her own magics could break it. After exchanging last minute plans and advice, the party had finally set out to their dread mission: infiltrating a drow city, rescuing the dragon eggs, and getting out alive. Not an easy task... but there was no other choice.

The great silver dragon rested upon her haunches, still watching the exit to her lair until she was certain the five adventurers had left, then turned back to the darkness of her cavern. There, resting alone and watching sat a figure, cloaked in the dark and awaiting Adalon's attention. The dragon regarded her visitor for a few moments, then snorted, gesturing with one claw for the figure to come forward. He stood, stepping out of the darkness, bowing before the silver one.

"I see you decided to trust them after all; I had my doubts for a time." he said, glancing towards the archway of the cavern.

"I was rough in my dealings with them, that much is true." Adalon replied easily. "This matter is not to be taken lightly, and they know what is at stake. At the very least, I trust them more than you, my indentured servant."

"Strange, isn't it? I who cannot disobey am held in lower regard than those who have full capacity to betray. Perhaps you've been down here too long."

Adalon narrowed her eyes, leaning down to the figure. "Do not tempt my anger through insolence or mockery. You know very well my reasons. You would be dead now if I had not decided to spare your life; the only reason I did not let you die is the possibility I saw within you. The Geas of service you swore is little more than repayment of that favor... and that repayment begins now. You will follow these five into Ust Natha- closely enough to be seen as their figurehead, granting you authority over them, but with enough of a distance so you can keep an eye on their plans. If they endanger the rescue of my eggs in any way- no matter what, you know what to do."

"So I'm a failsafe, is that it? Your own personal authority, expressed in my words and actions?"

"Ensure that my eggs are returned to me and you need worry of nothing. And despite what you may believe, I do not think my mission will lead you to conflict with these men and women. Just do as I have commanded, and all will go as it should."

"Then there is little more for us to discuss. I will follow, and report to you daily." he said, glancing toward the exit in a query of departure.

Adalon nodded, shifting aside for the drow elf to pass. "Go then, Veldrin... your new command awaits."


	64. Part 3: City of Darkness

_Author's Note: Well, it's almost Thanksgiving, and I seriously doubt I'll get another chapter up before then, so happy Thanksgiving to everyone out there! Another round of thanks go out to all the readers, and especially for any reviews! Have a good one- Capt. Incredible_

A shadow. A whisper in the dark- a blur that anyone would have mistaken for a slight breeze of wind or something even less, had they felt his presence to begin with. Of course, the few trinkets Adalon had lent him for the mission he was embarking upon didn't hinder matters any. He felt his heart pound just a bit faster- not because of the great physical exertion of the running and sneaking, though his body had yet to reach its full capacity again- more so of approaching these men and women, these warriors... like a wounded animal, they would be wary. Distrusting. Gaining their trust would be a nearly impossible task after everything that had occurred... even if he intended to be completely honest in his dealings with them.

He felt his lips curl up slightly along the far edges of his mouth. Of course, that would not be the case. Adalon's power, the geas he had sworn to her service coursed through his veins, and he could swear she was listening to his thoughts right now, warning him of the consequence of betrayal. He calmed himself as he slipped behind a large rock formation, his eyes narrowing as he heard the sound of chittering and rough scales grinding. An umber hulk loped by, seeking something- food perhaps? The thrill of battle? He didn't know, but gods help him, he was philosophical every now and then. Just what would it be like to be a creature without the troubles of sentience, or at the very least, only indwelt with a minute portion of said blessing and curse?

To live solely for the hunt, for life, for food, for shelter... just the basics. It was a futile prospect of course, but worth contemplating every once in a great while. Not when his mission was so close to commencing, though. The sounds of Ust Natha were almost within earshot, though with the way that the Underdark magnified sound, his trek was not nearly completed as of yet. The question was when he would come upon the adventurers. Rather, when should he come upon them? Right before they passed through the gates, so as to cement his reputation as their figurehead from the beginning? Beforehand, so there would be no surprises? Afterwards would pose the most difficulty, convincing the guards outside of his authenticity and the part inside as well... he shook his head.

Perhaps not. Drama, mystery and flair were all well and good... but not at the cost of survival. The sound of voices began to slowly worm their way through the darkness... he smiled. His prey was close. He glanced down to the ring that rested on his right hand- another trinket of Adalon's design. He twisted the ring, muttering the incantations inscribed upon the inside of the band- and vanished from sight.

"Act as we agreed, and there should be no problems. Or... that is the plan, at the least." Keldorn exhaled, giving voice to the concern each of the five there felt, if not mentioned. On the surface, it seemed absurd- trusting an illusionary magic to last long enough for them to infiltrate a drow city, avoid detection or give away their identities while they searched and asked questions about the eggs of a silver dragon, steal said eggs and get them out of the city- it would have made Imoen laugh if it wasn't her life on the line. Besides... Imoen wasn't laughing as much these days.

Her elven companion glanced over towards the girl in question; she and Imoen had grown much closer in the last days and weeks. Sharing stories, advice, even simple chats of numerous origins and destinations that the two had missed for some time. It broke Aerie's heart to see Imoen so haggard, so tired all the time. It wasn't just the amount of effort and exertion they had all been putting in over the last few days, nor was it the admittedly overwhelming strain of Greywulf's death that put Imoen in such a low state. It was as though she was being eaten from the inside out... like her body was slowly shutting down, slowly giving up. Without her soul, there was nothing left but the taint- a determinedly stronger taint than had been present before Spellhold... before Irenicus.

Aerie had heard Imoen's moans, her cries as the two had shared sleeping quarters... nightmares that made Aerie shiver. Imoen had shared a few of them when Aerie had pried... but neither wanted to hear or speak of more after Imoen had described the first. It still gave the Avariel chills when thinking of the horrors Imoen had described- no. She shook her head, clearing it of such thoughts. If she was to be there for Imoen, to be the strong one, able to comfort her... she couldn't afford to be weak this time. Oddly enough, surrounded by the likes of Jaheira, Minsc, and Keldorn... she was the brave one now. She was the one turned to for respite and strength. She only hoped she could prove up to the task-

"Slave! Cease your stalling and move your carcass lest you end up like your foolish kin!"

The rough tones of the drow reached their hearing along with the crack of a whip against flesh- Keldorn raised one hand, halting their progression as the whole group immediately went on alert, holding close to the rock canyon walls that formed the path to Ust Natha. He lowered one hand to his sword hilt, motioning for Imoen to go ahead and take point. The girl crept up, raising the cloak on her newly blackened robes, shadowing her ebony skin even further.

She turned the corner of the rock face, her red eyes narrowing as she witnessed two bound duergar, beaten mercilessly and half-dead, being strung along towards the gates of Ust Natha, an outline visible in the distance. One of the duergar had stumbled, crumpling to the ground as the drow at lead turned, a sneer crossing his features. He raised a whip, barbed hooks at the ends of the leather strap, ignoring the frantic pleas of the standing duergar-

Imoen flinched, swinging her head away as the sound of the dwarf's screams echoed back to them. She quickly crept back, the other six anxiously awaiting her. "A small party... six at most. They're escorting two duergar slaves to the city..."

"What is it, Imoen?" Aerie asked, noting the hesitation with which she spoke.

"The duergar... I think it's the ones who gave us refuge before. The drow must've found out..." Imoen halted, a pained expression crossing her face. "They won't last long."

Keldorn's eyes dropped, the paladin quickly running over the situation in his head. "How far are they from the city? If the guard towers are yet out of view, we might attempt to take them by surprise, but we would have to move now-"

A shimmer of movement, almost like a shadow or other ethereal creature, had appeared within their midst and caught their attention, a man sized shape slowly coming into focus. He flitted out of their presence, drawing their attention, as well as their raised blades and drawn bows. Just as quickly as it had come, it ceased its movements… and vanished. Everyone held their breath, awaiting further motion, something to signal what had just happened- the sound of a solid blow being landed went out along with a grunt from Keldorn as the paladin stumbled backwards, his head twisted to the side with the blow to his face. Once more there was a shimmer of movement, this time flitting away from Keldorn. Jaheira was the closest- she thrust her spear out, following it up with a swift spin, using the shaft of her weapon to sweep the area. Nothing.

She paused, unmoving as she stretched out with her senses, trying to detect whatever unknown presence had found them- Jaheira lurched forward, abruptly stumbling towards the rock face, throwing up her hands to keep from hitting hard. The sound of incantations flowing through the air brought a knowing smile to their assailant's face... the elf cleric was casting a True Sight. About time... though she'd have to think quicker than that if they were to survive down here.

Her incantations were more than half completed, the other members of the group moving to block for her as quickly as they could manage, knowing how at risk she was while casting... but to no avail. A dagger appeared from nowhere, flipping through the air and towards Aerie's head. The throw was slow and clumsy- Imoen snatched it long before it could touch Aerie and hurled it back in the same direction, the dagger striking the rocks as something was pinned behind it. Imoen nodded in satisfaction, raising her bow as the others slowly moved up, Aerie's spell finally complete. The dagger was sticking through a piece of cloth upon the rocks- a piece of a cloak. It had been ripped away from the main portion, tearing a chunk out. Still, there was no body, no assailant... and no trace of him or her.

Either Aerie's spell had been ineffective... or he was gone, his purpose fulfilled. Tucked behind a cluster of rocks as far away from the party as he had dared run before Aerie's spell had come to fruition, Veldrin exhaled, fingering the torn cloak he wore, chuckling bitterly as he let the newly ragged edge drop to the ground. He should have seen this coming... they were too well engrained in their habits. Too accustomed to the do-gooder attitude that made them such heroes on the surface... willing to risk the whole mission, everything at stake for the lives of two dwarves. Stopping them had been necessary- they were far too close to the gates to be allowed such lenience.

Veldrin peeked over the top of the rock, watching them as the group slowly, warily lowered their guard, seemingly convinced that whatever specter had plagued them was now gone. Of course, that was temporary. Veldrin glanced at the outline of the guard towers at the gates, the darkness shrouding them beyond any infravision he possessed. It would be difficult... but possibly the most effective way to accomplish his goals. Working as a figurehead for the group would place him under just as much scrutiny as the party themselves- but an insider, a shadow in the dark that worked alone and yet not alone, would be the key to victory. An invisible hand, helping whenever possible, even if the methods were a bit... unorthodox. He looked back down at the ring he wore, flexing his hand as he felt the magics within slowly renew themselves. Only another second or so, and he would follow on the coattails of this adventuring troupe... he almost laughed as he imagined what both Adalon and the party would say if they knew of the plans slowly forming in his mind.

"We have to hurry, before it's too-" Imoen cursed under her breath as she heard the sound of the gates of Ust Natha being closed, the large metal frames vibrating with the resonance of their collision. Their quarry was gone- whatever had attacked them had taken just enough of their time to prevent them from interfering... and it had cost them the only opportunity they would have had to save them. "We cannot save everyone, child... we know this better than most."

Jaheira's voice turned Imoen; she met the druid's eyes, the pain just visible behind her red eyes. Imoen inhaled deeply, settling herself. "I know... it's just- they wouldn't have been taken if not for us. It's like the murder doesn't stop... I- never mind. I'm fine... let's just go."

Keldorn looked like he would say something, but Minsc approached Imoen and walked in step with the thief mage as they headed towards the gates, preparing to set the plans in motion they had worked so long for. The paladin moved to take lead, even as Jaheira waited for the others to pass to guard their flank. She paused briefly as they walked, passing he bloodstains that marked where the duergar had fallen- she whirled, sensing someone's presence... nothing. Jaheira scanned for another few seconds... a call from Minsc turned her, the druid glancing over her shoulder every few moments.

Behind them, the shadow, the whisper in the dark smiled...

X X X X X X X

Torches of green and blue flame crackled and popped with their magical energies, illuminating the dark lines and hard edges of the chamber where Istar Jae'llat stood alone. The drow warrior's attention was focused solely upon the papers and documents before him... the insignias of different houses, messages intercepted and forged in secret, alliances that were yet to be made and yet to be broken. House Jae'llat was one of two major Houses within Ust Natha... House Despana being the other. The two were at peace... if it could be called that. Each constantly sending tendrils, feelers to seek out the weaknesses of the other, trying to break the stalemate and gain the upper hand. So far, it had seemed as though their mutual stalemate would continue... but something had changed. House Despana was gaining support, gaining power; it seemed as though Lolth herself saw their plans and approved.

Only a few days prior, House Despana had committed her forces to a war on the elves above. It made no sense... there was no reason to start a battle of such magnitude when they had no chance of winning. Somehow the silver guardian was letting them pass, ceasing her attacks on Despana's forces when they moved. Something had happened... something to assure House Despana the upper hand. Whatever it was, it could just as easily be loosed on House Jae'llat when the war was over. Of course by then, his House would be of such little consequence beside Despana that it would make no difference.

Istar slammed one fist down, the scar crossing his face tightening as he spat in disgust. The treacheries of the House Wars he was constantly embroiled in made him furious... much better to be on the battlefield and facing a tangible foe, an enemy to strike down and rejoice over their defeat. When was the last time he had allowed himself the thrill of a solid fight, pitting himself against the skills of another that could even come close? Far too long... he glanced behind him, mentally wondering if he could spare the time to travel to the tavern; a pit fight would do him good. Give his head time to clear, give his muscles a chance to flex their power, his sword a body to feast upon...

No. His lip curled down in stubborn refusal, knowing what Matron Hindra would say if she knew her son was wasting time on such frivolities. Or worse, what she would do. The fact he was her only remaining son made little difference... the sound of a door behind him being pushed opened, its heavy metal creaking with the movement, caught his attention as the drow turned, the white strands of his long hair just barely obscuring his vision as he looked upon one of his men, the drow bowing in quick salute before speaking. "Pardon me, but there is a matter that has come to my attention I think you should know of."

"And what might that be? If this proves a waste of my time, you will taste the Demonweb Pits, worm." Istar threatened, a baleful glare in his eyes as he stared his subordinate down.

"Our men at the gate... they say there is a war party come in response to the request for soldiers that House Despana has sent as of late. They match the description and claim to be the same party we had heard was coming from Ched Nasad."

"And?" Istar growled, taking a step forward, the other drow visibly buckling under the sheer force of the warrior before him... his temperament on the field of battle was legendary, as was his tendency to kill the subordinates who displeased him.

"Almost a week ago, our scouts found the bodies of a war party on its way to Ust Natha by the caves of the silver one. They match the same description that this group is claiming to be." he finally managed to say, Istar's eyes narrowing in response. "We never reported the deaths to House Despana, so there is little chance that they know of this deception; their guards allowed them passage. The imposters are inside Ust Natha now.

"You knew this and yet did nothing to stop them?" Istar growled, his hand dropping to the hilt of his blade, the subordinate taking a step back reflexively, trying to say something to save his life. "You fool! The war that House Despana has embroiled us in against the surface elves has sapped our strength; allowing an enemy at our gates to enter is nothing less than idiocy!"

He brought his blade down, aiming to cleave the drow's head in two, ready to feel the blade cut through bone and flesh, to feel the warm squirt of blood splatter his hands, a kill at last- the blade bounced off, ricocheting off a shimmering magic barrier, conjured by Matron Hindra herself, the woman striding in with one hand raised to maintain the intervening spell.

The drow guard looked up in a mixture of fear and gratitude, unsure of what had just happened; Hindra shook her head, the flowing robes that covered her dark skin dragging as she smirked at Istar. "Now Istar... is that any way to reward one who has performed so well for their House? You must learn to control your temper, my son... or I shall cool it for you."

"Matron, did you not hear what this filth has done?" Istar asked incredulously. "He has allowed these enemies within our gates... they are imposters at best, at worst they could be-"

"What?" Hindra laughed, throwing back her head, the crimson pupils of her eyes flashing. "Paladins, perhaps? An elven group of assassins, sent to end this war that House Despana has wrought? No matter what they are, who they are... their target is House Despana. Of that there is no doubt... why else would they come here? Why now?"

Hindra turned to the drow guard who had reported the news; she laughed at the fear he was still trying to suppress; the hard beauty of her face abruptly turned cool and inviting towards the drow as she ran one hand up and down the breastplate of his armor. "You have done well, my little soldier. But there must not be any chance of Despana finding out of this, do you understand?"

The drow nodded, slowly regaining his courage. "Good. Then you know what you must do. Return to the gate guard; kill all of your fellow soldiers from our House. Poison, blade... whatever it takes. Ensure that you are the only one who knows of this."

The drow exhaled, bowing low to the Matron before turning and leaving to fulfill his task. Hindra watched him leave, then turned back to her son, still veritably shaking with impotent rage. She noticed easily, her expression growing hard and full of irritation. "I take it you disprove of my ways, my son?"

The tone in her voice brooked little impudence on his part; he held his tongue this once, knowing what his punishment would be should he oppose her will any further. "No, mother."

She nodded in satisfaction, approaching him- one of her hands whipped across his face, the long, jagged nails she bore driving deep scratches across his face. He cursed in pain as she stepped away from him, the drow holding his face as blood seeped from his new wounds. "My stupid, stupid boy! This is a gift! The gift we need to destroy House Despana... only we will know, and when the time is right we shall strike! Would you throw it away in a simple-minded desire to kill? You still have much to learn of the drow way, boy."

He forced himself to look up at her, the five long lines of red drawn across his face, smears of blood still trickling from them. "Yes, matron."

She studied him for a second longer, then nodded in satisfaction as she turned, the train of her robes fluttering behind her. "Good. When the guard I sent finishes dispatching the others, send for him. Tell him that I have his final reward in hand."

"And then?" Istar asked, letting the frustration he felt just barely seep into his voice.

Hindra glanced behind him, one eyebrow raised. She did not bother to answer but simply left. Istar chuckled bitterly; of course. The drow way. Still... he allowed himself a smile as he unsheathed his blade again. It would seem that he would have his kill after all...

X X X X X X

They had thought they were prepared. They had covered every possible situation in their minds, prepared for any contingency they could come up with. Despite it all, despite Adalon's assurances of their safety, of the head knowledge that their disguises were secure... the weight of the city was like a plague, twisting their souls and their courage in this place. The spires of the city, the black steel that composed the towers and edifices inside Ust Natha were intimidating, like hands of evil reaching up to pierce the surface world and spread their darkness above.

Every passerby was a potential enemy; every spare glance was a possible breach of their deception and a death warrant. Each step they took that led further into Ust Natha was a step further down the mouth of the lion; their only hope was that the lion did not awaken. A brief hope, a fool's hope... but it was theirs to hope for. "Aerie... you're shaking. Calm yourself."

Keldorn's quiet yet urgent voice reached the Avariel's ears... she tried her best to calm the shaking of her hands. Her eyes flitted over to meet those of Minsc, her ever present ranger and protector; even beneath the facade of the drow, she could still see the grave worry that touched him as well. It was a narrow path they walked... one slip and they were dead or worse. Aerie tried to keep from looking at the slave pens across from them upon the platform they traversed. A howl rose up from a djinni imprisoned, the magics of the surrounding drow battering its physical form to the point of destruction before allowing it to heal.

"Avert your eyes, Boo... such sights are not fit for you. Or us." Minsc whispered, taking a step closer to Imoen and Aerie.

Jaheira pushed her way past the other three and came to Keldorn, an urgent tone to her voice. "I felt it again... a presence. Following us, shadowing us... I cannot see it, but whatever sought us out in the outskirts of Ust Natha is still here. I can feel it."

Keldorn glanced back, then faced Jaheira fully. "I do not doubt your advice, nor do I disregard it lightly. But we must take care not to draw attention to ourselves. We have little to offer up if put under close scrutiny... we should meet with this Solaufein as quickly as possible and ingratiate ourselves with a House of the city. Alone we are weak, but with some allies we might find some manner of protection."

"An invisible dagger to the back concerns me more than a whole city of drow." Jaheira retorted, but she acquiesced the point by her body language. "I will keep watch then. Do not let down your guard, Keldorn... I can sense no safe haven for us here."

The five of them continued along their path through Ust Natha, traversing the raised platforms that held many of the buildings and suspended the city over the maw of the Underdark. Whatever was taking place in the city, whatever Irenicus' actions had led to, the result was war. Drow in adamantine plate mail hurried through the city under the command of ferocious generals and leaders; clerics of Lolth chanted their dark blessings upon the warriors as they filed out of the city gates, heading for their enemy. They passed by a drow woman, hailing the power of the Spider Queen before turning to the group with narrowed eyes, her fist clutching a rod, the head of the mace black and lightless.

"You! You are dressed for war- why do you flee the gates? The parties have already been formed and sent to battle; do you retreat from the will of Lolth? Rebel, even- ah. I see you do not carry the insignia of House Despana. Another war party of outsiders... pfeh! I assume you have your orders?"

"We do. The warrior Solaufein awaits us at the tavern; we are heading there now." Keldorn spoke- before the priestess struck the paladin behind the legs with her mace, the heavy implement driving Keldorn to his feet with a grunt.

She hissed as she bent to the grunting paladin, pushing him to the ground. "Do not speak, male! Let your betters do the talking for you." The mace abruptly reformed, not a mace at all- but a tentacle rod, the rubbery black tendrils uncoiling and wrapping around Keldorn's neck-

"Stop your torments, woman." Jaheira's voice rung out, the druid's commanding personality and voice, even as diminished as it was by the events of recent days, still enough to turn the drow woman's head. The coils slid off of Keldorn, reforming themselves as a mace head while she stepped up to Jaheira, spitting in the druid's face. "Who do you think you are, to command me, outsider?!"

"I am a female, and I would not have you harm this one. He is a strong warrior; I will need his services in the battles we fight." Jaheira growled, the venom in her voice matching that of the drow as she wiped the offending liquid from her face.

"A female you may be, but you are nothing, here! Do you think to command a Handmaiden of Lolth? I should have you flayed alive and sent to the Demonweb Pits for this insult!" the Handmaiden snarled, letting the tentacle rod she carried uncoil itself, the tendrils leaping out to strangle Jaheira as she pulled on her hair with her other hand, bending her back before the Handmaiden. "A quick death, perhaps? Maybe I should let the rod's power drain your life force while your companions watch, hmm?"

Seeing one of their companions threatened so was not something they were used to watching; even less standing idly by and allowing. Still, to act against a woman wielding this much authority and power in an already hostile environment would only exacerbate matters. Sacrifice everything for the sake of one? The question flashed through Imoen's mind as she watched the tentacles tighten around Jaheira's neck, crushing the life from her in seconds-

"Handmaiden Ssapriina! Release your prisoner." A strong, imperious voice caught the attention of both the frozen party and the drow; the tentacles immediately released Jaheira as the Handmaiden bowed low, taking care not to meet the eyes of the approaching woman. "Matron Mother... these outsiders-"

"I know of them, Handmaiden. From this moment on, treat them with all the respect you would that of my own warriors." Matron Hindra was silent for a moment, then glared down at the Handmaiden. "You may leave."

The drow bowed again, this time stalking off, though Jaheira did not miss the glare shot back her direction as she pulled herself to her feet. "I know of you, outsiders. From the city of Ched Nasad... you are late. House Despana received word of your departure weeks ago." Hindra studied them for a moment, scanning their faces. "Do not think that I shall be here to save you from the wrath of the Handmaidens the next time you test them. They are notoriously... impatient."

"We are in your debt, Matron." Jaheira forced out, trying to keep her tone as servile as possible while suppressing the disdain that threatened to seep through. "We were on our way to meet the warrior Solaufein from House Despana... are you the Matron Mother of House Despana?"

"Me?" the drow woman laughed, a dark tone to her voice as her chuckles died away. "No, Ardulace is their leader. I am the head of House Jae'llat; you might call us allies of House Despana... or enemies. It is, after all, a matter of perspective. Correct?"

She did not wait for them to reply; turning on her heel, Hindra stalked away, leaving the others to watch and wonder, and above all to find someplace safe, before the city of darkness consumed them completely.

X X X X X X

The streets and platforms of Ust Natha were filled with all manner of drow; from warriors to wizards, clerics to commoners, the whole city was a hustle of activity, even more so in light of the war being waged. Still, there was not a man or woman who would dare impede the progress of one of the Matron Mothers, even if she was not of House Despana. She passed without flaw, a smooth and easy path back to her House. Of course, she was not traveling alone. Behind her, following in her shadow, the very footprints of Hindra, was the watcher, the invisible one. Veldrin studied the female as he slipped along behind her, staying far enough away so that she would not sense him- no point in pushing his luck.

She was beautiful, really- if that beauty was not obscured so by the evil that plagued her every word, the malice in her eyes. Her face was hard; any soft emotion or ability to empathize was gone. She was given over to the Spider Queen in full, and there was no changing that. Still, he had not followed her to simply get a better view of her body- no drow, especially not one as powerful as a Matron of a House, would give the slightest bit of care what happened to an unknown group of outsiders, no matter how desperate they might have been for troops. The woman had barely been able to hide the disgust in her tone for the party when speaking with them- no, she had not saved them out of the kindness of her blackened heart.

Veldrin watched as Matron Hindra opened the door to the hardened edifice; he timed the closing of the door so that she was out of the way, then leapt inside, just before the door slammed closed. He glanced down at the ring he was wearing, frowning as he noted the diminishing glow upon the runes inscribed. The enchantment would not last much longer, another few minutes at most. He would have to be quick, and then get out... it would not do to be caught inside.

Still, an opportunity like this one had to be explored; Veldrin crept through the halls of the enormous building, following behind Hindra. With any luck, he might be able to hear, see... find something that would give him a clue to why the House was interested in the party. The sound of men in armor abruptly bowing, their armor shifting with the hastened movement caught him by surprise- he peeked into the next hallway, spying the Matron passing by several drow males, the warriors awaiting her to pass before standing upright again. It appeared as though they were guarding the room Hindra had slipped into... only one shot at this-

A wisp of air blowing past the guards took them by surprise as the doors closed, the guards glancing around at the sudden gust. They looked around, searching for intruders... nothing. Inside the room, Veldrin found himself looking at a spread of purple and crimson, the colors mishmashing throughout the room's decor. It was a grandiose room, filled with many luxuries, beautiful sculpture and art... though Veldrin's eyes froze as he caught himself looking at the Matron Mother across the room, her back to him... and her robes on the ground.

Despite whatever urges he may have felt to indulge in the view being offered, Veldrin averted his eyes, trying to stay focused. Whatever she was preparing for, whether something so innocuous as a bath or a session with one of her undoubtedly numerous slaves, it wasn't his job to find out. Of course, this was all assuming he had paid enough attention to see the phase spider, half in and out of the plane of existence, materialize behind him. With a chittering of attack, Veldrin found himself thrown on his back, the spider atop him, biting down at his face as he gazed up into the eyes of the spider. It hissed and spat, pushing hard against Veldrin's hands as he tried desperately to keep himself alive-

"Enough, Kitthix." Hindra's voice sung through the air, and with what looked like a great deal of reluctance, the spider crawled off the now visible drow, Veldrin rubbing his neck gingerly, though still wary of the woman across the room from him. She turned to face him, a long, jagged dagger in one hand. "A typical male... always thinking with your lower half. Did you really think that I could not sense your presence when meeting the rest of your party? You might've searched for another guard like Kitthix otherwise... but enough talk. A spy, is it? Tell me, who are you and why should I not have you sent to the pits of Lolth right now? Or better yet, turned into a drider... surely that punishment would be befitting a worm such as yourself."

She took two large steps forward, her dagger at Veldrin's neck before he could even respond. "Speak, male!"

Veldrin swallowed, inwardly steeling himself for what he was about to say... or not say. The truth was a powerful tool, if used properly. "The war party from Ched Nasad... the Matron Mother of a powerful House does not save the life of an outsider, a male no less, for no gain. There is something you want of them. I wished to know what."

Hindra arched an eyebrow as she met his eyes, the drow keeping his eyes straight forward, away from her and any... distractions. She studied him for a few strained seconds; she chuckled humorlessly. "You're not lying. I can see it... but you take great risk for such little gain. Surely you cannot be that stupid. Or perhaps you can be. At any rate, I am no more inclined to spare you than I was before. Perhaps you should think of something better, as though your very life depended on it... which it most certainly does."

Veldrin chuckled, briefly dropping Hindra's cool as her temper flared. "You would laugh at me, insolent dog?!"

"No, Matron Mother... no disrespect was intended. It is simply- I had thought you would see already. We are allies, your House and our party. It is not for the glory of House Despana that we ventured here- it is for our own glory. And if there is glory to be had in the service of house Jae'llat... then my services are yours to command."

"Truly? I do not think you understand what your offer entails, male. What if my commands were for something more than simply your blade or magics?" Hindra asked with a lustful eye and a dark glare, positioning her dagger so that it pointed straight through his neck, even as she pulled his head closer to her. "How willing would you be to submit then, I wonder? Should we find out, right now?"

Hindra leaned in, her lips meeting Veldrin's in a ferocious lock; he returned the same intensity, his brow knitting as her teeth bit down upon his lip, a flash of pain gripping him- he pulled away, Hindra laughing as Veldrin put one hand to his lip, glancing at the blood he found from his wounded lip. "Or not. Did you think yourself truly worthy of the attention of one such as myself? Begone, 'ally', and never set foot here again until I have summoned you, or the next service I demand of you will be your life."

Veldrin did not reply; he simply turned his back, glancing back down at the ring he wore. A faint glow still upon the band... enough to get out without being seen by her guards. He twisted the band, and just like that, he was gone. Hindra watched the drow vanish, and then turned back to the small pile of robes she had discarded, clothing herself once again. She was no fool... his words of an alliance and of services were nothing more than fodder to spare his life. He would have given her nothing more, not under so much stress, having been caught so swiftly. Best to let him go as she had, keep him from thinking things through or regaining his senses. Still, he had not been totally untruthful with her. Whoever these men and women were, she was right in her initial suspicions that they were not here to bolster House Despana. And they could be useful, if manipulated correctly. Subtlety, plotting... and the exact amount of pressure here and there. Istar would return soon; it would be up to him to apply that pressure.

Outside House Jae'llat, Veldrin phased back into the vision of mortals, the charge upon the ring that Adalon had given him finally exhausted. It would take at least eight hours before the magic would be renewed... if only his skill in stealth extended itself to beyond mere tricks and trinkets. Still, it was not his forte, and he would make do. Besides, he had escaped the spider's web unscathed, if not more informed than previously. Hindra had not said anything of her true intentions, that much he was sure. His words about allying against House Despana had been sheer inference... and though she had not confirmed it, she had taken no steps to deny it. She had kept her own intentions secret, but that would change. Whatever game she was playing, she could not bluff forever. The addition of House Despana would force her hand quickly... so long as he could keep up, everything would turn out as he hoped.

Veldrin pulled the clasp he had pocketed from one of the tables while creeping through the house from his pocket, attaching it to his cloak. The symbol of House Jae'llat... a buffer of protection for him, if very slight protection. Everything he had heard and seen so far suggested that House Jae'llat was not the one to watch... it was Despana. Somehow, he would have to deflect Jae'llat suspicions, ingratiate the others into Despana's fold, and keep himself hidden all at once. Veldrin smirked as he covered his head, slowly moving into the crowds of drow in the streets of Ust Natha. A Lesser Matron's scheming. The plans of the surfacers. A guardian's intervention. A supreme House of drow, their own roles yet to be played in the unfolding drama... Veldrin quieted his thoughts. It was going to be a long couple of days. Best to take some rest... he would need it. So would the party he shadowed; he thought of them for a moment. Aerie. Minsc. Keldorn. Imoen. Jaheira. What Adalon had said about these five and her own plans for them.

Had anyone passing him bothered to look closely at the shrouded drow, peered under the cloak to see his face, they would have seen a small tear glistening as it left Veldrin's eye.


	65. Part 3: Deepening Shadows

_Author's Note: Sorry about all the fairly short chapters lately... I'll try and lengthen my postings once finals are over. Until then... well, I hope these offerings will do. Enjoy!_

Sweat... blood... fear. All of these things and more were present, the very smell permeating the combatants' nostrils as they squared off again, the power of their strokes and attacks falling like thunder on each others' blades. The cheers and taunts of outsiders were faintly audible to them, just edging into the outskirts of their hearing- a dull roar to serve as a mantel to their struggle. Life, death... all of it was decided in an instant, here in the tavern of Ust Natha.

From above, a muscular drow elf watched the two fighters study each other for an instant- just a brief instant of mutual scrutiny- before throwing themselves into combat once more. The drow's eyes narrowed as he observed, studying the taller of the fighters, the one who's size and bulk dwarfed his own, an impressive feat for the usually small frames of the elves. The one he watched wielded two axes, neither made of adamantine, but both forged of obviously powerful magic. Fire and frost burned with each graze that he landed on his opponent, the scarring becoming more than evident on his enemy's armor.

Similarly, his armor was composed of inferior material, the craftsmanship of the plate mail good, but nowhere close to the strength of the drow smiths. Compared to his opponent, whose armor was the best they had to offer in the Underdark, the twin blades as fine as any swordsman could hope to possess... it looked as though the big elf would have the disadvantage. Solaufein smiled... then again, he enjoyed being surprised at times.

Minsc shouted a cry of wrath as he brought both axes down in a strong vertical blow, his opponent swinging both of his long swords up to block, unable to counter with his off hand for fear of letting Minsc's attack through. The axe blades halted their advance just a few inches above the drow's face... Minsc lunged out with his right leg across his opponent, catching the back of the drow's knee. It was a moment of surprise and weakness for the smaller drow- his leg collapsed on itself, sending him down again, once again under the fury of Minsc's blows. This time, he was in no position to block the sweep from above and from the side- Frostreaver slashed into his neck, decapitating the elf before he could blink.

Solaufein uncrossed his arms as the crowd watching the fight roared in approval; the drow elf contemplated the five he had met up with outside the Male Fighter's Society. Funny... he had almost discarded them upon view. Five outsiders, no alliances with any Houses of Ust Natha, far away from their homes of Ched Nasad, not even clad in the drow's finest weaponry and armor...

_"The armies of House Despana have marched." Solaufein growled, staring down Jaheira as she returned the glare resolutely. "You are late, ill-equipped, and outsiders... why should I even give you the slightest chance. Why should I not send you from my sight now and save our enemies the trouble of killing you?"_

_"Do you think we wear this armor and use these weapons for lack of money to purchase the craft of the drow?" Jaheira spat. "We are hunters. Surface raiders. We have fought the elves, the humans, the dwarves... there is not a race above who has not felt our wrath."_

_The drow warrior seemed to consider her words for a moment... he snorted, though his manner suggested more than mere disinterest. "A bold statement. Even if it were true, the accomplishments you accrued in Ched Nasad mean little here in the wars of Ust Natha! Still... I will give you a chance to show me your skill. Impress me enough, and who knows... you might live to see tomorrow."_

Across the pit from Solaufein, the other four members of the party watched as Minsc climbed out of the pit, weary yet victorious. He was the third of them to have entered and emerged victorious... it remained to be seen if the drow would have the other two fight. Imoen and Keldorn... the two exchanged a look, very well knowing that their own lives could be hung in the balance next, should the mood strike this Solaufein. Keldorn did his best to study the drow when he was not being observed... he was a mighty warrior, that much was certain. The two handed sword he carried on his back was the equal of the Hallowed Redeemer in size if not power... he had no doubt that Solaufein would use it well if necessary.

He had been assigned as their contact when they had entered the main gate... he had said little of himself, but that was to be expected. Right now, the five of them were the outsiders, the ones who desperately needed a chance, an opportunity to be noticed and to prove their worth. This man's challenge for them to fight in the pits was barbaric and abhorrent, gladiatorial bouts that Keldorn would have gladly shut down in any other time... but here, it was quite possibly the greatest thing that could have happened to them. Already he could hear the jeers of the crowds slowing and beginning to turn in their favor, the newcomers with power and the will to show it-

"What of you, Nasadrian? Are you as good as those you travel with, or do they shepherd you like a lost lamb?" the sound of another challenge, this one directed squarely towards him immediately raised Keldorn's attention. The paladin glared towards Solaufein, the drow leaning over the edge of the pit, gesturing towards the bloodied dirt and stone below, the remnants of those who had been defeated still littered about- and another drow warrior taking his place inside, eager to prove his worth to the Spider Queen by defeating the outsiders. Keldorn did not say a word- he instead drew his blade and stalked towards the entrance to the pit, shutting out the taunts of his enemy, the calls to Lolth in an attempt to prove his prowess. It was not for Lolth that he fought. It was for Torm. And by Torm, they would be leave this place alive.

X X X X X X

"They're good. All of them... perhaps better than I had expected."

"Good enough to pose a threat, Istar?" Matron Hindra arched one eyebrow as she looked at her son, the pair staring down from above, seated in the upper levels of the tavern and able to see the fights below, the roaring throngs... and Solaufein himself, studying their every move. "You're not worried, are you?"

"I am not afraid, mother." Istar growled, taking a moment to swill the rest of the ale he had before resuming his study of those below. "They will be no threat to you, or me. I can dispatch them without trouble... though Solaufein might pose a problem. He is closely tied to House Despana... our grievances with them are well known. If he suspects our involvement, things could grow difficult."

"Let me deal with that." Hindra purred, glaring down at Solaufein. The drow was powerful, a warrior on par with her own son, one of the best Ust Natha had to offer, if not the best... but his position was precarious. Though his House was tied to Despana, Solaufein himself... that was a much different story. She chuckled to herself, thinking of the past and how best to twist his loyalties to her own advantage. Should things go just right, they might even be able to recruit him to their side... or use him to take the blame. Regardless, it would not do to let him go unnoticed. He would be a player in this game that she was manipulating... just as much as the five adventurers themselves. Or six, rather.

She let the far edges of her mouth curl upward as she looked out the corner of her eye, catching the cloaked figure to the far right of them, shadowed in the opposite table overlooking the pit. The one who had followed her into House Jae'llat... it was him. She nudged Istar, her eyes flickering over towards Veldrin as he caught her gaze. "There he is... the one who watches- waits in the shadow."

"Him? He was the one who followed you?" Istar glared daggers of hatred at the figure, who from their point of view, was still watching the fighters below. "I should flay his corpse and display it for all to see-"

"What did I say about your temper, Istar?" Hindra cooed, before backhanding him viciously. "Do you think he does not notice us as well?! He is doing exactly what I would in his position... watching. Waiting. Seeing whose loyalties lie where... and how they can be manipulated. Let him watch... but give him nothing. I sense that even those he claims to represent know little of his true intentions... who knows, perhaps he will be the one who lays House Despana to rest forever."

"And how might that be? Through strength of arms? Would this one elf fight his way though the full might of Despana himself, pit his skill against Ardulace and her daughters in the very courts of the Temple?" Istar asked skeptically, his gaze never leaving Veldrin. "If it were me, I would watch Solaufein much closer. He is patient and wary-"

"Then we will do something to try that patience of his." Hindra cut him off, her glare brooking no further arguments. "Ardulace's daughter... Phaere, yes? She is returning from a battle and should return to the city within two days... on the eve of the first they will stop at the Myconid caverns to rest. I have already set a spy to the City of the Illithid with this information. The devourers will not be able to resist such a target... they will capture her and attempt to bring her back to their city. Solaufein will be the one who is sent to rescue her... on such short notice, he will have no choice but to enlist these outsiders to aid him in her rescue."

"What if this is traced back to us?" Istar asked, a frown upon his brow. "The other Houses will destroy us if they discover this treachery."

"Who will be there to tell?" Hindra laughed. "The illithid will not simply ask our spy his message and then release him... he will never leave the city alive. As for Phaere... if Solaufein and these men and women rescue her, they will be that much closer to Despana's side... that much easier to slide a knife in at the right time, while Solaufein will be forced to reevaluate his place as Despana's ally once more."

"You believe his relationship with Phaere to be so poisonous that he would abandon the whole House?" Istar asked.

Hindra smiled thinly. "Oh yes... and more. Aside from this, should they fail, Ardulace's strongest daughter will be dead, weakening Despana even further. No matter what, we profit. Just as it should be."

Istar said nothing, but returned to watching the end moments of the battle with the outsiders' mages. The one with shoulder length hair, the slight tinge of... pink, was it, in her hair... she had just finished a drow mage, courtesy of a Disintegrate. He did not dare challenge Matron Hindra again, but he grew nervous... it was a dangerous game she played, pitting so many sides against one another. He tried to push those fears away, unbefitting of a drow warrior- but somewhere, deep in the back of his mind, he continued to wonder.

Far away from Istar's secret suspicions and questions, Veldrin sat alone, sipping on wine as he watched the pit fights below. Well, half the time. The other half was spent watching Hindra and Istar... although it would be foolish of him to think they were not doing the very same thing. No doubt sizing them up and their capabilities... just as Solaufein was doing to his 'allies' right now. He was pleased at this turn of events... despite the possibility of being killed in battle here in these pit fights, the party was doing precisely what was necessary, making a name for themselves, gaining Solaufein's respect- if not his trust. Despana would be forced to take notice of them eventually... though with any luck, Jae'llat was already working on a plan to expedite the process. He smirked, taking another drink.

They couldn't harm Despana without their trust... if he was correct in his assumptions about their intentions for the group, then Hindra should be finding a way to ingratiate them into Despana's ranks right now. Still, it was a dangerous gambit- at least, without letting the party know of Jae'llat's intentions and manipulations. How to tell them without giving himself away though, that would be quite a trick. Glancing back up at Hindra and Istar, he frowned, noting the disappearance of the pair, having vanished sometime while his attentions were elsewhere... undoubtedly just as they had intended.

He took one final glance at the party below, swallowed the rest of his drink, then took his leave as well. There was still much to do, much to learn... Veldrin tucked his hood over his head and smiled. Let Jae'llat make their plans. It would make little difference in the end.

X X X X X X

"Impressive... I admit, your skill with magic and blade matches- even surpasses many who frequent this place. Perhaps there is room in the war for you after all." Solaufein nodded to them, even as Jaheira bandaged the burn marks Imoen had acquired in her short yet intense battle with the drow mages. "I shall speak with the Handmaidens of Despana and find what opponents await your fury. Until then, I would suggest you remain here, at the tavern. I'm sure you will find something to entertain yourself with... I shall return in a day."

Solaufein turned on his heel and marched out, his piwafi cloak behind him as the warrior left the five of them in the bustle and activity of the tavern setting. Keldorn watched him leave, then turned back to the others, a look of relief mixed with excitement upon his face. "It would appear we are on our way... with the drow none the wiser. How is your arm, Imoen?"

"It is almost finished." Jaheira grunted, putting away the supplies she had used to dress the wound. After their victories in the pits, there were few drow who crowded or tried to bully and taunt the outsiders; they were given a healthy deal of respect and space. Still, it would not do for a drow to be seen using such medicines and skills that would be hard pressed to explain under close scrutiny. "Hold still, girl... you act as though this hurts."

"That's because it does, Jaheira!" Imoen scowled, wincing as Jaheira gave the wound a final rub with an herb, the girl pulling away as soon as Jaheira let go. "You weren't the one who nearly got cooked by a fire mage... your guy acted like he had no idea what to do against that spear of yours."

"That's because he didn't." Jaheira retorted, though a hint of smugness could be heard in her voice. "Now I think we have more important things to do than argue... we have a day's time to search and make contacts... Solaufein will not be so foolish as to answer direct questions about the eggs; nor will asking outright be anything more than suicide. Some independent investigation would be in order, I think."

"Indeed." Keldorn affirmed. "Splitting up into pairs is our best bet. Minsc, you and Imoen take the insides of this tavern. Surely the rumors ebb and flow here as they do on the surface; Jaheira, Aerie and I shall take to the streets of this city-"

"Wait!" Imoen hissed, the tone of her voice just sharp enough for the whole group to take note and pay attention- "Over there. Exiting the tavern..."

They looked and immediately saw what she was speaking of. The woman who had approached them earlier, this Hindra of Jae'llat, was just leaving, a large drow male following close behind her, also bearing the Jae'llat insignia. The group quieted, glancing back and forth between each other. "So they were here once again... watching us no doubt." Keldorn grunted.

"Minsc did not like the look of the drow woman... she eyes us with the same way that weasels and large birds of prey eye Boo... it makes his hair stand on end."

"Their interest in us is less than favorable, that much is certain-" Keldorn was cut off by a sharp intake of breath from Jaheira, the druid's eyes narrow as she glared at another drow, leaving the tavern... she did not say anything but held up the torn piece of cloak that they had recovered from their invisible assailant outside the city. The drow wore a hood and a cloak... with a jagged piece missing from behind. As soon as the drow had left, Jaheira leapt from the table without a word, darting towards the exit, pushing all in her way aside.

Minsc did not cry out either, but also leapt after Jaheira, the whole group knowing the perils of drawing too much attention to themselves, but unwilling to let her go alone regardless. Even as he disappeared from sight, Aerie turned to Keldorn, glancing towards the door warily. "Should we follow?"

"No..." Keldorn shook his head with a sigh. "There is little we can do that Jaheira and Minsc will be unable to accomplish alone... and two will be better suited to following this man than five. Let us continue with the plan as intended... with Tymora's favor we will have some leads on the silver dragon's eggs before they return."

The three began to wade through the throngs amidst the tavern, while Jaheira slipped from the shadows by the tavern, slowly following the one in her sights, studying every inch of his stride, his form, his stance. By Silvanus, she would not lose this man, no matter what form or cloak he wore... and there was no reason to believe he would make such a simple mistake again. And so she watched and waited, continuing onward, taking great care not to appear too obvious, desperately hoping he would not notice the woman following him-

The drow elf turned down a platform towards a cluster of structures, undoubtedly what passed for houses in the city. Rough and jagged like the rest of their buildings, they were almost more menacing because of the numerous shadows and pathways between them- easy to lose a person in. Jaheira cursed inwardly, trying to figure out how he had noticed her- screw it. She darted forward as soon as she had a clear shot at him, taking no chances at him reaching the darkness of the alleys first-

Her footsteps were like a pounding in her head, too loud for him not to hear her behind him- he disappeared from sight before she could halt herself, and she tumbled through the space he had been just a few seconds ago. Of course... some form of invisibility spell. No... not a spell, no incantations or arcane gestures. Still, he had done something with his hands a second before vanishing. She came up in a crouch, looking around warily as she let all her senses stretch out, searching for the unseen... footsteps behind her?

She spun with her spear shaft, hearing the sound of the wood hit flesh and someone hitting the ground with a thud. She threw herself atop the invisible figure, quickly trying to search out the arms of this man, though without seeing her opponent it was nearly impossible; she felt a solid fist hit her chin, sending her sprawling off him. She rubbed her jaw, a smoldering fire in her eyes as she heard a quiet chuckle issue from the man before her.

"Hmm... I nearly let you catch me. I shall be more careful before approaching next time."

"There shall not be a next time." Jaheira hurled back, throwing her spear abruptly. It was not a throwing spear, and the throw was ugly, but it did its intended job. Thrown just a bit high, the man ducked low to dodge it- still there when she leapt again, this time hitting her target. They rolled over the ground numerous times, Jaheira's fist waving wildly, swinging to hit the face she could not see- she heard him grunt with the feel of connecting solidly. He would repay it twice over, this she knew...

There it was. She rocked back with his blows, but it was not in vain. She reached out, feeling his balled up fist and clutching the wrist behind it. He flailed his hand wildly, trying to shake her off... she let her hand slip over his, feeling intently for anything there... a ring. Her hand grasped over it, yanking hard- the space before her was suddenly filled with a drow elf, his eyes widening as he realized what she had done, the ring tightly in her hand. He lunged for it but she had already flung it away, the echoing sound of it bouncing back and forth through the alleys mixed with the strength with which she had thrown it making the odds of recovery slim to none.

"You've just made a big mistake." he growled, shoving her off with a double palm blow to her stomach, the druid taken by surprise by the sudden loss of air. He crawled to his feet quickly, Jaheira not a second behind him, still doubled over, but rapidly regaining her wind.

"No... you made the mistake of attacking us outside the city." she spat, feinting right before darting in close, slipping her right leg behind his left to twist him around and slam him into the wall, trying to pin his arm behind him. "Who are you! Why have you been following us?!"

"You're so curious..." he grunted, twisting his arm to try and escape her clutches... he spun abruptly, trapping their wrists between them in a mutual lock, face to face. "What is it you surfacers say about curiosity?"

Jaheira's eyes widened at that slip of their origin- his head butted forward, knocking her backward as she stumbled away, trying to shake the dizziness off. She tasted blood on her lip, ignored it and kept her focus on the drow elf before her. "You are mistaken, fool. For what reason would a group of surfacers be stupid enough to infiltrate a city such as Ust Natha?" she growled, not making any attacks, though subtly checking the location of her spear. Just a few meters to the left of this man...

"Please don't lie to me." he snapped, making a running lunge towards her, wrapping both arms around her waist as he tackled her, pushing her further and further away from her weapon.. she brought both hands down in a two fisted blow on his back, the drow grunting with pain as it dropped him, though by the time she had stopped her backward momentum, he was already glaring at her from a half-standing position. "Believe it or not, I saved your life outside the city."

"Really?" Jaheira asked sarcastically, dropping her shoulder as though about to rush him again- she instead raised her hands and began chanting, an Entangle spell activating before he could attack. Vines and roots sprang from the harsh rock below, wrapping themselves around his legs, making their way up towards his arms- quick as a flash, he drew a dagger and swiped at the one closest to his arm, cutting it in half. She frowned in confusion, recognizing the dagger... her dagger? Her eyes whirled down towards her sheath- gone. He leapt from the cut mass of vines, holding her dagger with a knowing smile.

"As if I didn't see that coming. You're growing sloppy." he taunted, throwing the dagger at her. Like before, it was a lousy throw, and Jaheira did not even bother dodging as she moved up, frustrated at her inability to stop him... and yet, unable to use lethal force. At least, if she wanted to question him. The question was, would he use the same restraint? Doubtful... but that was why she practiced her hand to hand combat almost as much as her staff-work.

"Fine then. Don't believe me. But I hope you realize that Despana is not the only House to have taken an interest in you and yours. Do not lower your guard." Veldrin grunted, sidestepping a kick designed to hit his solar plexus... he reached out and grabbed the leg, just a hair slow in returning. He pulled hard, Jaheira falling to the ground before she could attempt to unentangle herself. Still, the other leg lunged out as soon as she was down, popping his knee from the side, collapsing that leg as Veldrin stumbled away cursing in pain.

"House Jae'llat. Matron Hindra approached us... if you think we're taking her word at face value, then you're naive or stupid." Jaheira snarled, moving up to take advantage of her opponent's weakness; he tried fending off her blows, but her momentum was too strong. Another fist cracked against the side of his face and sent him to the ground- her memory conjured an image of doing the same to Greywulf at Spellhold, right after she had broken her friendship with him- she swallowed, pushing away the sudden twinge of guilt in her heart. "Ready to start leveling with me, or shall I continue?"

Veldrin looked up at the druid, then sneered. "Not even close."

He began speaking, this time words of arcane origin... she realized it too late. A Blindness spell erupted before her, sending her vision into strobes of white and blue, spots appearing as she rubbed her eyes, stumbling back as panic threatened to overwhelm her... no. Forcing herself to calm, she began the words to a Dispel, hurrying as fast as she could possibly speak, trying to get the magic sequencer off in time- she felt a hand clasp over her mouth as she was pushed on her side against a wall, a firm grip upon the free hand. He was smart... positioned so as to keep her from casting and attacking, either by a knee to the groin or with a hand.

Surprisingly enough, what followed next was not another blow, or even a taunt from the drow... she froze as she heard the sounds to a Dispel, her vision returning as he exhaled, though a look of triumph was unmistakable in his eyes. "That was unpleasant. Do not make me hurt you, woman."

She struggled again, turning her head to see his eyes. "For one who claims to be so keen on aiding us... you have a strange way of showing it." She opened her mouth to continue speaking for a second, then closed it, a predatory smile crossing her features.

He pushed a bit harder, wary of any attempts at escape from the druid, still, his curiosity got the better of him. "Does something amuse you?"

"No. Just a realization of what separates the two of us." she smirked. "You are alone in your battles... I am not."

A large, ham sized fist closed around Veldrin's shoulder, and yanked him off Jaheira, spinning him to face behind him. Veldrin looked up into the face of a fiercely protective berserker ranger, one who had just seen his comrade and friend under attack. Veldrin's face fell in realization of what was about to happen- he slammed into the wall with the impact of Minsc's fist... and he had a sneaking suspicion the ranger had been holding back.

"Are you all right?" Minsc turned to Jaheira as she came off the wall, rubbing the arm that had been pinned as Veldrin tried in vain to push himself off the ground, slipping and falling on his face again, dazed from the massive blow.

"I will be fine... thank you, Minsc." Jaheira nodded to the ranger, stepping over to the spear she had thrown and bringing it back to Veldrin, pointing its tip at his head as he finally got back to his hands and knees, shaking his head wildly. "So... fortunes seem to have changed. Hurts, doesn't it? Minsc has a certain way with people..."

"His fist does, at least." Veldrin cursed, rubbing his cheek gingerly, a dark spot already blossoming on his ebony skin where the ranger had struck. "I told you before... I am not your enemy in this. Still, I doubt you will be inclined to listen... and I find this new match-up to be ill-suited for continuing our dance. So..."

Veldrin shouted a single word, triggering a spell sequencer he had prepared before hand; flashes of light erupted and spun images of the drow in all directions, fleeing the alleyways. Minsc's arm swung out lightning quick, catching a nearby Veldrin in the chest... nothing. The image vanished, even as Jaheira tagged another copy before the rest had slipped away. Minsc moved to chase the others down, but Jaheira waved him back, leaning against a wall in weary resignation. "Minsc... we won't catch him. Just... stay here for a moment. I need to catch my breath..."

Minsc raised one eyebrow, hearing Jaheira give up on a chase was strange enough, but also admitting she needed help? He walked to her side, letting her use him to brace herself, walking a bit gingerly from all the blows she had received in her short but intense fight. "Minsc is sorry he did not get here earlier... it was not until he saw the flash from the drow's spells that he figured out where you had gone."

"It is fine, Minsc." she gave him a tight smile, hobbling away from him and using her spear as a walking stick. "I do not think he would have hurt me... permanently, anyway."

"You believe the tricky drow?" Minsc asked in surprise, frowning. "Eh... are you all right, Jaheira? You are not yourself, it seems."

Jaheira chuckled as she listened to Minsc; she laid one hand on his arm, turning to him with a sad smile. "Perhaps not, Minsc. Why I should trust anybody here in this city makes little sense to me as well... though... perhaps had I been more inclined to trust when Greywulf needed me-"

She blinked once, laughed, then snorted. "No. I should not make this about him... as if this city resembles him in any way- a foolish notion. Forget I said anything, Minsc. Let's return to Keldorn and the others; whoever this 'watcher' is, he will return, and we shall be ready, regardless of his intentions."

Minsc gripped her hand tightly once, meeting her eyes. He smiled sadly. "Minsc misses him too."

She did not reply, only allowed Minsc to hug her once, the druid letting her guard slip for a brief second- just a split-second- before returning to the streets of Ust Natha. Behind them, out from the shadows, a drow emerged, his lips pressed upward thinly. It had been a most... enlightening... turn of events that he had observed, to say the least. And as he began his own journey back to House Jae'llat, Istar wondered if Hindra would still place so much faith and trust in these outsiders... no, surfacers... after hearing what he had seen.


	66. Part 3: The Ties that Bind

_Author's Note: Whew... finally done with school for a while! Time for a chapter update... and I hope this one makes up for all the short ones before! As before, in case ye don't see me till after the 25th, have a Merry Christmas, one and all!_

_-Captain Incredible_

"All right... what do we know?"

"You mean like about our situation here, or in general? 'Cause the second one could take a while." Imoen quipped, Keldorn tossing her a sigh and an exasperated glare as the five of them sat in a room provided by the Ust Natha tavern. They had formed a circle of sorts around the room, the only light coming from the lit candles around the perimeter of the hard-lined room. They had a solid half-day left before Solaufein was set to return to the tavern with their new assignment... time enough for them to gather their bearings and make a plan of sorts.

"Imoen, please try to stay focused." Keldorn instructed patiently, gesturing to the strewn mess of parchment in the center of their circle. "House Jae'llat. House Despana. Solaufein. This mystery watcher. Us in the middle... how does it tie together... or rather, how can we make certain that no matter who wins, the eggs are recovered and we stay alive?"

"That last part seems the hardest." Aerie remarked, shifting her weight as she glanced towards the door, the sound of drunken drow stumbling past their door, their movement blocking the light peeking under their door for a half second before moving onward. "Jaheira, you and Minsc talked with this drow that followed us... the one that attacked us outside the city. It sounded like... well, like you almost trusted what he was saying..."

"Jaheira trusts him and that is enough for Minsc." the ranger nodded to Jaheira. "He did not hurt her... permanently. He could have killed her, but he did not. Minsc does not think he is evil... not entirely."

"Maybe not, but whether he's evil and whether we can actually go on what he told us are two different things entirely." Imoen pointed out, chewing on a fingernail as she sat on the bed, legs crossed as she rocked back and forth. "You said he claimed to be saving our lives outside the city? Seems like a load of crap to me. Or am I the only one who remembers him chucking a dagger at Aerie's head?"

"I remember." Aerie frowned, brow knit as she thought about the encounter. "But still... maybe he knew you would catch it. Maybe he counted on it... it was rather poorly thrown-"

"So he's a lousy darts player." Imoen rolled her eyes. "Doesn't change the fact that if I'd been daydreaming you'd have been dead."

"I could have dodged that easily, thank you." Aerie tossed back, her red eyes flashing with a hint of irritation. "And I think it's a perfectly reasonable explanation. Jaheira?"

Both girls looked to the druid, Jaheira arching one eyebrow. They did not waver in their gaze to her, so she sighed and clasped her fingers, thinking, considering and analyzing the situation. "Your idea, while rather far-fetched, holds some merit, Aerie. But why all the secrecy if he is truly our ally? Why not approach us and let us know where his allegiances lie? Why play us from the shadows and keep us suspicious of his true motives and intentions?"

"One thing is certain." Keldorn exhaled. "He knows who we are. Or at least, our origin. Whether he knows our mission or not is unimportant; should he inform anyone of our true identities then we will be just as dead. We cannot afford to have him running loose without knowing of his allegiance."

"So what does Keldorn suggest?" Minsc asked, checking the edge of Stonefire as he listened to the paladin.

"I see only two options. One- we catch this drow and ensure that he is truly on our side. How we will assure ourselves of this, I do not know... but if he truly wishes to aid us, perhaps we will be able to convince him to cooperate." Keldorn exhaled, obviously uncomfortable with the second of the pair he was relating. "Our second option is to simply trust this drow. We cannot simply kill him- we may look like the drow and blend in all but soul, but I swear I shall not lose that. We will not become the monsters we gaze upon- does anybody here disagree?"

"No." Jaheira shook her head. "Until he gives us reason to doubt him, I suggest we approach him cautiously... he is not our ally nor should we treat him as such... but do not harm him. He may yet prove useful."

"All right." Imoen nodded, reaching into the pile and withdrawing the parchment that had all of the information they had gathered about their mystery assailant, crumpling it up and tossing it behind her. "What about this House Jae'llat? I think it's pretty safe to say we're not considering them our allies here."

"Not in truth, no." the druid rubbed her forehead, coming up with a hint of a scowl, though it was more of irritation with their situation than anyone in the room in particular. "They may aid us in our actions now, but their ends are their own... we will be discarded and destroyed if we do not watch ourselves carefully."

"But what if they can bring us closer to the silver dragon eggs? Or at least, get us some information about them?" Aerie asked. "For all the time we spent asking around the tavern, all we heard were rumors and tales... Jae'llat is not the powerhouse that Despana seems to be, but if Despana has the eggs, perhaps Jae'llat could help us get them? Under false pretenses of course."

"Of course." Keldorn replied, a quick nod to the Avariel before turning to the others. "Can we manipulate them? Deception, treachery... these are battlefields I am not well versed in, and to fight on another's battlefield is folly."

"We agreed to fight on their terms the day we stepped foot in Ust Natha." Jaheira countered. "We will have to adapt if we are to survive."

"This battlefield or another, Minsc does not back away from a fight!" the ranger growled. "Let them be as tricky as they want... Boo will see through their lies."

"Indeed... then we continue to play them as best we can. House Despana- everything we've been told places them as the new leaders of Ust Natha, no doubt the reason Jae'llat hates them so much. I firmly believe they will be the key to accomplishing our goals." Keldorn affirmed. "Solaufein is our contact with them... but he did not wear their insignia. Whatever tasks he sets us upon, we should accomplish them as well as we can."

"Right. Like the fighting pits, but on a larger scale. Throw our names around enough, and we might get lucky." Imoen reasoned. "Or we could just kill everyone and get the eggs that way. No muss, no fuss, right? It'd certainly make me feel better."

Imoen sighed as she bore the glance of everyone in the room, bowing her head. "Just a joke, all right... sorry. I'm gonna get some rest for tomorrow... Aerie? You want to head back to our room?"

The elf nodded to Imoen, waving good-night to the other three as Minsc stood as well, escorting them out. Keldorn clasped his hands as he watched them go, his brow furrowing just slightly... he noticed Jaheira's eye turning to him, questioning; he forced a smile, then tried to clarify. "Imoen- I have been watching her a little closer. Ever since our... journey, to that alternate universe. The one within Spellhold."

"And?" Jaheira pried.

"She is much like her brother." Keldorn considered. "She would rather tell a joke or toss a quip then face her problems, or even acknowledge them. She is headstrong, brash, and impulsive... and without her soul, she yet remains one of the purest women I have ever had the pleasure of meeting."

"What does that mean?" Jaheira asked with a frown. "You told me of the history rewritten, and how it changed us. Do you fear what Imoen might become? Surely you cannot believe that one ill-timed attempt at humor on her part-"

Keldorn turned to Jaheira, exhaling loudly. "It is not just that, Jaheira, as you should know. So much at once, the loss of her soul, the loss of Greywulf, stranded in the Underdark of all places... she drew so much strength from Greywulf- the threat of the Laughing Death is diminished, but it could yet be reality. I pray that my fears are unfounded."

Jaheira slammed one hand down upon the table, her eyes dark as she glared at Keldorn. "No. You are wrong- she is not the same woman you heard about. You don't even know her."

"And perhaps you know her too well." Keldorn replied evenly. "I only seek to keep the taint within her-"

"No. I will speak of this no longer." Jaheira cut him off, standing herself, her face flushed as she headed for the door. "I lost faith in Greywulf. I refuse to make that same mistake with Imoen."

The door slammed behind her, leaving Keldorn alone with his worries and fears. He took in a deep breath, trying to breathe out the stress and tightness that pulled at his heart so often now. That was the problem in living in a land of darkness... before long even the light looks dark. This place would destroy them if they allowed it- he shook himself lightly, focusing. No. He would get them out, and then he could focus on who he could or could not trust. Imoen would prove worthy. Jaheira believed in her. Minsc believed in her. Aerie believed in her. He...

_"Her name was Imoen." Anomen said grimly. "I never saw her myself, but the tales spoke of her beauty, her power... and her evil. Reports told of her always smiling, never dark or gritty like the others... but she was no less wicked. Every death, every kill she made was always with a smile, laughing and joking and grinning as she slid a knife into her victims' chest. Perhaps worse than those whose evil was readily visible; hers was hidden under a mask of joy and mirth."_

He wanted to believe in her.

"Imoen? Are you all right?"

The worried tone of Aerie's voice was enough to make Imoen turn, glancing over her shoulder at the elven maid, seated upon the bed across the room. Imoen turned back to the view she had been gazing at, looking down upon the streets of Ust Natha, still covered in masses of armored drow soldiers, all heading to war. War against the surface. War against her home... if she even had one. "Imoen?"

"I'm fine, Aerie." the thief-mage turned from her vantage point, smiling weakly. "Just tired, that's all."

Aerie watched her with concern as Imoen set her belongings down beside the red-sheeted bed, unclasping her cloak as well. She sat down, her hands on her knees as she looked back towards the window. "He would have laughed, you know."

Aerie was about to ask who Imoen was talking about- the look in her eyes said it all. Aerie walked over to Imoen's side and sat beside her, letting one of her dark hands rest on Imoen's. Imoen didn't flinch, just smiled with regret. "He always laughed when I told stupid jokes to hide stuff... he knew when to ask what was wrong, when to just leave me alone for a while..."

Imoen barked a laugh abruptly, dropping her head before looking back out at the window, her eyes glimmering. "I just... I just miss him, Aerie. Is that wrong?"

"No. It's not wrong at all." Aerie responded quietly, squeezing her hand tightly. "Would you tell me about him?"

Imoen glanced towards Aerie with a look of slight confusion; Aerie averted her eyes and continued, "He... he always told me that he'd tell me about his past... his time in Candlekeep with you. When we had time... when we weren't in such a hurry, or being chased- it never came, of course. M-maybe if you told me about those days..."

Imoen nodded slowly, her mouth slowly creeping into a hint of a smile. "All right. I guess we could do that for a while. Well, for starters... I really don't remember much before him, y'know? Greywulf and me, all the way back..."

X X X X X X X

The echo, hollow sound of his footsteps reverberating down the pathway was his only companion as the drow warrior strode the path to the grand edifice, the focal point of all Ust Natha. The beautiful purple stone that was ground beneath his blackened boots paled in comparison with the grand marvels of the Temple of Lolth; built higher and larger and grander than anything else within the city, a monument to the Spider Queen and her power. Solaufein exhaled, trying to keep his composure, as well as his nerve as he drew ever closer to the grand house of worship, the dwelling of the worship for their holiest of deities. He did not look up as he passed through the large double doors that composed the portal of opening, refusing to meet the gaze of the ornate, exotic carving of Lolth, overlooking the path within. Her eyes were said to be channeled through the statue itself; only a fool invited the Spider Queen to look into their soul so easily.

It was only after he was safely inside that Solaufein dared look up; he almost laughed with the irony. Refusing to meet the gaze of one dread power in order to meet another. Not that he hadn't been expecting this; she was the one who had summoned him, after all. Of course, that gave him pause to begin with... rather, it should have. Solaufein steeled himself and walked before the Matron Mother Ardulace, awaiting him in the main courts of the Temple of Lolth. He bowed low, the train of his pifwafi cloak touching the ground as he did. "Matron Mother, I have responded to your summons; I have come as you commanded. What would you have of me?"

Ardulace looked Solaufein up and down before speaking, taking in his full body and stature. She let a predatory smile creep across her thin lips, beckoning him to rise and follow as she moved away from the main courts, heading towards the main altar and sacrificial chambers at the far end of the hall. "Solaufein... greatest of the warriors in Ust Natha. That is quite the accomplishment, even for a male."

"Your words bring me honor, Matron." Solaufein responded, trying desperately to keep the contempt out of his voice that he felt.

"Ha! I'm sure they do." Ardulace sneered, not bothering to look at the drow warrior as they kept walking, passing priestesses of Lolth, the sound of their unholy chants filling the air around them. "Your skills on the field of politics and manipulation are poor, to say the least, when compared to your ability on the battlefield. I would suggest you do not venture into battles where you are doomed to fail."

"What would you have me say then, Matron? That my hatred for the dealings of the Houses is surpassed only by my hatred for you? I'm sure the Handmaidens would flay me alive should I be so foolish to speak the words in their presence." Solaufein ground out, stiffening in anticipation of the blow that was sure to follow at Ardulace's hands... but did not come.

Ardulace only turned to him, ceasing their travel at the very altar of Lolth, the bloodied slab to their side and bearing the remains of a prisoner who had been killed not minutes prior... the coppery stench of blood filled the air as she spoke again. "I never tire of your impertinence, Solaufein. It is... refreshing, from the obsequious nature of all others. And it will make your final death at my hands so much more delicious when your alliances finally tire of you."

"Matron, had you wanted to bandy taunts and threats you would have sent Phaere to speak with me. It would have struck deeper to my heart, as you well know." Solaufein bit his words out, trying to control the temper that was rapidly growing within him. "If you have a mission for me, then tell me and send me on my way."

"Interesting that you should mention your old companion, my daughter..." Ardulace chuckled, her gaze turning briefly as another prisoner, screaming in fear and horror at was about to come, was pushed forward before drow guards and a priestess, bound and strapped to the bloody altar. "You know that my eldest was recently sent in negotiation with the nearby cities... she was to return today."

Solaufein ignored the chants of the priestess and increasingly heightened screams of the prisoner as a dagger was raised high, gleaming with black spider venom. "Yes, I know. She was to make one stop at the Myconid caverns for rest and to resupply. What of it?"

"The party I sent to meet her at the Myconid caverns found the bodies of her guard escort; their brains were gone. Drained by the illithid." Ardulace snarled, showing the first hint of anger since he had arrived. "There was no trace of her... save in the Astral plane."

A squirt of blood jutted between the two of them as the prisoner beside them was abruptly silenced, the dagger finding its mark with ease. "The illithid took her? They will bring her to their city, if given the time... when did your men find this?" Solaufein asked, his mind spinning in anticipation of the battle he knew would be coming-

"Do not sound so excited." Ardulace shook her head. "As much as you might wish to see Phaere dead and gone, they will not have reached their citadel just yet. We have a little time; you must go to the caverns outside their city and ambush them, and rescue my daughter. Surely the greatest of all warriors in Ust Natha will have no trouble with a few devourers?"

"Your cruelty knows no bounds, Matron Mother." Solaufein snorted, inhaling deeply. "I will do as you ask... you will see your daughter before this time tomorrow. Have you the Astral snare?"

Ardulace took the small, adamantine forged and magically bound device from her robes and presented it to Solaufein, grabbing his wrist in an iron lock as he took it from her. "Solaufein. Do not think that you might avenge yourself upon me and my deeds by allowing Phaere to be taken by the illithid. Should anything happen to Phaere, whether by your hand or the illithid, I shall hold you responsible. No House loyalties will save you from my wrath."

Solaufein considered her words for a moment, then pulled free, a smoldering fire in his eyes. "As you command, Matron Mother... so shall it be done."

She watched him leave, his footsteps echoing loudly behind him as he left the Temple of Lolth, his gait and posture suggesting great and terrible fury within; he would have gladly killed her then and there, given the chance. Ardulace smirked. He was a male. Weak. Pathetic. But that weak pathetic male was still far more powerful than she, if it came to battle. But what was life without risk? Without pitting oneself against the greatest of dangers, so close to death but resting safely just a hair's breadth beyond death's reach? She laughed, knowing it would echo down to Solaufein and irritate him further. He would die by her hand, eventually. But until then... he was so much fun to torment.

The doors of the Temple slammed shut behind him as he stormed out, his mind already switching to battle mode, preparing the tactics and plans he would need to defeat the illithid and rescue Phaere without harming her. It was true, he could probably accomplish the task on his own, but it might be too much for even him, especially if the illithid had umber hulks with them. Knowing how the devourers operated, he had no doubt that it would be the case. The standard numbers for an illithid raiding party were four of the psionic creatures themselves, the same of the umber hulks...

Eight against one. Two, if Phaere were freed from whatever psionic or physical bonds the illithid were certain to have put her under for the transport. Almost doable... but an almost certain possibility that one of them would die. Since Phaere's death was his as well, it made for quite the unappealing prospect. All of his best soldiers were already sent to the surface fighting the war against the elves and their kin... a vision of the five from Ched Nasad passed before him, the warrior taking a moment to consider the possibility with seriousness. They were fine warriors and mages; they had demonstrated that much at the tavern. But still, they were not his, not trained under his hand... he did not know them or their loyalties. Going into battle without knowing your allies was as dangerous as having none at all-

"Solaufein... why the sour look? Did your audience in the Temple not go as you had planned?"

The dark voice had a hint of smugness, one that was apparently supposed to inspire thoughts of both confidence and perhaps camaraderie... for Solaufein, it had only ever served to inspire annoyance and irritation. He turned to see the large figure of Istar Jae'llat with arms folded, resting up against the side of the Male Fighters' Society House, his dark red eyes fixed on Solaufein. "Istar. Do not test me now; I am not in the mood for the ambitions of your House or anything you have to offer."

"Ambitions? You mistake me for my mother." Istar laughed, moving to stay in stride with Solaufein as the two of them headed for the Ust Natha tavern. "You and I are warriors, two of a kind. We have little patience for the politics of our superiors... you know we would both rather face an opponent on the field of battle than through the knife of an assassin."

"You are nothing more than an emissary of your House." Solaufein spat, increasing his speed in an attempt to dissuade Istar from following. "This is not the first time Hindra has attempted to lure me into her private little vendetta against Despana, and I will say what I have said in the past. Find someone else to be Jae'llat's puppet. My grudge with Ardulace is my own; I do not need your help or anyone else's to find my vengeance."

Istar arched an eyebrow, keeping step with Solaufein regardless. "Is that so? Then how do you intend to rescue Ardulace's daughter? On your own, with no allies at your back? How it must irk you, having to save the life of one you hate so-"

"Should you continue your words, you will find my sword in your belly." Solaufein seethed, cutting Istar off as the tavern finally came into view at the end of the walkway they were crossing. "I think Ardulace would find it quite interesting how you know of her daughter's abduction when she only just heard news of it."

The other drow laughed, shaking his head. "You know Ardulace would not risk a war with another House over such unfounded suspicions, especially not in such dire times as these. You will be looking to the warriors from Ched Nasad, yes? Let me lend you some advice, Solaufein... do not trust them."

Solaufein stopped abruptly; he turned back towards Istar, his brow narrow as he met Istar's calculating gaze. "And why, Istar, should I trust anything you have to say about these newcomers? Why should I put your word higher than these?"

"Because... I know their secrets." Istar smirked. "They are not who they say they are, Solaufein. Their words are like poison-"

"Says the man whose mother is a viper on par with Ardulace herself." Solaufein growled, stepping to Istar and pushing him abruptly, almost sending him tumbling off the walkway into the abyss below; Solaufein reached out and snagged the front of his cloak, holding him over the pit as Istar's feet struggled to maintain their footing. "Hear me, Istar. I will not be played by you or your House. Solaufein is not for sale."

Solaufein yanked hard on Istar's cloak, pulling him safely back to solid ground, throwing him to his hands and knees. Istar looked up at Solaufein with a vicious glare as he rubbed his throat, watching the warrior continue his journey to the tavern. So... Solaufein would not acquiesce so easily. Fine. He would watch and wait. The drow way... just as his mother had told him. He had changed his mind the night prior... he had not told Hindra of the surfacers' origin. As far as she knew, they were still deceivers, but no more. Only he knew that little piece of information that had slipped out; and he would use it to destroy them, not use them as his mother intended. He would not see these surfacers accomplish their plans in Ust Natha... no matter what his mother thought they were capable of doing to Despana. Solaufein would be a much better, safer ally. He would eventually bring the warrior to their side, he would kill the surfacers, and his mother would be forced to acknowledge... he had mastered the drow way after all.

X X X X X X X

"You heard me. You wanted a chance to gain glory in Ust Natha? Here is your chance. Ardulace will tolerate nothing less than perfection in this matter... if we fail in this, all of our lives our forfeit. With great gain comes great risk... are you willing to place your lives on the line for the glory of Lolth?"

Solaufein's challenge echoed through the din of the tavern in Ust Natha as the five members of the party listened to the drow warrior, and what he was offering them. The eldest of daughter of the greatest House in Ust Natha was in peril... they were being given the opportunity to aid in her rescue. Should they accomplish their mission, it would be just as Solaufein said: great risk, great recognition, great power and influence... possibly the beginnings of the influence necessary to locate the dragon eggs. Should they fail... their quest would meet quite the abrupt end.

"Well? What is your choice? We have little time if we are to ambush the devourers before they reach their city." Solaufein growled, obviously impatient as he tapped the hilt of his greatsword.

An exchanged glance by all the party members was all they had time for; Jaheira saw no outright looks of denial or warning in their eyes and so she nodded firmly to Solaufein. "We shall aid your cause; great shall be the glory brought by these deeds!"

"It is not my cause, Nasadrian." Solaufein muttered before waving them towards the door. "We do not have time to waste. We must reach the cavern where we will intercept the illithid soon. Come! We will leave the city at once."

There was no time for words as the party found themselves following Solaufein through the city gates, passing through the tunnels and paths of the Underdark. They had been found by the drow fighter a few hours after the party had gathered in the lower floor, rested and ready for whatever task the man had decided to put them to. None of them had imagined it would be something of this kind of import. It was a lucky coincidence, to be sure... but the thought could not be quelled that it was no mere coincidence. Not just simple luck that they had been placed in such a situation where they could be recognized and placed into the trust of such powerful men and women if they proved victorious in this one battle.

The words of her opponent the day previous rung through Jaheira's head... the warning about trusting House Jae'llat. The cautions about their manipulations. The way Hindra had spoke of herself as both ally and enemy to Despana... they were being manipulated, made to dance in someone's show, and the thought did not sit well with Jaheira at all. The druid felt a tightness in her stomach as she watched Solaufein bring them ever further from Ust Natha to some location where they would fight for the life of a drow who could be the key to their continued survival. No pressure at all.

She caught Keldorn's glance towards her; he had gradually ceded control of the party to her after the dominance of female's in the drow culture became so clear; but he would not be denied his own words of advice to her, and she would not turn them away so quickly. Still, his cautionary nature towards Imoen so recently gave her reason to harbor a certain sense of resentment towards the paladin. She knew why he was worried, and on a purely intellectual level saw the validity of his arguments... but it was too soon. Too soon after Greywulf had been destroyed by her paranoia and refusal to trust those around her. Not again. If only for a short time, she was a changed woman, and she would not doubt the loyalties of her companions so lightly. If only... if only it had not taken the death of one she lov- cared about, to make her see that.

"We are here." Solaufein's quiet, rough voice brought her out of her introspection, the drow looking around as though expecting illithid to ambush them at any moment. He gestured towards a path that led deeper south, into darkness and unsearchable blackness. "That leads to the very gates of the illithid. If the devourers wish to bring Phaere to their city, they will have to pass through this cavern in particular. We will bring them out of the Astral plane here, and free Phaere from their clutches. Any questions?"

"Er... how?" Imoen piped up, glancing around. "I don't have any spells that deal with the Astral plane-"

"Ardulace gave me a device that will rip the fabric of the plane they travel within. They will be drawn to it and for brief moments, will be completely and utterly disoriented. By Lolth's favor, it should be enough for us to kill them before they realize what has happened." Solaufein cut Imoen off, pulling the device from his side as he knelt to place it upon the ground in the center of the clearing, slowly setting the magics on the device to do as they were intended. "Before we engage in battle though... I have a question for you, Nasadrians."

"What about?" Jaheira asked, glancing towards Minsc, wondering how good a chance they would have against the drow should he launch a surprise attack against them, their weapons sheathed and caught flat-footed.

"Before we came here, I was approached by Istar Jae'llat. You know of him?" Solaufein continued, not bothering to look up as he worked the controls of the Astral device.

"Not personally... we have met the Matron Mother of the House when we arrived. She introduced herself and mentioned her son. Why?" Jaheira tried to affect a tone of disinterest and irritation in to her voice, even though her heart was beating faster than ever. Did he suspect something? Had their cover been blown already? Perhaps the drow who had claimed to be trying to help them-

"He approached me before I arrived at the tavern. He warned me about the five of you... said that I couldn't trust you." Solaufein looked up finally, finished with the work. "Any idea why?"

Jaheira did not answer to begin with; she met Solaufein's gaze and could not quite come up with an answer she found fitting... or at least an answer that would satisfy his suspicions without destroying their disguises. A voice she had not expected cut in, saving her the trouble, "He is a puny man who fears what we can do! He fears the glory we will gain and tries to lie and steal what is ours!"

Minsc had a scowl firmly fixed on his face as he spoke, the rest of the party glancing at the suddenly hard-faced ranger. Had they not known him, he would have appeared like a royally pissed-off drow warrior... as it was, they could hardly believe he was pulling off the ruse so well. Solaufein looked at the ranger for a second, chuckled humorlessly, then stood, shaking his head. "Indeed. Whatever his reasons, whether lies or truth, know this much. I do not and will not trust you until you have earned it. Show me that I can put you at my side in battle and I will call you ally. Betray me and Lolth herself would not save you from my wrath. Now prepare yourself, Nasadrians... the battle will be upon us soon."

Just like that, Solaufein was silent, unclasping his cloak and tossing it to the side as he drew his greatsword with the ring of metal on metal. He stood between the center of the clearing and the path to the illithid city, his blade leveled directly towards the magical device he had set up. The party moved to do as he had commanded, taking up positions around the circle, each preparing to level a blow as soon as their enemy was in sight-

The sound of lightning and thunder clashing down upon their heads echoed as the device began warping and glowing, white tendrils of ethereal magic reaching out and warping time and space as they searched the plane through which their prey traveled. Wrenched from the Astral plane, wormholes opened all around, depositing the forms of nine, four illithid, four umber hulks, and one drow. Even as they solidified, the magics of the device finished, there was silence... and then hell.

Solaufein was a silent deathbringer, his sword a blur in midair as it cleaved an illithid in two, both halves falling to the ground with blood staining Solaufein as he leapt through the remains to reach another enemy. Keldorn and Minsc struck simultaneously, the Hallowed Redeemer singing as it impaled an umber hulk through its midsection, before Keldorn yanked it up and out, letting the stunned beast sink to the floor as Keldorn turned to find a new foe. Jaheira charged another umber hulk as Imoen and Aerie struck with magic; their spells sung out as power engulfed the area. Ice rained from above, hailing down to crush an umber hulk under its terrible fury; it almost did the same to an illithid, but by then they were aware of their foes. The illithid's eyes glowed yellow; the ice slowed, then flew to the side, deflected by the psionic power under the command of their foes.

Minsc swung his axes across to cut across the illithids' side, the beast flailing backwards, his tentacles writhing. It seemed to stare at Minsc for a moment, before a blast of white light surged from the creature's hands and struck Minsc. The ranger shrieked, and then stood still, both weapons dropped. He wavered back and forth, his eyes glassy and unseeing. The illithid moved forward, its tentacles swirling as they enveloped Minsc's face and head, preparing to drain the ranger of his very brain. Aerie saw the imminent danger and quickly directed the spell she was casting to hit the mind flayer. A searing orb of godly power impacted the illithid, cutting a flaming hole directly through its torso. Its tentacles slowly unfurled, and the creature dropped to the ground, all signs of life extinguished.

Keldorn had fared nearly as badly against the mind flayer he faced; as he charged, preparing for a mighty swing with his blade, the illithid pointed at Keldorn, a wisp of magic swirling out and entering Keldorn's head. The paladin seemed to shudder, and then turned to face his former companions, a red light glowing behind his eyes. Without warning Keldorn swung at Imoen, the girl yelping and leaping back, suffering a deep cut across her shoulder. She clutched it tightly as she glared up at the paladin, still coming for her with blade bloodied and ready. Jaheira saw the girl scrambling away from the dominated Keldorn; the instant she moved to intercept, the mind flayer turned its attention to her. She snarled and leapt forward, using her spear to propel her forward. The flayer and Jaheira tumbled together until they finally came to a stop, the illithid on top. Its strength was not great, but the tentacles stretching to cover its mouth were groping desperately to cover her face, seeking her mind. She grunted as she tried to hold them back, the two she could keep away waving wildly as the others wrapped around the side of her head, one slipping inside her mouth- she bit down hard, the illithid recoiling in pain as she spat its blood, trying hard as it pushed ever harder against her will-

The illithid's head suddenly disappeared, flying across the room with a swing of the greatsword Solaufein carried; Jaheira shoved the body off with disgust as Solaufein watched her with an emotionless expression. With the death of the illithid, the light behind Keldorn's eyes dimmed, and they returned to their normal color. He shook his head in confusion, but Imoen rushed past him, gesturing for him to come. He did, and the group began to engage the remaining umber hulks. Without the minds of the illithid to back up their brute strength, the umber hulks were quickly overcome, and with one final flash of fire from Imoen's hands, the last umber hulk fell to the ground.

Solaufein sheathed his blade, walking to the drow female, still on the ground, her arms and legs bound by frayed rope, the likes of which had only been sufficient to keep her bound until they had reached the city of the illithid. He snapped it with his bare hands, pulling her to her feet with a nod of acknowledgment, still regaining his breath from the battle. "Greetings Phaere, daughter of Ardulace. I trust you are uninjured?"

The drow glanced up at the face of her rescuer, a slight flash of surprise crossing her expression as she recognized the man before her. "Solaufein? Of course... it would be you whom Ardulace sent to rescue me. She has always been vindictive, you know. How it must gall you, being forced to save me after all that has occurred between us."

Solaufein's face flushed for a moment but he quickly recovered; the only sign of his irritation was the hardness of his jaw, his teeth almost gritted together even as he spoke. "I did as I was commanded."

"Yes, you did… as any male should." Phaere said, turning to seemingly first notice the party with Solaufein. "You have done well enough, I suppose, you and your… assistance. Hmm… who are these with you? Lackeys of House Despana? No... from what I saw, they fight with far too much skill. Outsiders, by the look of them."

"They are a war party from-" Solaufein began, but Phaere cut him off without hesitation. "I'm sure they can speak for themselves, Solaufein. Speak when spoken to... now then female, answer my question."

"We are a war party from Ched Nasad. We came in response to your summons for warriors." Jaheira responded, noting the way Solaufein glared at Phaere, his hands almost twitching for the blade he kept at his side.

"Indeed? Foreigners with such great skill on the field of battle? How very odd." Phaere remarked, studying the six drow apart from Solaufein. "We shall have to speak more, your party and I, once we are back in Ust Natha. I shall head back to the city on my own and inform the Matron Mother of your… successful service, Solaufein. You have proven useful. You should be grateful."

Solaufein recoiled as though Phaere had just turned into a beholder. "You are going to return on your own?! No! What if you encounter danger again? I shall not be responsible for-"

"I appreciate your touching 'concern,' but I can handle myself, Solaufein." Phaere remarked dryly. "And it is my command, so you have no choice. Farewell."

She disappeared into the Underdark's depths without another word, striding off as though nothing had happened; Solaufein was left trembling with impotent rage, moving to kick the head of the decapitated mind flayer nearby and sending it ricocheting off the rock walls in the distance. "Arrogant, foolhardy wench! May the Spider Queen bite at her blackened heart!"

"You two appear to have some kind of history..." Imoen began, but a single glance from the enraged drow silenced her.

"I will follow the Despana bitch and make certain her recklessness does not endanger us all." Solaufein growled. "Meet me back at the tavern when you have returned to the city. Do not be late... and incidentally... good work."

He was gone just as quickly as Phaere, vanished into the night without a trace. It was only then, alone as a group, did the realization of what they had just faced and defeated come though to them. Illithid... terrors of the Underdark. Defeated, and not only that, but their first step in gaining the power they needed was fulfilled. Perhaps Tymora was finally on their side- The sound of a slow, tedious clap echoed through the chamber, resonating from the other side, next to the entrance of the path leading towards the illithid city. The whole party turned as one, finding a single drow seated upon a large rock, smiling wryly at them as he clapped.

"Brilliant work. Flawless. I could not have done better... nor would I have cared to try."

His face was unmistakable; Jaheira and Minsc recognized their foe from the previous night without trouble, and immediately raised their weapons to defend. "So. You return... was the beating we handed you last time not enough to dissuade you from interfering with our affairs, drow?"

Veldrin chuckled, pointing one finger at Jaheira. "Somehow I remember the fight going a little differently... but it doesn't matter in the end, does it. We're both still alive, and from the looks of it, you five have just taken the first step in finding the eggs of the silver dragon. Yes, I know all about your mission here. I had hoped to aid you without your knowledge, but it seems you and your own are quite determined to make life difficult for me. So consider this a friendly warning."

"What kind of warning?" Aerie asked with a frown.

"You walk a dangerous line, surfacers." Veldrin said, his tone low and dark. "House Despana has taken an interest in you... just as House Jae'llat intended. Hindra and Istar want you close to Despana, believing you will betray them in the end. Whether you do or not, it will most certainly not be in the way Jae'llat intends or expects. Mark my words... at some point or another, you will have to decide your allegiances in full view of them both. Do not expect it to be an easy... or a peaceful decision."

"And why are you telling us this?" Keldorn asked, slowly lowering the Hallowed Redeemer as he took a step closer. "Who are you to aid us in this matter?"

The drow shrugged, raising one hand in acquiescence. "Me? I am Veldrin... and that is enough for you. I will be watching to help you when you fall... but I cannot be everywhere at once. Tread carefully. By the way, Jaheira, is it? You throw like a girl."

With that, Veldrin procured the ring she had stripped and thrown from him the night before and slipped it on his finger. Once more they found themselves alone... only this time, in decidedly more cautious spirits.

X X X X X X X

"I see you are unharmed, daughter... that is good. I would hate to have to punish you further for your failing." Ardulace' tone was nowhere as warm as Phaere might have hoped; the Matron Mother looked like she was seconds away from striking her daughter as Phaere rose from her bow. "I send you to recover the blood of the Elder Races, and you not only fail to retrieve it, but allow yourself to be captured along the way! I should have you flogged by the Handmaidens for your incompetence!"

"Mother, I swear I did everything in my power-" Phaere cringed as Ardulace raised one hand, hissing at her daughter in House Despana's main court.

"Everything? Had you done everything then the last component of my rituals would be in our possession and we would be prepared to unleash the final stroke of this war upon the surface elves! Instead, I was reduced to sending Solaufein the great, Solaufein the powerful, Solaufein the MALE, to rescue you! I might as well have bowed to the fool and surrendered control of Despana to him!"

"He is a pathetic worm, whose time will come soon enough." Phaere snarled, her ire roused at the mention of the drow. "There were others as well, Mother. Outsiders from Ched Nasad. They fought well... almost as well as Solaufein. Perhaps they might be of some use to us."

"Bah!" Ardulace spat. "Any half-hearted worm would shine under Solaufein's command. They are of no concern to us now... but you would do well to watch House Jae'llat. I have heard that Istar approached Solaufein before he came to rescue you. Their last hopes of gaining control of Ust Natha are slipping away rapidly... whatever gambit they are planning, it must not succeed. Especially not with the ritual so near. Do you understand?"

"Yes mother." Phaere nodded. "What would you have me do now?"

Ardulace smiled wickedly. "Given enough time, Hindra will find some way to thwart our plans. I want you to destroy House Jae'llat. Bury them forever... whatever it takes, through lies, bribery, whatever reason you can find, I want Hindra and her House gone. If Solaufein can be tied to Jae'llat and killed at the same time, so much the better. Whatever the cost... kill them. Kill them all."

Phaere's face blossomed in a predatory smile. "Nothing would please me more."


	67. Part 3: A House Divided

The sound of creaky wooden wheels and slats, supporting hundreds of pounds of materials was rampant through the air, each wagon and carriage being carted by oxen or mule. Voices echoed back and forth occasionally, the orders of a driver or a guard to their counterparts at the opposite end of the caravan, or perhaps just a friendly conversation being carried long-distance. Laughter even struck the men and women who rode with the caravan of supplies as they traveled through the plains of Amn, their spirits as bright and high as the noontide sun.

"Boy!"

"Coming, papa!" a young boy no older than ten or eleven, sprinted through the path of oxen and carts, horses and people, kicking up small bits of dirt and dust in his wake, the animals behind him grunting and neighing in response. He finally came to an older man, dressed in loose fitting travel roes, a beard with the first hints of gray beginning to show at its edges covering his chin. "Yes?"

"Have the guards secured the last few carts of cut stones and timber after that near spill? This will be the last of the caravans we take to the De'Arnise Keep, and I'm not about to come up shy for Lady Nalia. She's been mighty generous to us for the aid we've lent, and I've no intention of disappointing her."

"I think so, father." the boy's brow knit in thought. "I can go check again if you like."

"You do that, boy. And be quick about it; the faster pace we can manage the better." he replied, watching the boy dart back to the end of the caravan, checking each cart and wagon on the way for the ropes and ties that would keep their contents from spilling all over the grassy hills and plains they were moving through. Grendel Feurtherman was his name, a supply caravan leader for over twenty years. Feurtherman had been everywhere, from Baldur's Gate to Saradush, even up in Icewind Dale for a supply drop. He'd seen his share of rebuilding after war and this was no exception, this latest set of trips he made for the De'Arnise family and their Keep.

His craggy features turned upward in a slight smile as he remembered his talks with Lady Nalia, the new leader of the Keep. He had done business with her father on several occasions and was truly sorry to hear of his departure, though if anyone were to take his place, his daughter would fill the role quite nicely. She had a bit to learn, true enough, but he never doubted she'd be more'n up to the task. What puzzled him was who would have attacked the Keep in the first place... the Lord had few enemies nearby, at least that Grendel knew of. Of course, he was just a simple caravan runner, and had little knowledge of the inner dealings of politics, especially if they involved nobles and their ilk.

No... this was his calling, and he had a fine time doing it. Not to say he didn't wish his work was a little less mobile than he'd like at times... there were places he'd much rather leave be if it were up to him. Still, the type of stone that Nalia wanted for the replacement pillars of the inner wall was hard to find, with the exception of the ore pits just past the Umar Hills. He shuddered, trying to put the place past his memory. They'd seen their troubles in the past, what with the witch Umar and her legends... but whatever was plaguing them right now made him more than willing to take an extra few days to bring the whole caravan around their lands to reach the ore they sought.

"Sir!"

The sound of one of his guards calling to him got his attention; Grendel turned to the man, nodded as he approached, then arched an eyebrow. "What is it? Surely you can't be ready for a break already, Rekel, we only stopped eight hours ago."

His longtime friend smiled at the painfully un-funny joke like he always did, then pointed a thumb back towards the end of the line where he had just recently sent his son. "I see your boy was back there checkin' the knots on the wagons... just wonderin if you told him to scout up the next few hills too."

Grendel frowned in confusion; he quickly realized what had happened and cursed in frustration. "Damn that boy's curiosity. It'll get him killed one of these days. I told him to come right back after he checked the rope... Lathander knows I worry about him enough since his mother died-"

Feurtherman stopped abruptly, exhaling loudly. "Go and fetch him, would you? Make sure he hasn't found some half-dead goblin or kobold that he's taken to poking-"

"Father! Father!" the sound of his son's cries froze his blood; Grendel 's head snapped towards where the cries were coming from, he looked to see his boy running down a nearby hill as quickly as possible, sliding and tumbling halfway down, such was his hurry. Still, he didn't appear to be in any sort of danger, nor did he have any wounds. It relieved Grendel immeasurably, enough for the man to affix a scowl on his face as he stalked towards the boy with Rekel at his side, a knowing smile on the guard's face as he waited for the lecture sure to come. "Boy! What did I tell you as soon as you left? To come right back to me, now didn't I say that?"

"But father, I saw something! Really I did, over the last hill! I think we should call Rekel an, an the others, an..." the boy gulped air hungrily as he tried to point, talk, and breathe all at the same time, making his words disjointed and half-unintelligible. Grendel sighed in exasperation, looking at his friend with helplessness. The guard merely shrugged, leaving him to handle it himself.

"Look... the last few times you've gone and done something like this, it's been naught more than a dead kobold, or some sort of little beastie that the guards could have handled without any fret or worry. Now I'm getting pretty tired of stopping the caravan and looking for these little things each time you get worried."

"But this one's important!" the boy cried, his eyes nearly bulging as he spoke. "Please!"

Grendel glanced at Rekel, then nodded with a slight frown. "All right, we'll take a look. But only because we're already late and another few minutes won't make no difference."

The two adults followed the young boy as he ran up the hill, gesturing for them to hurry as fast as they could, the two taking their time until they finally reached the top, finally looking out, expecting to see one or two goblins, at the very most...

"By Lathander." Grendel whispered, quickly stepping in front of the boy as Rekel dropped one hand to his sword hilt automatically, scanning the mass of orcs before them. The sound of the metal clashing against metal as their armor shifted and clanked, their swords raised high with the roars of viciousness emanating from them. "There must be hundreds of them. Rekel, get back to the caravan. Tell them to dump the heavy material and only take the lightest of our cargo. We have to reach the Keep as fast as we can."

Rekel didn't answer; he simply did as he was told and ran back towards their caravan, barking orders from a distance. Grendel's son looked back up at his father, even as he tried to turn his eyes away from the teeming swarm of black armor and snarling orc that composed the small army below them. "Father?"

"Y-yes? What is it, boy?" Grendel finally looked back at his son, trying to keep the sudden chill he felt from showing to his obviously frightened son.

The child looked past his father and pointed at the orcs below. "Where are they all going?"

Grendel looked back at the orcs and watched the direction they were marching for a second or two, his fears confirmed by their apparent heading. He licked his dry lips, then grabbed his son's hand as he brought them back towards the suddenly alert caravan. "The De'Arnise Keep, boy. I think they're headed for the Keep."

X X X X X X X

The screams of a slave being torn limb from limb echoed through the halls of the tavern as the group entered. Aerie's lip twisted in revulsion, but she quickly covered it, turning it into a sneer as best she could manage. It hadn't taken them long to return to Ust Natha after their bout with the illithid and umber hulks in rescuing the daughter of Ardulace. Perhaps it might have been more difficult or more troublesome to return, but with a druid and a ranger at their side, the party had little difficulty finding their way. Of course, it didn't take the skills of Jaheira and Minsc to find the two they sought once within the tavern. Solaufein's unusually large frame was easy to spot, and with Phaere at his side- or was it him at her side?- the party arrived back, presenting themselves before their drow commanders with a bow.

Phaere smiled widely at the apparent honor and humility they showed her, nodding for them to rise quickly. "Ahh! So the outsiders arrive at last to greet the female that they so valiantly rescued from the clutches of the filthy devourers! You have impressed me greatly with your skills."

"Ah. So I must have been invisible and uninvolved during that encounter, I see." Solaufein muttered, purposely loud enough for Phaere to hear, his gaze everywhere but the female beside him.

"I was speaking to these outsiders, Solaufein." Phaere said, venom in her tone. "When I speak to you, it shall be to command you to lick my boot. Keep your bitterness silent or lose your tongue. Now, ignore your emasculated commander's outburst. Consider this a time for reward and enjoyment; Mother Ardulace was pleased by your performance. Solaufein's abilities are known to her, but she was delighted to learn you and your group are such powerful fighters, though she naturally wishes to learn more of your skill before placing too much trust in you. I, however, am more gracious than my mother... I believe Ust Natha could use ones such as you. Amongst the drow, only the strong survive… you five could have slaves at your beck and call, rewards at your fingertips… the favor of Lolth. How does that sound?"

"What's the catch?" Jaheira asked suspiciously, balancing the suspicion she knew would naturally come to any offer such as this one with a slight hint of intrigue and excitement. Judging by the smile of smug satisfaction on Phaere's voice, she'd found that balance.

"The catch is that you have to earn that favor... Jaheira, is it? Favor and comforts are not given out lightly… they must be purchased with blood and sacrifice." Phaere gazed out amongst the five surfacers, masquerading as drow... if she suspected anything, it did not come through in her stare. "Perhaps this is not how things work in Ched Nasad, but Ust Natha is a place of great opportunity, and great danger. Earn your keep, and you will be rewarded. Fail in your tasks and watch as your lessers are given the benefits that should have been yours. Should you disappoint the Matron Mothers... well, I need not detail the exquisite horrors that await."

"These five are intelligent, Phaere... do them the favor of refraining from treating them like complete, power-hungry idiots. Why don't you just go ahead and carve out their hearts now?" Solaufein interrupted, his eyes rolling in disdain. "You will get to that part eventually, won't you?"

"Silence! Not all drow forget that sometimes a reward is worth spending a part of yourself… or everything. It is a lesson you would do well to re-learn." Phaere raged for a moment, her red eyes flashing with fury and what looked like... embarrassment, before regaining her composure in a brief second. "As I said, I believe you have potential not seen in Ust Natha for some time, but my mother commands, and she would see more of your talent before granting her favor. Since you have proven to work so well with Solaufein, you and he shall be given another task to complete for the greater glory of Lolth. You will meet me on the city platform at the entrance, away from curious ears."

Phaere paused and considered her words for a moment, then smiled craftily. "But not right away… rest and amuse yourselves for a time. I have a few things to take care of. After I leave take no longer than a few hours before you meet with me on the platform. Be ready for battle when you arrive... I shall say no more. This is as the Matron Mother Ardulace commands, and so shall it be."

Solaufein's eyes narrowed as Phaere tossed him one last look, a vicious smile crossing her features before exiting the room. The drow warrior let out a growl of frustration before whipping away from the party and heading towards an unoccupied table, seating himself down with a loud screech as the metallic chair was dragged over the floor. The party watched him for a moment as Solaufein ordered an ale, nursing at the table with an air of barely suppressed anger, such that nobody was willing to risk asking why he and Phaere had such rancor between them.

"I doubt we will find much rest here." Keldorn whispered to the party, turning away from Solaufein and glancing towards the upstairs rooms. "Perhaps we might get a few hours rest before whatever mission this Phaere decides to send us on next. She said to be ready for a battle... you do not think she will force us to fight each other, or perhaps Solaufein?"

"I wouldn't put anything past that woman." Aerie said with a shiver. "She seems capable of anything."

"Then we'll just have to be ready." Imoen nodded. "It's only our lives at stake, after all."

"Boo did not like the looks of her when she spoke." Minsc noted gravely. "We must be careful... deceit and treachery around every corner. Careful not to step in any."

They moved to leave, abandoning the downstairs commotion for some well-earned and well deserved rest- a voice caught them off guard and unawares. "Barkeep! A round of ale for these Nasadrians. Lolth is with them... I would be honored to drink with their kind before the war is over."

Jaheira gritted her teeth but still managed to turn and face the smiling visage of Veldrin, the drow seated at a table across the room from Solaufein, watching the party intently. "Please... do me the honor of drinking with me. Surely you Nasadrians have stronger stomachs than to leave after but one."

"Very well." Jaheira gritted her teeth and pulled up a chair beside the drow, the others following suit as their drinks were deposited before them, Veldrin maintaining the smile on his face despite the openly hostile glares being sent his way by everyone there. The druid leaned in close and dropped her tone to a harsh whisper, inaudible to anyone outside their table. "You take a great risk, showing yourself to us like this. Whatever game you are playing, it grows weary on the nerves."

"If you're going to help us, just go ahead and tell us what you're after." Imoen pressed. "Why keep us in this sort of mistrust?"

Veldrin chuckled lightly as he downed part of his ale, then glanced back toward Solaufein, whose attention was still on the ale before him and nothing else. "To be honest, I don't give a damn about whether you trust me or not, and if you're waiting for me to give you some sort of good-will gesture, or a sign that I'm not who I claim to be, then you'll be waiting a long time. I didn't come here to talk about your trust issues with me. I came to drop a little info about Solaufein and Phaere... you might be able to use it in the future. But you're right about one thing, I shouldn't be seen with you very often, so listen up."

"All right then. Talk and we'll see who's really wasting their time here." Imoen frowned, fingering the hilt of the short sword at her belt.

"Apparently these two have some history together. From what I've overheard at the bar, in the Male Fighters' Society House, even on the streets... the two of them weren't always at each other's throats... this is new. Within the last year or so. Not long in the years of an elf, but... you understand."

"Why haven't they killed each other yet? It sure looks like they'd do it in an instant." Aerie asked.

"Ha! How have you survived down here asking questions like that?" Veldrin sneered, Aerie gritting her teeth at his taunts. "House Alliances are all that keep Solaufein alive right now. From what I understand, Solaufein has had... dealings, with Phaere and House Despana once before. But because of his alliances, they cannot take proper revenge. Yet."

"And?" Keldorn prodded, intrigued by this new insight into their two closest contacts in Ust Natha.

Veldrin leaned back, finishing the rest of his drink before replying. "And that's really I have to offer right now. Just consider it another friendly warning, that's all. If you're going to go up against House Despana... and you will by the end, I have no doubt, you might want some strong hands at your back. In Ust Natha, there are few stronger than Solaufein."

Veldrin stood and left, exiting the tavern without another word spoken.

"The more he speaks, the less I like him." Jaheira commented dryly to Keldorn as she finished her own drink while Imoen and Aerie agreed in silence; Minsc merely watched the door swing shut, and listened to Boo's counsel about their mutual... acquaintance.

Even as the party slowly and cautiously made their way back towards their rooms within the tavern of Ust Natha, Phaere strode past corners and houses, through the dark alleys and shadowed passages deep into the depths of the residents of the drow city. Any other drow might have feared for their life, so deep and ensnared within the back end of the city, a perfect place for an ambush or an assassination, with none ever being the wiser. Still, Phaere was not most drow... she was powerful. Important. The eldest of House Despana and heir to Ardulace's power... though all things could change. Phaere let her right hand drift down to the handle of the blade at her side, the enchanted adamantine slaying many would-be assassins in the past, as well as a few of her own kin, sisters who had threatened her claims to power.

The alley beyond darkened with the shadow of two figures; Phaere's smile widened as she watched the two of them approach. Just as she had predicted, they had shown, unable to resist the curiosity her offer evoked. Of course, they'd have left succinct orders to their own guards and House members of their location so that if they did not return their followers would know who to blame. Phaere sighed. No, as much as she'd have loved to crush House Jae'llat in this alleyway, here and now, it was impossible. But this meeting was an important first step... one of only a few, truth be told.

"You look quite satisfied with yourself, Phaere." the shorter of the two uncloaked herself, letting Phaere look upon the visage of Hindra, Matron Mother of House Jae'llat. "Should my son and I be worried?"

"Of me? May it never be, Matron Mother." Phaere smirked, bowing just slightly in respect to the powerful woman...rather, her station. One which would be unoccupied very soon, if all went as she hoped. "I presume you received word of my proposal?"

"Only that you wished to meet my son and I away from the ears of others who might wish us harm." Hindra chuckled, glancing up at Istar, the big warrior's hand never leaving the great sword he carried. "Oddly enough, I had assumed that would be you."

Phaere shrugged, listening to the obvious... and true, accusations being tossed her way with every sentence. "It is true, our Houses have had some... grievances, with each other in the past. But as House Despana grows in power and favor with Lolth by the deaths caused by this war- well, it rends our former squabbles rather unimportant. Or rather, it rends your House unimportant."

"You dare?" Istar hissed, seconds away from drawing his blade for the slight, but Hindra raised one hand, her expression suddenly cold but controlled. "Mother, she insults you and I both with this-"

"Enough, Istar." Hindra ground out. "But my son has a point, Phaere. I did not come here to listen to your taunts and insults... be quick in your dealings, or I shall let my son indulge his bloodlust."

Phaere straightened up, nodding in agreement. "Very well then, Hindra. I shall be straightforward... we both know the hatred runs deep between our Houses. And you know better than I how the balance of power has slowly begun shifting away from your House and in favor of Despana... I did not lie when I said that your House will quickly become irrelevant in the eyes of Lolth."

Phaere could see Hindra's rage, however impotent, grow stronger in her eyes. She tried not to smile, then continued. "Still, there is something that you can do for House Despana... a task we cannot accomplish on our own as of yet. Your House could provide us with the opportunity we need, even accomplish the deed itself. Should you agree to ally yourselves with us in this instance, to tread where Despana cannot, then you shall have earned our gratitude. Enough so that we would be willing to swear in the Temple of Lolth herself that no matter what happens in the end, your House will be safe from Despana's wrath when we become the pre-eminent House of Ust Natha."

"A vow to the Spider Queen? To protect us at your side when you have gained ultimate power?" Hindra laughed. "You are so very sure of yourself and your future, Phaere. The two of us could kill you right now and bring your ambitions to a screeching halt."

"But we both know you won't." Phaere purred, stalking over to Istar's side and running one finger down his cheek, the drow warrior looking disgusted by her very touch. "What say you? To show our earnestness in this matter, I even offer you the soul stone of Deirex the lich to use and command until our vow has been made to you."

Phaere produced the glowing red stone from her robes and extended it to Hindra, who for the first time since the meeting had begun, showed uncertainty. "Giving us such an ally would bolster Jae'llat's power, as well as respect. This is... unexpected. But not entirely unwelcome. As you say, if we are to survive in the future, alliances must be forged. What would you have us do?"

"Nothing you would not enjoy otherwise." the daughter of Ardulace took a step back from Istar and looked Hindra square in the eyes. "Solaufein. He has been a thorn in our side for far too long... I know of your efforts to recruit him to your own side, and how they have failed as well. Our House cannot touch him... the grief we bear towards him is far too well known. But your House has no current grudge with the fool. I will be sending him on a mission soon with some of the outsiders from Ched Nasad... I want you to ambush him on the way back. Do whatever it takes, but I want Solaufein dead."

Hindra laughed, nodding in realization as Phaere tried to bite back some of the venom and anticipation that crept into her voice at the prospect of Solaufein's death. "So, you want the great Solaufein dead, do you? I should have guessed it from the beginning. It is true, he would make a powerful ally... but even he cannot compare with the power that House Despana wields. What, pray tell, do you intend to be done with the Nasadrians who accompany him? I assume you want them removed from the picture as well?"

"No... let them be." Phaere said, her eyes narrowing as she considered her options. "They might prove useful in the future. I shall take care of the details and ensure they will pose no threat when you move on Solaufein. Are we in agreement, then?"

Hindra was silent for a moment... she nodded, glancing at Istar. "I think my son will be more than able to dispatch Solaufein, if given the proper opportunity. Consider it done."

"Good. Do not disappoint me, Hindra." Phaere turned on her heel, leaving the two members of House Jae'llat alone in the dark. "If you do, you shall find me less hospitable when we meet next."

They watched her leave, waited until she was most assuredly out of earshot- "Mother? Do you truly intend to give these Despana fools what they want? Solaufein could be our strongest ally in this war against them... we should not throw away his aid so quickly-"

"You yourself told me how unwilling he was to aid our cause." Hindra retorted, waving for him to be quiet. "Do you think me stupid? That I believe her pretty words? No, my son... we will dance to their tune for the moment. You will ambush Solaufein as we agreed... but whether you kill him or not depends upon him. Tell him of Despana's plans and of their treachery. Should he change his mind and join us, well and good. If not, you will kill him and place the blame on the Nasadrians for the public to see. They must make their move on Despana quicker than I had anticipated... perhaps putting this kind of pressure upon them will force their hands."

"I still believe you make a mistake in putting so much faith in these outsiders." Istar bit out. "You cannot trust them, mother."

Hindra placed her hand on Istar's chin, studying his face. "Leave the plotting to your betters, Istar. By this time next month, Despana will be even more reviled than House Do'Urden... a shattered memory, blotted from the history of Ust Natha. Lolth herself will turn her face from Ardulace and Phaere- I only pray I am there to see their faces when they realize how they have been betrayed."

X X X X X X X

The streets of Ust Natha were unusually silent and unoccupied, especially considering how crowded and confused it had seemed upon their first arrival. Soldiers and drow wizards were sparse and rarely seen, the majority of forces having been sent to the war above. The merchants and civilians had apparently followed suit... within a few days of their arrival, it seemed as though Ust Natha had turned into a ghost town. Still, it did not diminish the threat and chill that the jagged lines and edges of the city evoked within them.

The city gates were shut tight, patrolled by guards above and below, watching closely with crossbows and blades at the ready. Below stood the two the party sought, both Solaufein and Phaere awaiting their arrival, for whatever task the drow had set them upon next. Aerie shot Minsc a quick look as they approached; the ranger returned the glance, a quick acknowledgment and a brief comfort between friends in this world of enemies.

"You have finally come. Good." Phaere said, acknowledging their arrival. "Your timing is excellent, as I had just recently arrived here, myself. I trust you are ready?"

"What, exactly, are we to be ready for, Phaere?" Solaufein asked, eyes narrow as he turned to Phaere. "Why have you brought us out here? Is this some fool ambition of yours?"

"None of my ambitions are foolish, Solaufein." Phaere retorted. "And we are here to perform a service for the good of the city and Matron Mother Ardulace."

"I wasn't aware Mother Ardulace did anything for 'the good of the city'." Solaufein snorted.

"Silence! You will obey, male!" Phaere snapped, her hand going to her sword hilt. Solaufein did the same, and the two of them stared each other down for a few seconds, before she turned back to them and said with forced calm, "An eye tyrant is in the city, smuggling adamantine. The Matrons have decided that we are to kill it."

"What is this?" Solaufein asked in surprise. "Did you say 'we'?"

"I did. I am to join you in this duty." Phaere confirmed, giving Solaufein a withering look. "The eye tyrant has come on his Spelljammer ship, near here. It will be arriving within moments... I told you we had little time."

"An eye tyrant? Now?" Solaufein's eyes flashed, his burly arms immediately swinging to grab the sword he carried and unsheathe it. "And you felt it would be best to wait until now to inform us? No time to prepare for this battle?"

"I thought you thrived on the thrill of combat, male?" Phaere sneered, though she did take up her own weapon. "Lolth demands nothing less than perfection from her servants... prepared or not. Nasadrians! Ready yourselves... this eye tyrant will not be easy prey."

"And make sure none of your attacks harm either myself or Phaere." Solaufein grunted as he tightened his grip on the sword he carried. "Such 'accidents' happen far too often… and you are not trusted, here."

"Hmph. Indeed… although I can-" Phaere was cut off by the sound of magic opening a portal into the Material Plane. "Wait! Wait, be still! It comes, I sense it! Be ready!"

A few seconds of eternal silence passed, finally culminating in a thunderous bellow, a gateway with lightning and black, billowing clouds behind it opened before them, a large beholder floating out. The creature looked around in surprise, taking in all the adversaries before it, and its many eyes began whirling about, glowing as they prepared to unleash their attacks. Solaufein shouted and swung forward, though a quick ray of magic sent him tumbling backwards. Keldorn's blade had the reach necessary, and it swung out widely, the tip of the blade cutting a gash down the beholder's orb body. It hissed as the weapon passed by, then blasting him as it had done Solaufein.

Aerie leapt forth as she chanted loudly and then thrust one arm out, putting her palm on the beholder's wrinkled, brown flesh. As her hand touched it, it was as though pain and death spread from his touch, the beholder shrieking in pain as the magic traveled through it. It came away obviously weakened, but not dead. The main eye glowed brightly as it unleashed an enormous attack upon Aerie, but just as it was about to hit the drow, a white glimmering shield was raised before her, deflecting the magical attack off into the distance. Aerie whirled to see Phaere's arm outstretched, her magics summoning the shield. Within the other hand a ball of dark energy began crackling which she hurled at the beholder, exploding upon its side.

It rocked away, and backed up more and more as the group's attacks increased. Imoen launched arrow after arrow, the beholder's magic shielding blocking most, but as it span away with a cut from Jaheira's spear, an arrow slipped by its defenses, sticking into its main eye. It shrieked with the piercing hit and with a great thud it landed on the ground, blood pooling under the beholder's corpse.

"A most brilliant victory! The Spider Queen smiles on us today!" Solaufein said proudly as he looked on the carcass before him. "We have spat in the great eye of the eye tyrants and live to tell the tale!"

"Indeed. Well done." Phaere said, though it seemed her comments were more for the party than for Solaufein. "Do not disturb the carcass... any of you. There will be several acolytes coming to deal with it."

"Deal with it? You speak in riddles, Phaere." Solaufein asked, frowning. "Why would acolytes wish to do anything with the corpse of an eye tyrant?"

"Ask me no questions, Solaufein." the drow woman waved him off, turning to the others with a wide smile. "You have done more good than you know... all of you. And as dangerous a task as this was, I do not grant you leave to rest just yet. Two missions that the Matron Mothers have set I give to you all, to be accomplished and reported to me."

"What is going on here, Phaere?" Solaufein pressed. "This is too suspicious... the Matrons would have said something to me, made some mention if there were this many deeds that they required-"

"Do as you are commanded, and live." Phaere growled, cutting him off. "Do you think they tell you everything? You are a lowly male... do not think yourself as important as that. You could be replaced in an instant by any of these... you may still be. Now will you follow, or shall I end your life here and now?"

The two locked eyes for a moment, and Keldorn could have sworn he saw Phaere's mouth curl up in a smile as Solaufein twitched, his rage so palpable it did not take his paladin senses to feel it- but the warrior exhaled and nodded, though the fury in his eyes was never more clear. "Very well then... what do the Matrons command?"

"Ghaunadaur, the slime god of the caverns... you know this foe of Lolth." Phaere said, stating it as a fact rather than a question, which was probably a good thing, in retrospect. "It has come to our attention that there is a small but growing following of this despicable wretch. They are beginning to draw the faithful of Lolth away with their lies and promises. Not only that, but they have defiled the sacred articles of the Temple of Lolth by breaking in and stealing items needed to create their foul creatures and atrocities!"

"Heretics... you would have us wipe them from the streets of Ust Natha, I presume?" Solaufein asked, his brow arched. "Hmm... a noble cause indeed."

"Perhaps." Phaere said, just before flashing him a feral look. "But you will not be accompanying them, Solaufein. I have a different cause for you to champion; they have decided that the deep gnomes, the svirfneblin, have not shown enough fear of the drow as of late. It is time to teach them a lesson; Mother Ardulace has volunteered you for this particular service."

"You… you want me to kill svirfneblin?" Solaufein sputtered, hardly daring believe his ears. "Gnomes! Such a minor task, and I am to waste my time on it, when there are heretics in the city itself who demand the justice of Lolth? Who do you think I am, woman! A fledgling warrior who has yet to complete the Blooding?"

"You have better things to do than serve the Queen of the Demonweb Pits? Mother Lolth, herself?" Phaere challenged.

"Bah! As if the Spider Queen would care what we do with the deep gnomes!" Solaufein said in disgust. "Send these outsiders, if you're so interested! They can accomplish it without me, I assure you!"

"No. You will go with one of them and do what has been commanded. Argue again and it shall be your tongue, Solaufein." Phaere said, her voice almost inviting him to argue again so she could carry out her threat. "You will approach the svirfneblin village in the great caverns and await a patrol. Slaughter them and bring back proof of the deed."

The two drow were silent for a moment, Phaere's orders lingering in the air while Solaufein ground his teeth, unmoving and silent before her... he leaned forward to meet her at eye level, making the usually implacable drow woman flinch. "Hear me, Phaere. I know what you are doing. I will not give you the satisfaction of drawing me to an ignoble death. Push your worthless orders upon me. Try and break my spirit. You will fail, and you will fall... and I will be there to rejoice in your death."

He turned on his heel and stormed away, striding into the blackness beyond the gates. The party watched him leave, taking in all they had just heard. The gambit by Phaere... called by Solaufein. Apparently rebuffed, though the reaction by Solaufein left doubts hanging in the minds of the watchers. Phaere snarled, her curse turning them back to her. "Bastard... I only wish I could see him die myself. As it is, I have other plans. Who among you will accompany Solaufein on this task?"

Aerie's hand was raised, much to the barely suppressed surprise of the party. "I will." the Avariel said, her tone as harsh and cold as Phaere's. "You sound as though there is more to this task than Solaufein realizes."

"Indeed, female." Phaere chuckled, her demeanor cooling rapidly. "I have made a bargain with the members of House Jae'llat; Matron Mother Hindra's eldest... and only son, Istar, will be moving to intercept you and Solaufein on the way back from the svirfneblin village. His task is to kill Solaufein, though he has been told to leave you alone. Here is what you will do. Convince Solaufein you can handle the mission on your own. He will be more than willing to leave the task to you, and will return alone. Istar shall kill him, and because of your task at the svirfneblin village, you will be free from suspicion. Now quickly, leave before Solaufein gets too far ahead of you."

Imoen's eye met Aerie's for a brief moment, shaking her head no, to come up with some other way- she looked away, back to Phaere. "I will depart immediately. Still... I find it interesting that you would entrust us with such a secretive mission when we are trusted so little. You take a great risk, Phaere."

"Perhaps, but there is no reward without risk." she shrugged, before lowering her voice, the tone taking a decidedly more deadly edge. "Should you even dream of betraying me... well, you know the tortures we drow possess. I trust I am clear?"

Aerie swallowed, turning to leave. "Absolutely."

X X X X X X X

The Avariel tried to walk strong, tried to keep her cool as she accompanied the imposing warrior, the fury in his stride and the anger in his face making it even more difficult to speak with him. She had volunteered to go on this mission in order to find some way of saving the svirfneblin... after everything they had done for their party, there was no way she was going to allow them to be slaughtered. In the end, Phaere's plan allowed for her to accomplish her mission without any trouble... except for Solaufein's imminent death, of course. Veldrin had warned them about House Despana and their manipulations. Solaufein could be one of their greatest allies... or he could be one of their greatest enemies. Was it worth it to try and save his life?

"Female!"

The sound of Solaufein's growl turned her from the self-doubt she was currently facing and forced her to play the part, facing his unsympathetic stare as they passed through the caverns. "What do you want?"

He did not answer immediately, only continued to lead as they made their way closer and closer to the path that had led the party to the svirfneblin village in the first place. Aerie's heart thudded faster and faster as she considered the possibility that Phaere had not betrayed him... but them. What if she had discovered their true intentions, and was only using this to split them up? She swallowed, trying to calm herself and draw on her magics to be summoned at a moment's notice. "Solaufein! You asked me something?"

"Hmph. Indeed." the warrior stopped, turning to Aerie with arms folded. "Why are you here?"

"To serve is the will of Lolth." Aerie responded, pushing that same element of haughtiness that Phaere always managed into her own words. "You should know that."

The man listened... then laughed, returning to the trek, shaking his head with eyes closed. "You disappoint me, Nasadrian. I had hoped you would be different... stronger than the other worms that frequent this city, constantly bowing and scraping to gain the favor of the Matrons. Warriors like myself. I see I was mistaken. Let us be silent until we reach our destination."

Aerie inhaled deeply... if anything, her reservations about Solaufein's murder had increased. She couldn't simply let him go with her to the village, or innocents would die... but she had no choice. It was them or him. She turned to him, clearing her throat. "Solaufein... it is clear to me you do not wish to be here. I think it is obvious that Phaere only sent you on this mission to aggravate you... hoping to bait you into doing something you would regret. I am more than capable of taking care of some gnomes, should you wish to return to the city."

"Leave you to deal with them alone?" Solaufein laughed, but his jeers died away as he looked upon her resolute face. "You... you are not joking, are you. Do you truly think you can handle this on your own?"

"Would the deep gnomes be a threat to either of us?" Aerie challenged. "You and I are not as different as you might believe."

Solaufein studied her for a moment, as though seeking her hidden meaning, her real agenda... he finally snorted and shook his head. "You are right about one thing. Phaere enjoys making me dance, and I have no desire to comply. Against my better judgment, I shall allow you to perform this mission yourself. When you have finished, take the helmet of the leader and return it to the tavern in Ust Natha... I shall meet you there. Do not fail me."

He spun and turned away from Aerie, heading back into the blackness of the Underdark. That was it then... she'd made her decision. Solaufein would die... and Baervan help her, she prayed he'd find a way to survive. She continued on, just now working on some way of keeping the gnomes alive and convincing the drow she had done her job. The helmet... she considered it, then smiled. No problem.

High above on the cliff paths that encircled the many trails of the Underdark, there sat a shadowed figure, watching as the two drow below continued their treks. The surfacer had separated from Solaufein as ordered... but the results would be much different from what either Phaere or his mother expected. Istar unhooded himself, then drew the crossbow he had been carrying and laid it across a flat rock, letting the sight rest on the slim form of Aerie below, silently loading a bolt in, the tip wet with black poison, courtesy of the spiders of Lolth. He allowed himself a smile, anticipating the shot, the kill-

"Istar Jae'llat."

The calm voice took him completely by surprise, the drow spinning with the crossbow to face... nobody? He scanned the area around, looking for the source of the voice he had heard- a sudden impact to his face took him by surprise, loosening the grip he held on his crossbow, as another force sent it flying to slide into the darkness behind him. He whipped his arm out angrily, seeking his opponent- he stumbled forward, missing entirely. He felt another fist smash his nose, sending blood down his face. Of course. He smiled through the wounds and raised an amulet, intoning the words on it.

A figure before him shimmered, appearing unbidden. Veldrin realized what had happened, but before he could react, the drow already had his sword drawn and placed at Veldrin's chest. He sneered, "My mother told me you would be involved somewhere along the line. She gave me this in case you tried more of your trickery."

"Very perceptive." Veldrin breathed, tensing, hoping to dodge left or right and avoid the sword- he moved left, Istar anticipating and slicing right, cutting deep into Veldrin's arm. The drow suppressed a yell as he tumbled to the ground holding the wound as it pulsed with blood. The drow laughed, walking over to his fallen opponent. "You filthy liar. My mother was wrong. You won't kill House Despana. You'll destroy us all... unless I kill you first."

Veldrin's eyes widened, seeing the flash of the sword as it moved to slice him open from hip to shoulder-

The sound of a bolt launching from a crossbow sounded, along with metal tearing through flesh and bone. The black point of the bolt he had been preparing to kill Aerie with was sticking through Istar's chest, his hand suddenly going limp as the blade dropped, clattering against the stone below. Istar gasped once, twice... he turned with wide eyes to see Phaere, holding the crossbow with a wicked smile. "Istar... you look surprised. You didn't see this coming?"

The drow gurgled once, making a last gasp... then fell, blood trickling from his mouth. Veldrin stared at the corpse for a moment, then looked back up at Phaere, trying to decide whether this was a good thing or a bad thing. As Phaere drew a second bolt from a pouch at her side and loaded it into the crossbow, Veldrin decided just which one it was.


	68. Part 3: Tipped Balance

_Author's Note: Happy New Year! A big thanks to everyone who's reviewed, for any new readers out there, well... basically anyone who's been nice enough to read what I've put up here. Heading back to school on Monday, so consider this my final huzzah until I'm swamped with homework again. Hope you enjoy it!_

_-Captain Incredible __  
_

_Irenicus stumbled backwards, hunkered over as blood dripped from his mouth, his lungs and stomach already punctured several times in the fierce battle he was engaged in. The wizard tried to keep backpedaling, attempting to put some distance between himself and his enemy so as to conjure a spell, some sort of protection or counterattack, but he was slammed downward by a fierce blow to the shoulders, courtesy of the hardened wood shaft of the spear Jaheira was holding. _

_He tried to get up, but Jaheira's boot lashed out and kicked him in the stomach, sending him flat again. Jaheira exhaled a deep breath, feeling all the anger and rage she had built, all the passion for vengeance and hatred she had let consume her for so long... it all culminated in this one moment. She grunted in satisfaction as she thrust her spear down, impaling the mage on the ground as he let out a cry and then went limp, death taking him. She pulled her spear out, its head covered in gore and blood, then stepped back, finally having avenged the two men she had loved. Her eyes closed, letting the feeling of peace finally sink in, the knowledge that it was all over... "Jaheira..."_

_Her eyes flashed open as she whirled about... the voice was familiar, but the reverberation left it muddled and unrecognizable. All she found before her was Irenicus' decaying body. Despite her best efforts, all her efforts of searching were for naught. It echoed again, "Jaheira… do you think you are finished? Do you think that you have avenged those who loved you?"_

_"I… I have!" Jaheira cried aloud, uncertain of whom she was speaking to, only sure that the tone was somehow, despite it's outer calm, merely a cover for the mocking beneath.. "Khalid and Greywulf… they can rest in peace! Their murderer is dead, and I killed him!"_

_"You are wrong!" the voice grew in tone, anger seeping into its previous calm. "Irenicus may be dead, but Greywulf's murderer is still alive. Still corrupting the earth with her presence." _

_"What? Who? Who if not Irenicus?" Jaheira shouted frantically, still trying to find the source, even as she feared whose face it would bear-_

_"You." his voice was unmistakable... she closed her eyes in fear, finally turning to see a vision of Greywulf, just as she had last seen him. His robes in tatters, his wounds open and bleeding, one arm broken and useless. He glared at her with open disdain, his eyes narrow as he watched her. _

_"Greywulf… how?" Jaheira whispered, her mind dizzy with the specter's appearance, the sheer hatred rolling off him._

_"That's right, Jaheira. Back from the grave." he sneered, before arching one eyebrow in mock confusion. "What's wrong, Jaheira? No witty comeback? No stinging rebuke? None of the fire and passion you showed last time we saw each other... go on. I'll let you yell as much as you'd like. What were your words... oh yes. 'There's nothing left in him worth saving.' I come back to answer your accusations and you don't even have the strength to muster a tiny lecture."_

_"I killed him." Jaheira whispered, glancing with effort at Irenicus, his glassy eyes still open and unseeing. "I killed him, killed him to avenge you-"_

_"Come now, Jaheira." Greywulf shook his head slowly. "You can't hide from the truth. You know who it was who really killed me. Irenicus? He wasn't even in the cave. Bodhi? No sign of the bloodsucker. The Balor? It was dead already. In fact, I killed him."_

_He paused for a moment, before narrowing his eyes and pointing at Jaheira with a venomous tone. "I killed him, remember… to save you! To save you and the others! I sacrificed myself for you! I loved you, and what did you do? You betrayed me! You abandoned me and threw me aside like a piece of gutter trash! I gave my life and you cursed me for it!!"_

_"Greywulf- please forgive me... I was wrong. I was blinded-" she began but he took a step forward, cutting her off. _

_"Damn right you were blind... blinded by your own self-righteousness. Your pride. Your unending arrogance... so easy to lay it on everyone but you, isn't it? Jaheira, defender of the Balance, protector of Neutrality! Always willing to sacrifice everything and everyone but yourself. Spouting platitudes and words but never willing to act when your friends depended on it. Khalid paid for it. I paid for it. I won't let you betray anyone else, Jaheira."_

_"This... this isn't real." she swallowed, trying to push away the tightening of her throat, the tears that threatened to well up in her eyes as guilt gripped her soul. "Greywulf would not say these things..."_

_"And why not?" he laughed taking another step forward. "It's insulting to think you'd even dare to speak for me. After your betrayal, there's no punishment too great. No price too heavy for your kind of scum. At least Irenicus wears his evil on the outside... you hide yours under that pretty face and that lying tongue. Not that it'll matter for much longer. The reaper is come, and he demands payment." Greywulf said, shaking one finger as his robe abruptly turned a dark black, a long scythe forming within his hands. "And you have yet to pay your pound of flesh!" _

_He leapt forward, his scythe swinging out as Jaheira tried to scramble away, fear overwhelming her. The blade missed by mere inches, but he kept coming, the look of death in his eyes. She whirled about, trying to find some avenue of escape, anything, only to suddenly be grasped at both wrists, trapping her. Her head swung around to see who opposed her, but she was not prepared for the sight. A decaying corpse that had once been Khalid stood at one arm, his eye sockets empty as his gray and rotting hands held her tight; Gorion stood at the other, a giant sword wound gouged across his chest, innards visible as his blank stare bored into her as he stood firm against her increasing struggles. Greywulf drew close to stand before her; she turned to him with terror as he leaned over and whispered in her ear, "I loved you. Now you will die."_

_The scythe sang through the air, catching her across the waist, cutting through flesh and bone as fire swept through her. She writhed in pain as blood spilled from the wound, another slash of fire erupting across her chest. The world spun around her as she drooped, watching the blood pooling beneath her feet, and as she looked up once more, she saw the scythe blade, red with her blood swinging once more, this time straight for her neck. She screamed- _

"Jaheira!"

The gentle yet worried tone of Aerie rang through her as she sat straight up, completely soaked in sweat as she looked around; her chest heaved with exertion as she tried to slow her breathing, closing her eyes as soon as she was certain there were no corpses or specters there to haunt her, only the kindly visage of Aerie kneeling beside her bed, the Avariel clutching her trembling hand. The elf ran one hand over Jaheira's forehead, surprised at the icy temperature she found. "You're freezing, Jaheira... let me get you another blanket."

"No..." she gasped, still trying to find some measure of calm, shaking her head as Aerie halted her turn, coming back to Jaheira's side with hesitation. "I will be fine... just give me some time. W-what are you doing here?"

"I... I was worried about you." Aerie replied nervously, almost as if there was a hint of guilt or embarrassment at intruding upon the strong-willed woman. "Our rooms are next to each other- I could hear you crying out. I thought you might have been under attack; I guess it was just nightmares- just wanted to see if you were okay."

"I… No. I am most certainly not okay." Jaheira choked out, reaching for her outer garments that lay by her bed as she tossed her covers off, not even bothering to hide the shaking of her hands. "These dreams I have… they plague me in both waking and sleeping."

Aerie's brow knit in worry as she watched Jaheira slip her tunic on, her bronze skin ashen and cold. It was strange to see the proud, confident woman like this. Stranger still that Aerie would be here comforting her. Usually it was Greywulf who took that role. Greywulf…

"D-Do you want to talk about it?" Aerie asked, sitting beside her. "I'll listen, if you like…"

Jaheira glanced over at the elf's concerned face, so innocent and fair. She should not have to deal with such guilt and grief... a flicker of Greywulf's accusing face superimposed itself over Aerie's visage and she flinched, furthering the concern of the elf before her. She cleared her throat, mustering all the will she could manage. "No. I will manage... a few minutes of walking the city will clear my head. You should go back to sleep."

"It was about him, wasn't it?" Aerie said quietly, unmoving as Jaheira reached for one of her boots. "I… I have had dreams too, you know."

Jaheira almost laughed, her heart bitter as she continued to dress. "Dreams? Perhaps… but you were not responsible for his death, Aerie."

"What? Neither were you, Jaheira." Aerie said, surprised. "Is that what you've been dreaming of?"

"Each night… Greywulf, coming to me, accusing me, blaming me… I almost begin to believe it myself." Jaheira whispered... dropping the other boot she had grasped, the little strength she had gathered fading quickly. "He is not right, is he? Am I to blame for Greywulf's passing? If I had believed in him more… if I had trusted him, had faith, but no! I abandoned him!"

"Jaheira, stop this!" Aerie exclaimed, but she continued. "It was my fault! I betrayed him! I am no better than Galvarey, nay, I am worse! I cultivated his trust, walked with him for years, only to stab him in the back! I-"

Jaheira was cut off by a sharp slap to the face, her head twisting with the impact. Jaheira's eyes went wide as Aerie shrank back a bit, holding her hand, but determination in her face nonetheless.

"Aerie… you-"

"Jaheira…" Aerie said, her voice trembling yet firm. "Shut up."

Jaheira's mouth closed, and for a moment there was silence as the two girls sat across from each other. Aerie took a deep breath and finally spoke again. "I need you to listen to me. Everything you just said about yourself, all the things you've dreamt and felt… its fear, nothing more. Not conviction or guilt... just fear. Greywulf would not have blamed you for his death. Do you remember what was on his face in the cave before it collapsed?"

Jaheira nodded slowly, then managed, "He… he was smiling."

Aerie smiled weakly, affirming Jaheira's words even as her own throat constricting as she held back her own tears. "He wasn't angry at you, or blaming you for anything… he was content that we were safe, that he could see those he loved once more."

"Still… he knew how I felt… what I said about him. How can he forgive that?" Jaheira said, her voice still empty and hollow.

"Because that's the kind of man he was." Aerie put both of her hands upon Jaheira's shoulders, forcing the druid to look at her. "Jaheira… you blame yourself, but you can't keep doing it. We can't save everyone… it's one of the first things you 'taught' me, remember?"

Jaheira smiled in spite of herself... her memory flashed back to the moments shortly after they had left the De'Arnise Keep for the first time, their encounter in the girl's tent when Jaheira had gone to speak with her.

_"What is the matter, Aerie? You act as though we lost the battle. Pick yourself up." Jaheira said with a frown, looking down at the trembling Avariel in her tent, Aerie's eyes red._

_"We did lose, Jaheira! Nalia's father is dead and it's my fault! If I hadn't slowed the group... if I had just been faster, we could have gotten here in time and saved his life-"_

_"Wipe your tears, child!" Jaheira rebuked her, kneeling down and taking the Avariel by the shoulders, shaking her a bit. "What is done is done, and crying will not bring the dead back! I know this better than most."_

_"How… how can you be so cold, so insensitive? We could have saved him!" Aerie cried out as she looked up in shock._

_"Just like we could have saved Imoen from being taken, were we faster! Just like we could have saved Dynaheir, or Khalid!" Jaheira stopped abruptly, having said more than she intended... but she exhaled once, then continued. "Aerie, each day I live my heart aches with the thought that had I been faster or stronger… maybe Khalid would still be alive. Greywulf feels the same ache, that he could have saved Gorion if he had just done something… anything. We can't save everyone, Aerie; we do our best, and we give everything we have… but we just can't. Sometimes… everything we have just isn't enough."_

"You may be right, Aerie… it has been some time since someone has had to lecture me..." Jaheira said reluctantly, shaking her head as her body relaxed, losing its resistance to the girl. "Nonetheless… thank you. I… I think I will sleep now."

Aerie nodded, standing and turning from the druid, leaving the woman to undress and return to bed as Aerie headed to her own room. She closed her own door and slipped back into the bed with a brief smile. _How about that. Not only did I finish my mission, but I end up lecturing Jaheira... and what's more, I think she listened. Strange how much things can change in such a small time. The story of my life, I guess…_

X X X X X X

The first sensation that returned to him was pain. First in his arm... that was to be expected, he supposed. That's where Istar had cut him in their short but rather one-sided fight. Still, he would have died if not for the intervention of his then savior, Phaere. As that fact returned to his memory, he felt other limbs regain feeling. And every feeling that came back was pain. He tried to grit his teeth, tried to move his arms or torso, anything, but found himself to be securely bound, fastened to a chair, naked and bloodied.

Veldrin groaned, but even that was an effort... what had even happened? Phaere had saved him... but her hands might be worse than Istar's. Tortured... that's right. He'd been beaten within an inch of his life, only to be healed for the process to start again. Three times... or was it four? The thought that Phaere might have tired of the game and was going to have him killed now gave him a bit of fire, and he struggled briefly against his bonds, but he was quickly wheezing for breath, bent over and exhausted. His body might be free of open wounds and by no means ready to expire, but his strength was sapped and spent. It would take more than healing spells to restore his energy-

The sound of a heavy metal door opening behind him got his attention; he tried to crane his head, but it was no use... he dropped back down and looked at the dark steel walls before him, the spiked pillars at the corners he could see. The steady plod of footsteps growing closer and closer... a shadow darkened the single light in the room as it swept before him, stopping to gaze down at him. He looked up, swallowing as he stared into the eyes of his interrogator and captor. Phaere smiled, bending down to eye level with the captured drow.

"So... how are you feeling, my little spy?"

"Spy?" Veldrin tried to shake his head, but all he could muster was a weak tremble. "I don't-"

Phaere lashed out with a fist, cracking his head to one side. "You know how exquisite the tortures of the drow can be... do you want to experience every one of them? Now- you will tell me everything I wish to know. Perhaps we shall start with your name?"

Veldrin stared her in the eyes, hardening his jaw. "Veldrin. And I swear that's all you'll get from me."

She did not speak for a moment, then laughed. "I see. I had hoped you would say that." The drow woman produced a small box, opening it with the lid to Veldrin so he could not see what was inside. She let him sit in silence for a few more moments- despite himself, fear began creeping at him. She smiled, noting the sweat at his temples. She withdrew a vial from the box, showing it to him. "Do you know what this is?"

He did not answer; she shrugged and with drew a long needle from the box as well, uncorking the vial and dipping the needle into it. "It is a poison made from the venom of one of our spiders. Much like the venom Istar tried to kill you with... and what killed him. This however, is refined with spells, modified by magic- it will not kill you in such a small dose. It will however, cause the most excruciating pain you have ever felt. Like a fire running through your whole body..."

She jabbed the needle into the top of his hand, Veldrin hissing with the sharp pain... and then it hit. Everything she had said and more. His whole body began shaking with the swarming fire as it ripped through him-

Phaere smiled as she watched him shut his eyes tight with the pain, the woman letting the needle sit in his hand as she looked back at the box, her eyes drifting over the remaining contents, choosing another implement... there. She withdrew another needle and another vial. The cork popped off with a slight jerk of her thumb, and she dipped the needle into the black liquid, watching as it coated the tip. She looked back at Veldrin, the drow's teeth gritted tight as he forced his eyes open, staring at her with unbridled hatred. "Needles and poison... p-please. Got anything more?"

Her smile only grew... Phaere brought the second needle close to his eye, within an inch as the black poison collected at the tip. She brought it back and then stood, slowly stalking behind him leaning on his shoulders as she held the needle. "The poison of the guard spiders is painful... but its effects are nothing special. Just pain. Death, in a high enough amount. This, however... this is something special. You know of the phase spiders, I am sure."

Phaere bent down to Veldrin's face, whispering in his ear. "You're such a strong male... how many battles have you fought? How many wounds have you endured? How much resistance to the pain have you garnered, how many walls to the pain have you constructed in your own mind?"

Without warning, she thrust the needle into the side of his neck, Veldrin's eyes going wide as she did. "Now feel as every ounce of resistance you had to the pain, every bit of willpower you had to push it away... feel as it is all stripped away."

Down the halls of House Despana, Veldrin's screams echoed and chilled the bones of all who heard.

X X X X X X

It was hot... uncommonly so. Unusual in the Underdark, really. The caverns made ambient temperature low outside the city walls, but comfortably cold inside Ust Natha. Steel and metal walls, platforms suspended over the abyss below contained the icy touch of Lolth and made the whole city frosty with the fear of treachery that existed at all times and in all places. But it was hot. At least, it was hot to Solaufein. He stood alone in the tavern, gathering his strength. Despite the bustle and activity around him, he stood alone... and he knew it. There was nobody left he could trust... word had come to him that Istar Jae'llat was dead. His body had been found by the svirfneblin and returned to the drow at Ust Natha earlier that night.

He'd be a fool not to realize who was behind it- House Despana was finally consolidating its power within Ust Natha. The two major obstacles were House Jae'llat... and him. If they were moving on their rival House, then he would be next. Phaere would soon realize that she could not destroy him with her subtle jabs and prods, and she would move to more direct options. Assassins, traps, battles he could not win... death was coming. He could feel its icy touch, reaching, grasping for him as he fought it off again and again... but his will was fading fast. He was a warrior... this was not his arena. He could only fight so long...

"Solaufein... you're sweating. Something wrong?"

The sly voice, the crafty tone all spoke of her presence; the woman who still haunted his thoughts, whom he would do anything to be rid of... and whom he would do anything to have back. Solaufein turned to face Phaere, the strands of his white hair sticking to his face as he glared at the arched gaze she sent his way, trying to keep his face and expression neutral. "No. Nothing at all, Phaere. You were the one who demanded we meet in the morning, rather than as soon as the others returned from their tasks. The heretics have been destroyed-"

"Quite handily, I should add." she cut him off, turning from him to look towards the stairs leading down from the rooms. "Do you realize that they dispatched over twenty of the fools? Three of their slime creations? All without losing a single man. They might prove to be greater warriors than you, Solaufein."

"And what is your point, Phaere?" Solaufein said, feeling his muscles tighten despite himself. "All the better for the work of Lolth to be done."

Phaere laughed as the doors above them opened, revealing the five drow descending to them on the ground floor. She leaned over to him and whispered in his ear, "You know what this bodes. With them on the stage, you suddenly lose your... value. Your time is coming soon, Solaufein... I will have your head before the week is over."

Solaufein could say nothing more as the Nasadrians reached them, though the anger, the rage that filled him could not be contained fully. He turned from Phaere, gritting his teeth even as he barely heard the sound of the outsiders speaking their greetings, Phaere replying in her smug and condescending manner...

"Ahh… here come the warriors who have brought such glory to House Despana." Phaere smiled, taking the bloody helmet that Aerie offered and glancing over it. "I trust you will forgive my insistence on meeting this morning rather than last night- I had matters to attend to. You did well, female; your allies performed equally as well in handling the situation with the followers of Ghaunadaur."

Solaufein did not hide his disdain as he rolled his eyes and snorted loudly, though his keen eyes did spy the cloth wrapped around Aerie's hand as she gave the bloody helmet to Phaere. Interesting... "Hmph. I am sure the gnomes were suitably impressed by our display of viciousness. They had no inkling we were capable of such a feat."

"What is this? Are you losing your stomach for blood, Solaufein?" Phaere asked, her tone spiteful yet he could not help but hear the mocking within. "The Spider Queen would be displeased to hear such, I would think. Or is it your fear that you are increasingly... unimportant. Do not think I heard of your refusal to take part in the battle last night. These Nasadrians did all the work, and you abandoned your post against the svirfneblin. Hardly worthy of Ust Natha's 'greatest warrior', I think."

"I save my wrath for the drow's true enemies." Solaufein hissed, stepping up to Phaere and putting his face into hers, inches away. "Lolth knows this, as does the Matron Mother of my own House! Do you want my blood, woman?! Fight like a warrior and quit cowering behind the machinations and schemes of the weak. Or is your cowardice so great that you cannot stand the thought of actually soiling your hands? When was the last time you spilled blood on the field without the aid of a lowly male?!"

His words cut deep into the massive ego Phaere had; he could see it immediately and he laughed- at least on the inside. Seeing her so furious was almost worth the retribution that was sure to come. Still, her options of revenge were becoming limited- there would be but one option left before long. He felt her spit fly into his face as she screamed back, "Your words are an insult to House Despana and a sacrilege to Mother Lolth! I shall have your bloody heart ripped from your chest on the altar if you continue to speak!"

The muscular drow merely straightened up, sneering down at Phaere. "I call your bluff, arrogant one. Act and you risk open war between your House and mine. How would Mother Ardulace see that, I wonder?"

"It is almost worth it to silence your impudent tongue! If a Handmaiden were to see you speak to me such, she would flay you open without a second thought!" Phaere hissed, her hand going to the sword she carried at her side as though to make good on her threat-

Solaufein's hand shot out and caught Phaere's wrist, the drow's eyes widening in shock, unbelieving that Solaufein would actually dare to touch her, would dare to make a move against her- he pushed her hand away from the hilt of her sword, spinning and walking away as he tossed behind him, "You should be so lucky, Despana bitch."

She watched him stride away, her mouth working up and down as she tried to come up with something; a taunt to hurl at him, a threat to quiet his insolence... nothing came. He was out of sight before her wits returned; she turned to see the Nasadrians staring at her. "Cease your foolish stares and follow me!" she screamed, turning and motioning for them to follow.

They left the tavern of Ust Natha, saying nothing the whole time, even as the five members of the party exchanged glances of both worry and excitement... things were coming to a head, and their positions were nothing if not cemented within the upper echelons of House Despana. No, they had heard nothing about the eggs, but Phaere's confidence in them grew each day. Their last missions had been resounding successes, just as Phaere had said. Imoen glanced at Aerie's hand, the wrapped up bandage that covered the cut she had sliced to bloody the helmet she had given Phaere as 'proof' of the svirfneblin slaughter. Aerie gave her a comforting smile and they continued to follow, finally arriving at the Female Fighters Society Tower.

As soon as they had reached Phaere's quarters, she turned to them, her face no longer bearing any condescension or mocking, no enjoyment or appreciation. It was all business... all hatred. She inhaled sharply, then spoke. "You five have been invaluable in my service, and in the service of House Despana... but the time has come to cement our position as the pre-eminent House in Ust Natha. Now I need to know I can trust you... do you understand?"

Her words were vaguely unsettling; Keldorn cleared his throat and bowed low, slipping the air of subservience he felt would be appropriate. "Of course; we are but tools for the greater glory of Lolth and Despana."

"Words are all well and fine, Nasadrian..." Phaere's lips spread thinly- "But I need more than that. An example, if you would."

She turned and walked back to the purple-hued curtain that draped half of the wall behind her- bulging towards the bottom?- and ripped it down, revealing a bruised and battered drow, head hanging limp at his chest. Imoen glanced to her right and saw Minsc visibly stiffen; she noticed it right afterwards. Veldrin, their unofficial ally and spy- he had been captured by Phaere in some manner, and she had the sneaking suspicion that their encounter had not been on friendly terms.

"Now, before you ask, let me inform you that I spent a great deal of time... talking, with this male. Veldrin, I believe he called himself. Or at least, what I made out amidst his screams." Phaere purred, lifting his chin, before letting his head drop back down to his chest. "Did you know that in the art of torture, one can use up to seven different kinds of poison before the body completely expires? Each one inflicts a different degree of pain, of course... each one worse than the last. This one is to be commended... he made it all the way to five before telling me everything he knew."

"So... a drow prisoner. What is he to us?" Imoen asked cautiously, trying to look unimpressed despite the possibilities and plans racing through her head.

"I want you to tell me who he is to you." Phaere shrugged. "As I said, after speaking with him for an extended amount of time, I think I know all the secrets he has to offer. The question is how many of them concern you? Or do any at all? Tell me, who is he to you?"

There was a tense silence; finally, a clearing of the throat by Keldorn. "He is... he is one of us. An ally- a spy. Someone to watch our backs and aid us while we were outsiders."

Phaere nodded, drawing a wicked-looking dagger from her belt and gently laying it beside Veldrin's neck as she pulled his head up by the hair. "I see. What should be done with him? Shall I slit his throat and lay his body on the altar to Lolth?"

"No." Aerie tightened her nerve, raising one hand in protest. "He is... useful, to us. Whatever offense he may have committed, I assure you he will be duly punished."

The drow woman listened, remained unmoving for a moment longer- her hand was a blur of motion, sliding down behind Veldrin's arms and cutting the bonds loose so that he could collapse to the ground before them. Nobody made a move to catch him or aid him, unwilling to show such mercy and concern for a possible- friend? foe?- in the presence of one whom they so desperately needed to impress. Phaere sheathed her blade, nodding in satisfaction. "Good. He is a fine spy; he said as much when I... pressured him. I am impressed; few would think of such measures upon entering a city as outsiders. You should be grateful to him... he saved your life last night."

Aerie's eyes widened, but she covered it quickly, cocking her head in curiosity. "Truly?"

"Indeed." Phaere nodded. "Istar double-crossed us; he plotted to kill you instead of Solaufein. His intervention saved your life... and mine his, in the end. Not to say I did not push the outermost bounds of his tolerance for pain before ceasing my interrogation. He is quite hardy."

"Indeed." Jaheira murmured, looking down at the unconscious drow. "I hope we have passed your test, then. What would you have us do?"

"Finish what Istar, the fool, started." Phaere replied venomously, glaring at Jaheira. "You are aware of my relationship with Solaufein, yes? You do not need to stare at me blankly. Our animosity is open and obvious. His insolence is beyond all endurance; I cannot tolerate it further without risking my position in Lolth's hierarchy. But I also cannot take action that will be traced back to myself or my House without risking war. So you shall take action for me. You will kill Solaufein."

"And upon whom would the blame fall? We are your arm, but we shall not sacrifice ourselves blindly." Jaheira countered.

Phaere smiled at this; she nodded, placing one hand on the druid's shoulder. "Your cunning makes you powerful. Strong. Survivors... I like that. So unlike the majority of fodder I call servants. Nevertheless, you will share no blame in this matter; with Istar's body at my disposal, I can place the blame solely on the shoulders of House Jae'llat. Both of my foes eliminated in one stroke; a perfect maneuver. Still, if I am even suspected to be involved, things will fall apart. That is why it must be you who performs the deed. I shall take care of the details, but I need this one thing from you. Consider it the final stroke in securing your position among us."

They had no choice... the way she looked upon them, there was no room for lenience, or arguing. Her eyes brooked no failure. Only his death would satisfy her... and they could do nothing less. They were too far to turn back now... and yet, it was murder, pure and simple. The murder of a potential ally, if Veldrin's words were to be believed. And yet, if the drow had been interrogated so harshly, who knows what he might've revealed? What if he had given away their cover and Phaere was simply using them for one last act before unleashing the full might of Ust Natha upon them? Their fate rested in the willpower of the unconscious man before them- if he had failed, they were already dead. And yet, if they refused, at least in word, they were just as dead. So... the answer was obvious.

"Yes." Jaheira answered. "We will kill him. What proof do you require of the deed?"

Phaere opened her mouth as though so eager to speak the words, to see the death for her own eyes- she stopped suddenly, and to an onlooker who had not seen the animosity, the hatred that she bore for Solaufein in dialogues past, it might've- just maybe- have been interpreted as sadness. She closed her mouth, shaking her head just imperceptibly, as though erasing past demons from her mind. Still, the look of fierce passion and rage was not present... more of a dull anger- and regret. "Bring me his piwafi cloak. It shall suffice."

"It shall be done." Jaheira bowed, then looked back up, a question in her eyes. "What of Veldrin? Shall we take him back with us?"

"No... not just yet." Phaere considered with a renewed smile. "I have a task for him- something I think he will be most suited for. Fear not, should he succeed, he will be returned to you with all his faculties- whatever you desire them for- intact. Now go, and do not return until the male is dead."

Doors slammed and echoed, putting them back out onto the streets again, their target unwitting, only a few hundred yards away. The Male Fighter's Society Tower was even visible in the distance; shadowed and tall, but its inhabitants were powerful warriors who would not go down without a fight. Least of all the man they had been commanded to murder. Keldorn's voice came up first, low to avoid attention, but still full of the same dignity and power he had mustered in the past, "I will be the first to say I do not approve. We have killed for her before... but only in self-defense. We gave the worshippers of Ghaunaduar fair warning at the least, but this... this is nothing short of murder."

"We can't not kill him though- Phaere will have a hard time faking Istar's involvement if there isn't a body to point at and say, 'Look! Solaufein's been killed.' " Imoen reminded.

"Minsc... Minsc does not think Solaufein should be killed. Not like this. He is evil... but it is hard to explain. He is a warrior. Like Minsc and Boo... only darker. He does not fight for countries or kings- well, he does not want to. Boo says that we must find a better way." the ranger frowned, then nodded enthusiastically. "Yes, Boo has an idea. Should we follow his counsel? Minsc thinks so."

"And what does the mighty Boo have to say about this predicament we find ourselves in?" Imoen sighed, resting one hand on her hip as the four turned to Minsc, looking proudly down at his hamster.

"We tell him the truth."

X X X X X X

Click-clock.

Click-clock.

The sound was as dependable as it was unwarranted... or rather, unnecessary. That an elf- a drow even, would make such a rhythmic noise in such a den of serpents-spiders, really- was unthinkable. But it was rather therapeutic for him, to tell the truth. Click-clock. Click-clock. His boots on the metal and stone floors, echoing just loudly enough to be widely apparent to anyone nearby. Of course, he was expected, so there would be little chance of him being ambushed by the guard spider... Kitthix, she had called it. Not this time. No, she was expecting a full report from him; good news to cheer her in the wake of her son's death.

Click-clock.

He wondered if she had any idea what was about to happen to her. Any idea that his loyalty to House Jae'llat, which had been feigned at best to begin with, was totally gone and his only purpose there was her unequivocal death. Not that he relished the idea of killing her- nor the exertion he was sure it would take, especially after his 'session' with Phaere- but he had little choice in the matter. He almost snorted in disgust. That particular phrase had been tossed around far too much in the past days. Still, it was almost over, no matter what. Adalon, the surfacers, House Despana... their paths were all about to converge in one glorious ascent of power.

Click-clock.

The door to her quarters was just around the next corner, along with the guardians who would have gladly given their lives to stop the plot already formed and covered in his mind... not that they could do so, even if they were aware of his traitorous thoughts. He allowed himself a smile, then grimaced as his lip twinged with pain. The beatings he had taken while under the care of Ardulace's eldest daughter were not what hurt him most- not even the tortures by poison needles that she had inflicted upon him. It was the helplessness he had been subjected to- the inability to do anything to fight back. The necessity of his capture, the necessity of doing everything he possibly could, even unto the point of death, to further the cause of the five surfacers. And that wasn't even what bothered him. The idea that he might die without ever getting a chance to explain to the five... to tell them the truth... it gnawed at his soul. Made him stubborn enough to refuse to quit. Not that he'd have quit regardless; it just wasn't in him.

Click-clock.

Click-clock.

The guards before him bowed and stepped aside, one of the sword spiders chittering slightly and raising its foremost razor legs before skittering to the side and granting him passage to Mother Hindra's quarters. He stepped in and exhaled gently as he felt the vibration of the doors close behind him, trapping him- or her- inside with each other. He walked past the outer room and the carpeted grandeur, moving to the large study in the far back, where the form of his target already sat, her back to him. He wondered briefly if she would suspect his treachery right away, or whether she would be foolish enough to think he was still on her side in this matter.

"Veldrin... I told you to never return until I had summoned you. I have done so, and only at the direst circumstances... my son is dead. Istar has been killed." she stood and turned, the long robes hanging off her like the very shadows of night itself. Her eyes spoke nothing but untold fury, and though she may not have cared in any personal, private way for her son- his death had indeed upset her greatly. Veldrin considered his words carefully; with enough luck he might live to see another day. He folded his arms, ignoring the dull ache that still plagued every muscle of his body. Phaere's poisons were out of his system; he had been given several potions of healing, even a Greater Restoration had been cast upon him, bringing all the energy and will he had been drained of back in the simple words of an incantation. Still, the memory of all he had endured would not be lost so quickly; he covered it quickly and spoke to the menacing drow.

"I know of his death- word has spread quickly."

"Of course it has. That Phaere and her mother would spread the rumors of Jae'llat's demise so quickly is no surprise." she spat. "She seeks my downfall and any loss in prestige, any loss in aid is always her goal. I had hoped you and yours would kill her quickly, but you have done the opposite. Strengthened her while growing ever closer to the heights of their ranks."

"One must be trusted to inflict any damage upon betrayal." Veldrin reminded her, clenching and unclenching his fists. She was toying with him-

"As you know quite well!" Hindra shrieked, extending one hand as a pillar of dark flame came crashing down upon the location he had been standing not a half-second ago, her clerical magics ready and available at a moment's notice. Still, Veldrin was unharmed, merely a few singed hairs on his left arm. The drow came up in a roll, shaking his head in mock sympathy. "The fight begins so soon? I had hoped we would exchange a few more pleasantries before you made your attempt on my life."

"Do you think I became Matron Mother for nothing? That I did not know of your role in Istar's death?" she screamed, her rage palatable- another bolt of unholy glory flew past him, decimating a desk and table behind him. Veldrin grimaced once as shards of wood and metal rained over him, his forearm deflecting those which would have hit his face. She was engulfed in madness and rage- this fight would be tougher than he had predicted. "My boy was so foolish- I knew he would not follow the orders I gave him, and so my spells gave me sight into the very deeds he performed. I saw you emerge from the shadows... saw your foul treachery unfold. What's more... I heard his words about you and your companions. Surfacers!"

Veldrin felt the power of an Unholy Blight rain down upon him; he doubled over in pain as the magics washed through his body, gritting his teeth as he fought the impulse to curl up and lie down. "Guess... guess that means I'll simply have to kill you. Can't have you talking so idly about the others."

He straightened up, raising one hand as though to strike- a blast of lightning threw him across the room, bouncing off the metal walls as he shook his head, electricity playing over his body as he tried to free his mind from the growing cobwebs of darkness that ensnared him with each hit. He looked up to find the source- a groaning, shackled mess of bones and rotting flesh dragged itself into the room, the open eye sockets filled with nothing but eerie red light. Hindra sauntered over to the undead creature, draping one arm over the beast as she raised a small glowing stone, jaggedly pointed on one end and red as her eyes in her other hand. "Veldrin, I should like to introduce you to my latest... ally. Deirex once served Phaere, but she gave him to me for Istar's service... perhaps I may yet benefit from my foolish boy's death!"

Deirex howled, his magic focused through the noise and draining the life of the embattled drow before the two magic users. Hindra watched in feral delight as he tried to resist, fought so hard to withstand the Howl of The Lich... she saw the skin of her opponent crack and slowly turn to dust, revealing the bones beneath. Deirex suddenly ceased, grunting in confusion... there was no one there. The carcass, the deceased drow who had betrayed her son; Hindra blinked once... surely he couldn't have moved so quickly, she had seen him perish- "You're not the only one who came prepared to fight, Hindra."

She spun, finding Veldrin behind them both, his stance proud and strong, looking completely unharmed by any of the attacks she and Deirex had laid down upon him earlier. He tossed the slowly fading remains of a Simulacrum scroll at her feet. He smirked, then lashed one hand out, shouting words of arcane knowledge and origin. Bright colors and lights flashed from his hand and mouth, the Prismatic Spray blinding her even as Deirex rumbled in anger. Hindra intoned her own magics, dispelling the blindness which had plagued her momentarily- when she could see once more, Veldrin was nowhere to be found. She glanced down at Deirex, who was clutching the splinters of his exposed rib cavity in what appeared to be pain. "A fortunate blow... you shall not repeat it!" Hindra shouted, her own words echoing through the din of her own quarters. She planted her own back to Deirex as the two surveyed the room, trying to scry the location of their opponent... "Do you truly think you can win against our combined power?!"

Veldrin's infuriating chuckle echoed back, accompanied by the sound of a gurgle, and something sliding across the floor. Hindra's blood cooled slightly at the sight of Kitthix being tossed into the room from down the hall, its body half melted. "I'd say my odds are pretty good, if you must know."

She and Deirex immediately moved to where the guard spider had been stationed before meeting its demise... no one there. His magics, either transporting him magically or allowing him to conceal himself while he slipped by- Deirex intoned a True Sight, white light shining over everything... still no sign of the drow. Hindra spat a curse, shaking her fist in the air. "You almost fell to my pathetic son! What makes you think you have even the slightest chance at killing me and my lich?"

There was silence for a moment- the sound of her cabinet on the other side of the room slamming open got her attention, taken unawares as Veldrin leapt out, colliding with Hindra in a mass of arms and legs flailing. She found herself free of his weight in a moment- she slid to her feet as quickly as possible, finding him standing stock still with Deirex behind him, unmoving. "Why do I think I have any sort of chance, Hindra? I'll let you in on the secret... because for the first time, I'm actually trying."

Veldrin raised the soul stone he had taken from Hindra's robes during their tumble, then glanced back at the lich behind him, its posture now submissive to Veldrin. "Go take care of the guards outside. I want a clear path out when I finish in here, is that understood?"

The lich rumbled in reply, then shambled out of the room, leaving Hindra and Veldrin alone, her mouth open and closed, trying to find some words, some curse sufficient to contain the hatred she felt for him in that moment... all she could find was a hoarse screech, raising her hands high as she called down the lightning. Called down the thunder. All the power that her dark gods endowed her with... it all came crashing in on Veldrin in one terrible blast... and seconds before it hit, she saw his form split into nine different copies, each one flitting aside, leaving only two to be engulfed in the maelstrom of destruction she had summoned.

"What's wrong, Hindra? Finally seeing the death you've earned coming for you?" one copy of Veldrin taunted. Hindra's hands glowed green with the necromancy she worked; two large skeleton warriors erupted from the earth, tracking down the swift moving images that dodged her every move, haunted her every step.

"You're dead, Hindra. You're a walking corpse. Just like these skeletons." another copy laughed, just before the undead monster sliced it in half with his blade. All six remaining copies began their magics, sending a flurry of magic missiles swarming at Hindra, the woman not even bothering to deflect them, only enduring their sting and pain, hoping to spy which had conjured the real ones- She spat words to a surge of poison, the venomous magic hurtling through the air to kill the one to her left- it disappeared as well, narrowing the field again. A skeleton warrior had cornered one of the Veldrin's that still moved through the room; the drow darted left and grabbed a shattered piece of metal that had been torn from the walls by the magics unleashed earlier by the lich. Veldrin spun the makeshift staff to parry the sword and instead slammed it back to ring against the helm of the warrior, the undead beast staggering to the side with the impact.

Hindra hissed in victory as she saw the drow follow up his attack, spinning and whirling the staff like a dervish, raining blows upon the monster, finally clubbing off the arm that held the sword, ending with a chest strike that collapsed the skeleton into dust. Veldrin turned, looking to see where the next attack would come from- a swarm of scorpions and insects came pouring from the drow priestess, sweeping over the floor towards him. He tried to dance away, the flood of insects just inches from his feet- he thrust both hands out and spoke a few words of power; a Burning Hands ignited, scorching and engulfing the mass that continued to pour at him. He gritted his teeth as he tried to maintain the fire, even as the last of his copies was overwhelmed, the remaining skeleton warrior heading straight for him. Veldrin lowered one hand as the fire died from it, reaching into his robes for the red stone that lay within as the insect swarms drew ever closer to his feet-

An entire wall beside them ripped open with the power of the lich beyond, Deirex raising one hand as it roared with power, its withered and craggy hands raised to smite down the last skeleton warrior with ease. Even as it disintegrated under the lich's power, it turned to the swarms of insects, creaking out another set of incantations. Brown dust swept over them all, leaving nothing but crumbling husks and dried shells. It lowered its hands, his power slowing as it awaited Veldrin's new order- it screeched as the unholy energy of the priestess began turning him, severing the bonds that held him to the Material Plane- Deirex howled one last time as he exploded, bones and ragged cloth scattering in all directions.

Veldrin raised one arm to protect himself from the exploding bones of the lich; the sound of footsteps rapidly approaching raised his senses. He looked up just in time to see Hindra hurtling across the room, tackling him to the ground, his head snapping back to crack against the stone floor. His vision swam, just clear enough to see the priestess draw a dagger with one hand, her other around his neck. "Mock and taunt now, Veldrin!" she screeched, bloodlust consuming her as she gripped harder, the dagger rising high as she prepared to strike him down. "Laugh, jaluk! Laugh at your betters now!"

The dagger came down in a flash- it stopped right before his throat, Hindra gagging in shock and surprise. Her shaking eyes drifted down to Veldrin's hands; the soul stone of Deirex was clutched in both his hands; it was lodged in her chest, directly over her heart. Blood dripped down the rock and ran over his chest and hands, the sound of muscle and bone and flesh tearing echoed far too loudly as Veldrin rammed it in ever further, Hindra's body spasming with each jolt. She tried to push the dagger she held down anyway- he pushed her off, shoving the dying priestess across the room and away from him as she gasped for breath, the magical stone still lodged in her chest as she tried in vain to pull it out, her ebbing strength not nearly great enough.

Veldrin stood, wiping his hands on his robes, the blood staining the dark gray he wore. She caught his eyes, her mouth opening for a final tortured whisper. "W...who are- who are you?!"

The drow laughed, glancing behind him once to ensure he was safe. "What? You don't believe I am 'Veldrin' of Ched Nasad? A wise deduction, but ultimately too late."

He turned away from the woman as blood pooled around her... he walked away, only pausing briefly to reply. "Who am I, Hindra? Nobody important- just a grey wanderer. A lone wolf in the dark..."

He smiled at that last statement. "But not alone for much longer."


	69. Part 3: Unlikely Alliance

_The shadows in the dark grew long as he suppressed the urge to shiver in the outer caverns, seated naught but a few hundred meters away from the cast iron gates of Ust Natha. The drow elf was not one to fear any fight, nor any foe who would oppose him on the battlefield. He was Solaufein, already regarded by most if not all as the greatest warrior in Ust Natha. He had shattered the skulls of illithid, blinded the eye tyrants. He had ventured deep into the heart of the Kua-Toa realm and lived to tell the tale, narrowly escaping after engaging in single combat with the Kua-Toan prince. _

_Yet here, alone in the dark, he was afraid. Not for himself, most certainly not. His sword was sharp, his armor thick. He had trained himself long ago to detect assassins and thwart their attempts on his life; he had killed four just this past year. One in particular had carried a stone to access the spell Dimension Door over short distances, and it was with Solaufein now, providing him with a last-ditch defense if all else failed. There was no enemy he feared, amidst the Underdark or upon the surface. But here he was afraid. Afraid for the danger he was placing not just himself in, but the one whom he loved. Love... he nearly laughed aloud at the thought of such a notion. It had been drilled into him from birth that 'love', rather, love as he felt it now, was a foolish weakness, just waiting to be exploited. An un-drow emotion, at the very best. Cause for murder, blackmail, assassination, any number of deadly consequences at worst. _

_The sound of a rock sliding from its precarious perch above echoed through the darkness, setting him on edge. He listened with his keen, pointed ears for a while longer, then sighed, lowering his guard, or as much as he would allow himself to lower it in these places. Nothing. Just a bit of displaced stone, probably something that had been waiting to fall for years-_

_"Solaufein... I'm surprised. Didn't you hear my little warning sign?"_

_That voice... he closed his eyes with relief, turning to face the woman he knew would be waiting for him. He stepped forward and took her hands in his own, looking with relief at the beautiful features of Phaere, daughter of Ardulace. "Your presence clouds my senses, lowers my guard... I could have never seen you coming; not here, and not into my heart."_

_Her smile only broadened at his words; she always told him he had the soul of a poet or a bard, but it was she who gave the inspiration, she who was his muse. He leaned down to her and their lips met gently, the two forgetting their troubles, their worries, abandoning it all for one blissful moment. They parted, much too soon for both of them, but their times were limited. Relaxation, losing themselves in each other was not a luxury they had. He glanced towards the entrance he had come in, then towards the back of the cavern, where she had presumably snuck in. "You were able to slip out again?"_

_"Of course." Phaere nodded. "I told my mother that I was going to make another visit to the duergar trading post and ensure that their tribute to us was satisfactory. She balked for a moment or so, but there was nothing more pressing at the time, so she did not question further."_

_Solaufein sighed, looking at her with concern deep in his eyes. "My love, you must promise me you will be more careful. Every time we meet like this, you know that the chance of Ardulace discovering us grows strong. You know as well as I what would happen if she found out."_

_"She will not." Phaere said defiantly, raising one hand to brush across Solaufein's cheek. "I am her eldest... none of my younger sisters have ambition or power close to me. She cannot afford to have me killed- and aside from that, she doesn't know."_

_She leaned in to kiss Solaufein again, but he held her back, unwilling to drop the subject so quickly. "But she suspects, yes? She knows of our attraction; she has seen us together before."_

_"And as I have told you in the past, she thinks that my feelings for you are nothing more than what I would have for any other lowly male... a mild flirtation, a dalliance for my own physical needs at best." Phaere cut him off, putting his arms around her as the two of them stood alone in the dark. "Be at peace, lover... give it time. Someday I shall be Matron Mother, and there will be nobody to stand in our way. Now cease your worries and relax for this brief time. Here, warm yourself with this."_

_Phaere produced a small package she had kept in her pack, handing it to him, the drow arching one eyebrow in curiosity as he unwrapped it- a large piwafi cloak, magic enchantments of protection woven into the material. She took it from him and gestured for him to turn so that she could put it on him._

_He wanted to say something more as she worked the clasp, fastening the cloak to sit around his neck, argue the point, advise her to exercise caution... but he said nothing. For the time, there was little he could do other than what they had been doing, and pray for their safety. Her safety. Phaere... his love- _

He sat up with a start, flinching as he realized what had happened. A moment of weakness, letting himself fall into memory, dropping his guard. This time the guard was for himself, not for anyone else. Not for a lover who was tragically too open with her feelings, inviting reprisal and consequences from her mother. Now, that woman was dead. And the consequences for him were worse than he could have imagined... a creak at the stairs that led up to his room snapped his head towards the disturbance, his eyes narrowing.

It was inevitable, he supposed. He knew it was coming, the only questions were when and who. As soon as he heard the door to his own quarters swing open, he grimaced, slightly shifting his weight so he would be ready to leap toward the left at a moment's notice, a position from where he could use a desk and table as cover from possible archers, or at the very least something to position between himself and his would-be assassins. Solaufein let himself smile in acceptance, realizing that once it had begun, it would not end until he was dead, or House Despana was fallen.

The shadows in the Male Fighter's Society House flickered as figures darkened the hall leading to his room- it figured. She wouldn't entrust his death to one man or woman... she'd make sure the job was done well. Phaere was nothing if not efficient... he grimaced, holding his blade tighter. Just another of the things that made her such a dangerous opponent. If he ever got the chance to return this favor, he'd keep that in mind. Solaufein braced himself as he caught his first look at the intruders- he swallowed, realizing just who had been sent. Perhaps he might not get a chance to take his own vengeance after all.

Jaheira arched one eyebrow as she strode into the room, spotting their target standing across the room, slowly lowering a greatsword. She did a quick once over of the room, ensuring there were no other obvious threats- they would have to be prepared. Even if the drow was not hostile now, there was every chance that before they were done speaking, he would be after their blood, with little recourse other than to kill him as Phaere had commanded. Of course, if Veldrin had betrayed them, this would all be for naught in the end. An all or nothing gamble they were forced into taking- and Jaheira hated gambling.

"Solaufein. You look surprised to see us." Keldorn remarked carefully to the muscular drow elf as he exhaled slowly, though his body posture remained at guard, wary enough that none of them felt approaching any further than the doorway would be appropriate without alarming him.

"No... not entirely. I should have expected it would be you, truly." Solaufein sighed, cocking his head to one side. "Phaere took such great pleasure in flaunting the skills you possess; she even boasted that it would be you who replaced me. It is only fitting that your final test would be in this manner."

The five outsiders said nothing for a few seconds; Solaufein stepped forward expectantly. "Well? Have you no spine? No backbone? I am no fool, regardless of what lies Phaere has spewed about me in your presence. Make your attempt on my life and let us be done with this; if I am to die today, I would welcome a departure from the twisted webs of deceit that haunt my every step and engage in simple warfare."

Imoen's breath caught as she listened to his words, watched Solaufein's posture switch from guard to offensive, blade coming up to strike in a few seconds if he was not attacked himself- it was now or never. She glanced over at Minsc- the ranger shook his head, raising one hand in an attempt to show him they were no threat. At any other time it might have been considered folly on their part to use Minsc as their spokesman, but Solaufein was a warrior, through and through. If anyone could relate to him, see things and convince him of their intentions, it would be the ranger.

"We have not come here to fight with you, Solaufein." the massive ranger stopped short of the reach of Solaufein's blade, just in case the drow felt like striking instead of listening and gaining an early advantage in the battle- "You are right. Phaere told us to come here and kill you. We do not wish to do so."

It was silent in the room, neither side saying anything, the only sound that of their breathing as Solaufein watched them; one could almost see the wheels turning inside his head as he tried to uncover the meaning behind the words, tried to see the deception that was surely coming, the attack on his flank-

Minsc unfastened his axes and dropped them on the floor before Solaufein, taking another step, now well within the drow elf's range. "We do not lie. An offer from allies, if you will take it."

Aerie swallowed as they waited for him to respond; one simple movement and Minsc would be dead, unable to defend himself. With all their weapons lowered as well, it could easily be two of their number down before anyone could contemplate dodging or blocking... she prayed to Baervan he would not behave as every other drow she had ever met in this hellhole-

Solaufein stepped back, lowering his blade halfway, though the look in his eyes still spoke of severe mistrust. He circled to the left, moving around towards Imoen and Jaheira and the back of their group. He motioned for them to move further into the room as he continued to circle, finally ending up between them and the door. He closed it without turning, locking it tightly, then, finally, sheathed his blade. He raised his head, looking down upon them with discerning eyes and a hard stare. "You claim to be allies; I have heard that line far too many times coming from a would-be assassin or murderer. Tell me the truth, and I shall decide my allegiances."

"Minsc?" Keldorn glanced at the Rashemani warrior, the ranger nodding as Keldorn took a step forward to speak for them all. "You think we are drow warriors from Ched Nasad. It is a lie... all of us, every one, are surfacers. Humans, half-elves, elves... we have been sent by Adalon, the silver one."

Solaufein laughed, looking off to the wall with a wry shake of the head. "Incredible... the mighty city of Ust Natha, infiltrated by not one but five surfacers, sent by the silver dragon of all beings. I should have guessed you were not drow sooner, perhaps... your mannerisms, your names, even. This foolish war on the surface has made us weak. So then, surfacers... why are you here? Why would the dragon have put you in this den of vipers, and moreover, why would you agree to such madness?"

"We were following a mage and a vampire... they came through this city. Brokered some kind of deal for safe passage." Keldorn continued, glancing back towards Imoen with a hint of concern. "They took something that was most... valuable, from us. As for the dragon's mandate, her eggs were stolen by someone in power here. She aided us in entering the city in exchange for the safe return of her offspring."

Solaufein nodded, understanding. "I know a little of this. The Matron Mothers claim the silver dragon guarding the entrances to the surface elves' temple would no longer be a hindrance. In fact, it was Mother Ardulace that made that announcement. I believe she would hold the eggs you seek… but I do not know where such things would be kept."

He paused for a moment, shaking his head in disbelief once more. "Incredible... that five spies could gain such power within Ust Natha. That is what you sought in your time at Phaere's side, yes? To gain power so that you could find the eggs. Masterfully done... but this brings me to my final question. Why would you even consider telling me these things? What about me makes you think I might be even the slightest bit trustworthy? Why shouldn't I inform Phaere and Ardulace of these things and make myself a hero so great that no assassin would dare touch me for fear of retribution?"

Hearts thudded like drum beats as Solaufein's words echoed through the room, and nobody quite knew what to make of the challenge, or how to answer. Finally, it was Minsc who spoke again. "You are not like the others. You are a warrior... and Minsc can see good in you. Nowhere else down here has he seen it in."

"Good... in me?" Solaufein laughed, walking back towards the chair in one corner of the room, collapsing within it. "You have no idea the atrocities I've committed in the name of Lolth... a goddess whose every decree has led to naught but suffering in my life."

His eyes drifted towards the ceiling, and it was amazing to see the mighty drow warrior in such a state, usually so proud and angry, so confident and defiant. He dropped his face into one hand, then looked up to meet their expectant gaze. Finally, he spoke. "I will not betray you. I have fought too long, suffered too much at the hands of those I called friend and ally to remain tethered to them. None of this... none of this deceit, this darkness appeals to me. Since you are from the surface, I will tell you something I would tell no other- the Spider Queen holds no sway over my heart. I worship Lady Silverhair, Eilistraee, and like her I believe that my people have strayed from the path."

He did not meet their eyes after he said this, almost as though he expected them to think less of him after the admission; he quickly regained his composure and determination, exhaling a short breath and standing up. "So then. For all our speeches and all our 'alliances,' we must still fight, yes? Phaere demands my death, and nothing less than my head as proof shall suffice, I am sure. I will not give myself to you easily, but know that I do not begrudge you this fight, nor will I enjoy the toll I exact in this battle."

"Think again." Imoen said, her face splitting in a grin of relief, finally out of danger. "She doesn't want your head, Sol. Just your cloak... piwafi, I think she called it?"

He hesitated in confusion... Solaufein paused as if wanting to say something, or maybe to convince himself- no. He shook his head and let himself smile grimly with acknowledgment. "A fortunate turn of events then... I shall gladly surrender this to you if it will save both of us."

Aerie took the large cloak from Solaufein as he unclasped it and folded it, handing it to her. The Avariel studied his eyes; she caught his gaze and asked gently, "Solaufein... what happened? Why does she hate you so desperately?"

Solaufein inhaled sharply, and it seemed for a moment that she had intruded too far with her question, but the drow elf spoke quietly, sorrow tinging every word he spoke. "Phaere and I were… lovers, once. Mother Ardulace felt Phaere that cared for me in a most un-drow like fashion, and when she found out the extent of our relationship... she had her taken by the Handmaidens. They tortured her with tentacle rods- tortures I can only shudder at the thought of. When they were done all that remained of Phaere was her ambition. And I… I remained as a constant reminder of her weakness. This cloak- it was a gift from her. Given on the last time we met before she was discovered and... reeducated."

"Perhaps... perhaps she is not as far gone as you think." Aerie suggested quietly. "Asking for the cloak instead of your head-"

"No." Solaufein cut her off swiftly, a hint of bitterness entering his tone. "I have died a thousand times over inside, hoping there was some way to reach the woman I once loved, only to be cut down mercilessly each time. I shall not expose my self to such vulnerability again."

"Phaere's planning on blaming your death on House Jae'llat, justification for the destruction of their House." Jaheira pressed, turning the subject to more pressing matters. "You cannot stay here, or even let it be known that we spared your life."

"True. What then do you suggest?" Solaufein frowned, weighing the options he suddenly found himself faced with.

"You could join with us." Imoen said with hesitation, Solaufein looking at her with a hint of incredulity. "As soon as we find the eggs, we're heading back to Adalon's lair, and she'll provide us with a way out of the Underdark. If you really want to get out of this place... now's your chance."

"Leave? Abandon this place and all it represents? Nothing would please me more... but the risk. Attempting to leave could easily destroy both you and I- but perhaps it might be time. It has been a long time since I felt complete... satisfied with any portion of my life. The surface, as daunting a prospect as it may be, could be the right choice for me." Solaufein murmured. "The elves above will find little love in their hearts for me, I am sure. The entrance that your Adalon speaks of is undoubtedly the same one that the drow used to invade the temple of the elves. They will find me little better than the drow they have fought for many weeks now, just as your dragon would see me as a threat to her offspring."

"We'll handle it- our word's got to count for something, right?" Imoen said with a smile; Keldorn and Jaheira exchanged glances. Letting the drow warrior come with them was never part of the plan, but they did owe him much for his cooperation- and besides, Imoen had already extended the offer. Keldorn made a mental note to warn her about informing the rest of the party before making such decisions.

"Then... then I suppose I shall escape the Underdark alongside you. Still, I will wait until your mission here has been fulfilled." Solaufein said, his expression just slightly dazed, as though he was still realizing the full extent of the decision he was making. "I shall hide myself in the city and keep watch; the activities of war should allow me to blend in unseen. When you are ready to leave, I will know, and meet you somewhere outside the city."

He moved to the door, unlocking it and opening it to leave- he turned once, frowning as though struggling to find the right words. "Thank you… for your mercy. Long have I desired to stand on the surface and see the moon of my Eilistraee… perhaps that day might come soon. Farewell."

X X X X X X X

The only sound in the chambers of Phaere, daughter of Ardulace and eldest in line to rule House Despana, was absolute silence. A breathless void, a frozen look as the five party members awaited judgment on their fate. Phaere stood still, holding the piwafi cloak before her, studying it as though to determine the validity of the proof it represented. Phaere's eyes traced the lines of the cloak, lingered over every pattern sown into it, fingers feeling the cloth as she took it all in.

Keldorn's peripheral vision caught sight of Jaheira's hand slipping down towards the dagger at her belt, just in case- Phaere's voice broke the silence. "He… Solaufein is dead, yes?"

Her eyes met Jaheira's, and the druid nodded once, giving nothing up by her posture or by any hesitation. Oddly enough, the drow woman did not smile, did not break out into an ecstatic fit of smug joy or triumph... if anything, it seemed that her posture drooped, her face grew crestfallen. Still, it was temporary. Gone in an instant, she was once more the ambitious drow from before. "Yes, of course… of course he is dead."

She discarded the cloak, tossing it to the side of her quarters in the Female Fighter's Society House, exhaling with relief as she smiled broadly. "My highest congratulations to all of you. You have performed better than I could have asked, and thanks to you, both House Jae'llat and Solaufein are no longer a problem. While you were handling the fool, your ally Veldrin accomplished the task I set for him."

"It was a pleasure to serve, as always." Veldrin bowed from his corner of the room, the drow only taking a half moment to glance at the others with an 'I-told-you-so' look on his face. Apparently he had sensed their hesitation in taking his word as anything more than lies; he took great pleasure in proving himself trustworthy. Imoen met the glance and returned it with a not-so-polite gesture of the hand, quickly lowering it before Phaere saw the exchange.

"You have earned your place at the sides of the powerful, the favored, in House Despana." Phaere announced, one hand on the hip plate of her armor as she raised her hand, gesturing to encompass all of them in the proclamation. "It is now time to introduce you to the Matron Mother of House Despana. Mother Ardulace is anxious to see those who have done so much for Ust Natha- follow her commands, obey and serve her as well as you have served me, and you will be given more power than you could ever dream of. We leave for the Temple of Lolth now... she is waiting."

Phaere turned and led the way as they descended the stairs back towards the streets of Ust Natha, for the first time with Veldrin at their side, walking in stride with Jaheira. Veldrin suppressed a smile as he glanced at the observers and other pedestrians on the street, all whispering amongst themselves and gesturing towards the group. "Made quite an impression in this place, haven't you?" Veldrin said through a smile, keeping his voice low so Phaere could not hear. "I hope I've convinced you of my loyalties; that wrestling match of ours was really more for fun than anything else. Did you take my advice about this last mission?"

"Yes. Speaking of which, Phaere said you took care of House Jae'llat." Jaheira said stonily. "You murdered Hindra, didn't you?"

Veldrin shifted his gear, avoiding the woman's eyes. "I did what was necessary to keep you alive. If that means I killed a woman who would have gutted you in a second, then yes."

"Good then, that you are proven our ally." Jaheira whispered mildly, before leaning in with more than a hint of threat in her voice. "But I still do not trust you. You are not all you seem… and if I feel that at any time you are endangering us, the mission, or the eggs, I will not hesitate to kill you where you stand. Understand? It will end."

"You seem to have quite the issue with trust, Jaheira." Veldrin said with an arched eyebrow, glancing surreptitiously towards Phaere to make sure she had not heard anything that they had said. "Do the rest of your comrades have to endure these threats and accusations of betrayal?"

Jaheira flinched- his words cut deeper than he knew. Her face tightened and she did not say another word, only moved from his side to be alone in the train as it moved closer to the Temple. Veldrin watched her leave his side, exhaling quietly. Perhaps that had been something of a low blow. Nobody said another word to him the rest of the journey- they arrived within the hour, the Temple of Lolth before them. It was the largest and grandest of the structures in the city they had seen thus far; long spikes stood tall among this rooftop, and two giant statues of drow warriors flanked the entrance to the long black marble stairs in to the temple. Above the double doors of the building was a large image of a spider, ready to prey upon all those who walked beneath her. The gleaming opal eyes of the stone spider unnerved them as they entered, as though the very eyes of Lolth were upon them, seeing deep through their disguises and into their hearts.

No temple guard or war party met them as they passed through the doors inside though, and they were soon escorted to the center court, the altars of Lolth sprawled out before them in great number, blood staining the floor and tops of the altars. Walking towards them was a female drow in ceremonial garb, covered in ancient script and glyphs. Tattoos covered her face and arms, script of the tongue of the drow, arcane symbols and grotesque designs of Lolth. She was definitely older than Phaere, though with her elven heritage it was impossible to determine just how old she was.

Phaere stepped forth and bowed, then gestured to Veldrin and said, "Matron… these are the warriors I spoke to you of."

"I can see them well enough, fool girl." Ardulace said brusquely, her robes trailing behind her as she descended a small set of steps to close the gap between them. "You think I am blind? Ehh… I see nothing special about them. What fascinates you so?"

"Matron, they are excellent fighters, mages… and they were the ones who dispatched House Despana's... other problem." Phaere answered, looking around furtively.

"These?" Ardulace asked in surprise. "Illithids, eye tyrants, gnomes… and the mighty Solaufein? Are you certain, daughter? Look at that one there, he is nothing more than a whelp, scrawny- and there is… something… odd…"

Jaheira's heart froze as Ardulace studied Veldrin. Out of all of them, he should have drawn the least suspicion, and yet she seemed to drawn to him for some reason. Some aura perhaps- she had noticed it too, but written it off to nothing more than suspicion about his presence among them. Perhaps she should have paid more attention as well-

Jaheira's hand tightened around her spear just as Phaere spoke, "I am positive, matron, that he- all of them, could prove of great use to you."

"Ehh… perhaps. Let them take action, then, if they are to become so favored in the eyes of House Despana!" Ardulace commanded, pointing a long nailed finger at the group. "Pay attention. The eye tyrant you killed coming from their so-called city. It was not the right type- I told the girl, here, which type I required and that was not the one."

"But matron, I…" Phaere began in protest.

"Silence, girl! I'll not swallow your lies! Speak again and I'll send you into the pits of Lolth… would you like to deal with the drider again so soon, girl?" Ardulace snapped. "Now, Nasadrians… you have proven yourself as competent. This is good; House Despana needs competence, a rare commodity when one is surrounded by fools. House Despana is about to embark on the path to greatness. You can tie yourself tightly to us; Mother Lolth approves of the successful. But I require something rather rare to begin this path- you might acquire it for me. So I shall give you the task and see if you can earn Despana's favor. I need the blood of one of the neighbor races. The noble races only, and blood from one of their most powerful members. A dangerous task- your first option is to acquire the blood of an Elder Orb, most powerful of the eye tyrants. It's blood or its eye; I bade the fool girl to do this, but she failed."

"The Spelljammer tyrant was supposed to be an elder, matron! I swear that this is what the spies reported. They must have exaggerated!" Phaere pleaded, the others realizing what had taken place earlier.

"SILENCE!" Ardulace shouted, her very presence cowing the girl before her. "You should have checked on it yourself, girl! Do you rely solely on these outsiders to be your strength and wits?!"

"No, matron, I do not." Phaere said quietly.

"Enough! Should you go after the Elder Orb, you will no doubt find one in their tunnels in the southeastern portion of the main caverns. Otherwise, you will have to enter the city of the illithids, and find the Elder Brain. Kill it and bring its blood. Your last option is to enter the caverns of the Kua-Toa in the Western caverns of the Underdark. They are ruled by a Prince, whose blood will also do. Regardless, bring me the blood of one of these creatures. House Despana awaits your return… but do not tarry. This is my command."

Her command was just as easily a dismissal, and the party bowed and left Phaere and Ardulace behind. They did not speak until they were far from the Temple of Lolth, the walls of the structure not even in sight. Finally, alone in the back streets of the platforms of Ust Natha, the whole of the party stopped to finalize their plans, time of the essence. "So... you plan to tag along with us for the rest of our time here." Imoen studied Veldrin. "Fine then... just don't do anything to make us kill you, all right?"

"As you wish, Imoen." Veldrin nodded. "The eggs are my primary concern, of course. As they are yours."

"Well, since Veldrin is the most knowledgeable about the Underdark amongst us, I suggest we take advantage of that fact." Keldorn said, gesturing to the drow. "Which of these foes do you suggest we clash with? I would not think a city of mind flayers an easy task, though beholders are just as deadly. I have heard little of these Kua-Toa, but if they survive in the Underdark then they must be hardy."

"Anything but beholders." Imoen said with disgust. "Those floating eyes always following you around, staring at you right before they blast you… gives me the creeps."

Veldrin glanced at her, an amused look to his face, before he said, "I have gathered little information of these particular areas. There will be few beholders to fight, but they will be the hardest lot to fight through. Even a few can prove deadly, as I'm sure you all know."

"Indeed." Keldorn grunted, memories of his fight with the beholders with the Unseeing Eye cult flashing in his mind.

"The Kua-Toa are a fish-like race, their sole purpose being the destruction of other life, then feasting on their remains. They are much like the Sahaugin, though smaller, more vicious, and crueler. They do not travel in small numbers, and to face a city of them will be difficult indeed."

"Eww… more fish." Imoen wrinkled her nose.

"The mind flayer city will be interesting, to say the least." Veldrin said loudly, tossing a disapproving look to Imoen. "Their numbers are never enormous, but enough to pose a danger. If it were merely illithid, it should be little problem, as their prowess in battle is not in fighting, but they will have umber hulks with them. A danger unto themselves. Still, you proved that you are capable of handling them without too much trouble when rescuing Phaere."

"I don't suppose there's a goblin city anywhere we could wipe out instead." Imoen voiced hopefully, ignoring Veldrin's glare.

"So… you're suggesting the mind flayers." Aerie said.

"I am not the leader of this group, as I'm sure some of you would love to point out." Veldrin bowed. "It is therefore your decision."

Keldorn listened, then glanced at the others. No real objections... their goal so close- no time for hesitation or second guessing. "Lead the way, Veldrin. We make for the illithid city."


	70. Part 3: Two Betrayals

"Stay close. Their city will not idly be left open. When we encounter guards, we must kill them before they alert the Master Brain- I have heard terrible stories of the power it wields. Some say it can kill you with a mere thought... we shall find out soon enough, eh?" Veldrin whispered behind him as the party snuck towards the large, purple doors.

They had found the entrance to the illithid city through the tunnels to the south-east, nearby the place where they had rescued Phaere. It appeared as alien as the mind flayers themselves; at first glance, the structures, gates, all of their buildings looked like purple stone with gold swirls and patterns on it, but it was not. It appeared more… alive, the gold designs as tentacles writhing upon it. A buzzing in the back of their heads appeared as they crept closer, a side effect of the tremendous psionic power that was emanating from the city.

Veldrin cast a True Sight spell, making sure there were no hidden or invisible watchers, and then motioned for them to continue onward. They moved forward, and with a moment of silence, Keldorn flung open the gate so that Minsc and Jaheira could leap inside with Imoen, Aerie and Veldrin right behind. Keldorn brought up the rear, blade drawn and swung downward to offensive guard as the others spread out in perfect formation; their form and timing was excellent. They had the element of surprise. Minsc and Jaheira were ready to attack immediately, Aerie and Veldrin to cast their spells, Imoen to stay back with ranged support, and Keldorn to stay back and protect the support row. There should have been nothing that could withstand their assault. Nothing physical, that is.

The moment Keldorn's feet touched the floor inside the city, the sound of a slithering movement erupted from behind them. All their heads whirled to see the gold inlay on the purple doors sliding together as if alive, shutting the portal behind them in a mix of purple and yellow. Aerie's eyes widened and she began speaking her incantations, Jaheira only a half second behind her as they tried to protect the party from the psionic blasts that were sure to follow- but whether a half second or longer, they were nowhere fast enough. A bright flash ignited from four different corners of the room, chittering voices and alien tongues invading their minds and driving needles of pain through their heads. Veldrin, Imoen, Aerie, and Minsc all fell to their knees, their minds overwhelmed by the power of the mind flayers' trap. Keldorn struggled to stay up, his eyes barely open as he watched Jaheira stagger towards the door, swinging the shaft of her spear in a feeble attempt to bring it down- she slid to the floor in a heap, leaving him the only one still conscious.

His vision split into doubles and triples, the world spinning around him- the sound of a door opening behind him spun him around, facing two illithid who's chittering was like a gong inside his mind. He tried to rush forward, tried to fight- another psionic blast hit him, and then a third, finally bringing him down. The last thing he saw was the chittering tentacles upon the faces of the illithid coming for them.

X X X X X X

Jaheira's head was pounding as she slowly pushed herself to her feet, her eyes almost blind, not because of light or dark in the room, but because opening her eyes caused such pain. Nevertheless, she managed to squint enough to see herself in a small room, the walls solid purple and gold. _Illithid._ Jaheira cursed herself for falling into such a simple trap. They had been well prepared for any initial guards; assuming that once the first guard was taken by surprise they would then cast mental protections, but had neglected the fact that the illithid were not fighters. It made no sense to have an exorbitant guard, even composed of umber hulks, when they could set a simple psionic trap that would be simple for them to craft.

She finally managed to open her eyes fully and saw the rest of the group still unconscious, all lying together in the tight room. There were two doors she could see, but both proved to be locked after a quick pull on each. She also noted that the illithid had left them their weapons; odd, but she supposed she should be grateful for small favors. Not that her spear had proven useful when first taken, she noted; still, it wasn't in her to just give up without trying. She cracked the shaft against the door, only to have a blast of electrical magic surge back and envelop her, crackling into her body as she writhed in pain. The pain finally stopped, though small arcs still jumped over her armor, Jaheira feeling small moans escape her mouth as she slowly regained feeling in her extremities. Pushing herself back to her feet, she stumbled once trying to regain her footing, but picked up her spear again for leverage and studied the room further, inhaling and exhaling slowly. Nothing... no weaknesses, no visible escape routes... for all intents and purposes, they were stuck. She glanced at the door again, weighing the chances of another frontal assault providing an escape... she quickly decided against it. Still, nothing felt wrong with her magics, and her companions could surely do with a little aid in returning to consciousness.

All of them still looked more than a little out of it; she winced as she remembered the pain that the psionic trap had inflicted upon them... no wonder, then. She paused briefly as her gaze fell over Veldrin's face- she found herself drawn to it for some explicable reason, something pulling her to study him for a moment. His features, now that he was unconscious, were not as…. angry as before. He actually appeared rather calm, almost peaceful, as though any cares he had were gone with the peace of blissful sleep. Some would even consider him… handsome, almost. Jaheira laughed, shaking the idea from her head, writing the thought off as a disgusting after-affect of the psionic trap. Still, everything about him was indeed a mystery, one that Jaheira had pieced many parts together of, but could not quite complete. She'd made it a point to watch and wait... hoping to discover his true purpose in the group... a few crucial bits still remained. She hadn't shared this evidence with any of the others, but she felt certain they would be on her side when she confronted him after the eggs were recovered. Whether that meant Veldrin's death or not was still unclear, but she would not let him betray them as she believed he intended to.

Just as she had anticipated, her magics were up to the task of reviving those she traveled with; a quick explanation and a few moments of rest later, and the party was more than a little anxious to try and escape their newfound prison. Aerie and Imoen tried dispelling magics, Veldrin added breaches and ward piercing spells of his own. Nothing was working- the power of the mind flayers was too strong, here in their own home. Minsc insisted on attempting a physical solution, despite Jaheira's warnings- needless to say, he did not try it more than once. Almost a full hour passed in silence, the six of them seated in a circle, every now and then someone voicing an idea or plan for escape. All proved to be failures, but just when they were beginning to wonder if they had been forgotten entirely, the sound of footsteps could be faintly heard from outside one of the two locked doors. Keldorn and Minsc both slammed themselves on either side of the door, Imoen up against the back of the room with an arrow in her bow and the string pulled back. Aerie and Veldrin were both flanking Imoen, while Jaheira stood straight in front, her spear leveled straight at the door.

The footsteps grew louder and louder until the door finally opened, revealing a large, greenish gray ogre, a giant iron club in one hand. Keldorn and Minsc both swung straight around with their weapons into view, the two blades moments away from hewing the ogre in two. As the axes and two-handed sword hit the place where the door would have been, they both bounced off with a blast of magic, sending them into the wall. The ogre sighed and shook his head, then said, "So, yous wakey wakeys, now, hmm? No worries, alls peoples try and escape once or twice. Anyway, now it time to fight!"

"You will let us out of here or I swear you will regret it." Jaheira growled, even though she knew it was an empty threat. "What have you done with us?"

"Questions, questions, always da new fighters got the same questions. You listen then, and I tell you what you need to know." the ogre said despondently. "First thing, I not the one who capture. You trespass on the home of the flayers, and you got caught. Now you pay for your stay. Understand? Next thing, you better fight well in the arena, because if you don't fight well, you die. If you don't fight at all, you die. Maybe you live long enough to get servant position. Better than fighting. Oh, last rule, never attack the flayers. You are in their home. They will kill you with their thoughts."

Jaheira remembered the blinding pain she had felt when the simple psionic trap had gone off- Veldrin had mentioned something about the Master Brain and its immense abilities. If it could truly kill them with a single thought... their chances of escape were suddenly cut down drastically. "So we are to fight for the amusement of the flayers? 'Mind flayers', correct?"

"I mean the masters that control the fights. You do as I say and they don't kill you." the ogre said simply. "You will face many opponents before you are servant like me. You will live if you fight well. I warn though: do not anger spectators. They extra strong in this place because of big brain. First fight begins now!"

Jaheira followed the ogre, the others close behind. They considered attacking, but if what the ogre said was true, they could be killed right away and the gambit was not worth the risk. Instead, they followed as they were told and eventually were led into a large arena. It was designed in a spherical shape, and long plates of different material were curved around different wall areas. Pedestals and gold tendrils extended from the walls, dangerous impalers if allowed as such. At the top was a clear panel, where they could see a platform behind it, five mind flayers standing behind it. Their blank stares were directed down towards the fighters, the tentacles whipping back and forth upon their alien faces.

The door behind them was slammed shut, and they had no more time to study their surroundings as the gate across the arena was opened, releasing a group of six Kua-Toa warriors, the fish creatures screeching and gibbering mindlessly as they charged. No words were exchanged as they fought back, Keldorn and Minsc both being bowled over with the insane charge of the Kua-Toan warriors, grappling with their opponents upon the ground. Jaheira had batted her attacker to the side using her spear, while Imoen's quick bow work had knocked one down, though he still tried to get to his feet, despite an arrow sticking out of the fish's stomach.

Veldrin spun in place as a fish warrior leapt at him, just dodging the tackle and coming around behind it to send a bolt of lightning into its back. The Kua-Toan jolted and writhed with the electrical barrage, and in a few seconds it lay still. Veldrin turned to see a monitor almost upon him, its size dwarfing him easily. The blade it carried sung and swept down, slicing deep into his chest, the drow elf barely backing up in time to avoid it cutting him open from shoulder to hip. As it was, he stumbled and fell to the ground, the whole front of his robe beginning to stain with blood. It stomped forward again, raising the reddened sword high to impale Veldrin upon it- an arrow from Imoen's bow struck it through the neck, he creature gurgling once before falling backwards, letting Veldrin slip away into unconsciousness, safe for the moment.

Aerie had no time for her sling or her magic, as the Kua-Toan she faced was inordinately fast, though smaller than the others. She whipped her mace out at the last second, blocking a swing that would have cleaved her in two. She continued backpedaling as the sword onslaught went on, trying to find an opening to strike. As Aerie fought to survive, Minsc glanced over and noted the trouble his witch was facing; he grunted and with a well aimed kick, shoved his enemy off him and into a protruding pedestal, impaling the creature. He came up in a roll and rushed over, watching as Aerie's defenses were slowly broken down. With a quick sweep, Aerie found herself on the ground, her mace in one hand but an eternity away from blocking in time as the sword point rushed towards her heart. Abruptly, inches from striking, the blade stopped moving, giving Aerie a moment to scramble away, pointing her mace warily at the Kua-Toa. Her caution was not required though, as Minsc's sword was buried in the fish's chest, and with a yank, the sword pulled free and left the Kua-Toa on the ground twitching.

Keldorn's opponent was another monitor, though it was no deterrent to the paladin, who darted in and out of the striking range of the large beast, continually drawing the Kua-Toa into attacking, though no opportunity to use the Hallowed Redeemer had come as of yet. Finally, Keldorn paused just long enough for the Kua-Toa to swing a powerful blow, one that Keldorn could not possibly dodge aside fast enough for. He did not, but instead let his legs collapse, falling beneath the swing. As he did, he swung the two handed sword with all his strength, cutting out the Kua-Toa's legs easily. The beast fell screeching, but was silenced by another swing of the mighty weapon. By this time, Jaheira had also dispatched her enemy, and the one Imoen had wounded had been hit twice more with arrows, finally killing the persistent creature.

The survivors looked around- Aerie's eyes widened as she saw Veldrin on the ground, his breathing shallow as blood began to slowly pool around his torso. She rushed down to his side, eyes closed as she chanted, letting the power of her magic begin to do its work and slowing the flow of blood to try and keep him alive- Aerie's hands suddenly felt heavy, her eyes hazy. She barely managed to look behind her to see the others falling to their knees as well before collapsing into unconsciousness herself, the devourers unleashing their psionics once more.

X X X X X X

"How is he doing? As much as it pains me to say it, we will need his aid if we are to escape this place alive." Jaheira admitted as she looked over the still unconscious drow, the rest of the party having awakened after being brought back to their cell. Apparently, the illithid did not yet trust them enough to have them walk back to their cells without causing an incident of some sort. Not an unwise precaution, truth be told. Veldrin was lying in the corner of the room, Aerie slowly standing up from him as she wiped her hands on the fringe of her robes, blood staining her delicate fingers. Jaheira had elected by agreement to save her own healing spells for any escape attempts, leaving Aerie to the task of keeping Veldrin alive.

"He's... I think he's going to be okay." the Avariel hesitated a moment before speaking. "It'll be a while before he'll be effective in battle, but he'll survive, at the least."

"And we're still left in the same predicament as before." Keldorn murmured, seated against the wall on the other side of the cell, his fingers clasped before him as he rested. "We must find a way to protect ourselves from this... 'Master Brain.' Until we can come up with something, our only option is to continue to play along."

An abrupt banging from the door opposite to Keldorn took them off guard- it ceased after a few moments, replaced by a rough, throaty laugh, followed by an all too familiar growl. "Perhaps, manlings, we may find a way to aid one another."

"I know those voices..." Imoen said with a growl, fingering her bow as the realization hit all of them. "What're you Githyanki doing down here?"

"You are not alone in this place, and for that you should be glad. Still, it is the worst of fates, trapped by the feared and despicable illithid. And to think we would suffer the same fate as you; you who should have died in our ambush on the island. We are all destined for the same fate, as playthings in the arena. A foul way to end a being's life, I think."

"You killed an entire island of innocent men and women." Jaheira spat, pounding once on the door. "If we are to meet in the arena, I would welcome the chance to return the favor."

"Perhaps we shall, and one of us will have to die. It is not a threat we are unfamiliar with. We came to this realm with the thought of battle, to reclaim a silver sword. But our attempts to track you through the Underdark left us vulnerable to the predations of the illithid. This is an abomination I will not allow. We harbor a special hatred for the illithid, and we will see them dead before we are done. Or we die ourselves."

"Cheery sort, aren'tcha." Imoen said sarcastically.

"We may fight, but perhaps there is a way to benefit both of us. Shall I continue, or will we speak with only blades for tongues?" the voice contained a hint of amusement, almost as though expecting a complete lack of cooperation.

The five exchanged glances... Keldorn straightened up, cocking his head to the side. "Go on."

"As your jailer has told you, the illithid are strong here in their house. They have power here to slay as they wish- escape is nearly impossible within the walls of the city. The power of the Master Brain is supreme throughout this place... but we of the Githyanki have power of our own, and I believe we may be able to disrupt the illithid and allow another to make an escape. When we are called to battle, we of the Githyanki will meditate within the ring, pushing back the minds of the illithid. You may then open the arena doors that we may all escape."

"Then that is our course. We will work together to escape." Keldorn said, faced with no other option. "This will not make up for the evil you've done, but if it must be so, you can count on us in this venture."

"Then ready yourself, and cease your worries about such petty rivalries." came the response as the door between them was shut. "The time of battle is at hand, and the jailer will come for us soon."

Without warning, the door blasted open from the opposite side of the room, and the party whirled in surprise, not expecting the prediction of the Githyanki to come to pass so quickly, especially with Veldrin still unconscious. This, however, was not like their past experience. It was not merely the ogre, but a contingent of umber hulks and illithid accompanying him. Jaheira narrowed her eyes, carefully bringing her spear closer to guard as she voiced the caution on everyone's mind. "What is happening? Are we to battle in the arena again so soon?"

"You should not have thought so loud." the ogre shook his head sadly as the umber hulks and illithid filed into the room. "Big Brain hears you plot. Knows you going to try and escape. You too powerful to be damaged... makes you into thralls instead. Sorries."

"What?!- What about the Githyanki!" Imoen shouted desperately as the umber hulks grabbed her by the arm, moving to restrain Minsc as well. "They were-"

"Gith is awful sour in the face, but also hide thoughts from masters. Can't read them." the ogre shrugged, glancing towards the door.

From behind the Githyanki cell, Imoen's blood boiled as she heard the hacking laughs of the Githyanki, sneering and disdain directed squarely towards them. "Vengeance! Vengeance for the defilers of the Silver Sword! May the illithid devour your brains and leave the blade you stole for us to take from their corpses!"

Veldrin's eyes fluttered open as he found himself being dragged by the umber hulks away with the rest of the party, hearing the last bits and pieces of what had just happened. His eyes narrowed, anger crossing his features before his eyes rolled back into his head again. "Githyanki..."

X X X X X X

A faint buzzing filled her ears as her senses slowly returned; not like the intrusion of the mind that the illithid's psionic power generated within her, more of a simple sound, like a cricket inside the house that was just elusive enough to avoid your search when trying to end the annoying little chirps. Imoen's eyes blinked once, slowly letting faint reddish light tint the world before her, all manner of alien machinery and construction above her. She was lying on a particularly cold table, and the sound appeared to be coming from a machine right behind her, far too close to her head for her taste. She slowly tried to sit up, finding herself strapped down by three restraints, one on her waist, one on her ankles, one on her neck. The sudden feeling of helplessness drove her to struggle- what she had not noticed before was the single illithid who had been engaged in some sort of study by the boiling vat of reddish liquid across the room.

It turned and chittered once in what might be construed as shock, whether that Imoen had awoken, or that it had not sensed her awakening earlier, he had been alerted now. Imoen noticed it as soon as he noticed her; she only had a split second to act, and she spat the words to the first and simplest spell she could manage, twisting her hand up from it's resting place to flash an open palm at the mind flayer, five magic missiles spitting out and exploding against the body of the illithid before it could react. They were meager attacks, just enough to drive the creature back in surprise and annoyance- but he had been standing too close to the steaming vat when the attack came, and the force of his backpedal was enough to send him tipping over into the vat, a sizzling sound like that of frying oil...or worse, burning flesh, echoing through the room as the thrashings and waving of gangly limbs ceased, the illithid meeting its final fate.

Imoen's head was craned up high enough to watch the mind flayer die, then dropped down to the table again in relief as she sighed loudly, trying to gather her bearings, some sort of feel for where she was and mount an escape plan of some kind. From what she could see by twisting her head back and forth, there were other tables... some with blood stains spattered all over them. She swallowed hard, hoping against hope that none of those belonged to her friends- no. She wouldn't think about that... escape first, one step at a time.

She tried feeling down towards her thigh, hoping to catch the familiar feel of the short sword she carried there... nothing. The hard way then. Imoen inhaled, then exhaled, knowing that what she was about to do would probably hurt some... she made the incantations, then let her fingers fan out wide, sucking in air with the pain as a Burning Hands spell ignited. She tried to burn through the straps holding her down at waist level, her hand too close to her side for the flames not to lick the edges of her skin. She struggled and strained against the rapidly decaying bonds, finally lurching her hand away from her side as she was given some measure of freedom- she let her body go limp for a moment, closing her eyes with the effort she had exerted, her side burnt and blistering from the intense heat her spell had generated.

Breathe in... breathe out. That's what she told herself as she finally persuaded herself to start moving, her now free hands moving to unstrap her neck, then her feet, finally pushing herself off the table. She looked around, relieved to find her equipment and pack stashed right beside her 'bed'- for being so smart, the illithid could be extremely dumb sometimes. She slung her quiver on again and sheathed her sword, then secured her pack and readied her bow so she could at least be ready to fight if the opportunity, or rather, 'when' the opportunity arose. But her friends came first- she walked with trepidation over to one of the bloodstained bodies that lay covered on similar tables around the machine in the middle of the room- she pulled the sheet back and stumbled back, gagging as she put one hand to her mouth, trying desperately not to vomit.

There lay a decrepit and shriveled man, covered by rags and old clothing that had not been moved in far too long. Worse still, the man... as bad as he looked, it was what had been done to him that was unspeakable. The top of his head was missing, leaving his brain exposed and attached by magic and machine to the apparatus behind him, the gray matter pulsing as energy continued to play over the alien technology. Imoen tried to gather her composure, tried to steady herself-

_"Who... who is there?!"_

She shrieked aloud as the voice echoed through the room, and even as she whirled, trying to find a source anywhere other than what she knew had said it, she finally turned back to the lifeless body and stared- the eyes were gray and glassy, but staring directly at her. _"Who is there!"_

"It's okay..." she managed, whispering. "I'm not one of them. The illithid... I'm a prisoner too, trying to escape from here."

_"Escape?" _the haunting voice cracked, and the brain she could see pulsed once._"There... there is no escape from here. Only death... I- I was an adventurer once. I came here... thought I was prepared. Cast spells on my brain to prevent the illithid from reading me, controlling me..."_

_"I wish now that I had not..."_the body arched it's back, heaving with pain as Imoen took a step back, not sure if she should be trying to still the.. corpse? Person?_"The illithid wanted to know how I could resist them... they have tried to find out... studied me... they will study you too."_

It all came to her in a flash... strapped down like this wretched man... the illithid preparing some kind of alien technology for her... if she hadn't awakened in time- Imoen shuddered, only briefly pausing to wonder why she had been brought here, and not the others. From the man before her, it would be that the illithid could not read her, control her as they did the others. Perhaps... perhaps because she was a Bhaalspawn?

Another tortured groan escaped the already dead man lying on the table. _"Please... if you are not of the illithid, then end my suffering. Let me die."_

The familiar voice of Jaheira came to mind... _"Death is not always a thing to be feared, child." the druid said, placing one hand on Imoen's shoulder as the four of them stood together amidst the experiments and dungeons of Irenicus. "Be strong, Imoen."_

She looked down at the gaping mouth and gray eyes before her... she walked over to the machine, and with electricity crackling through her hands, proceeded to dismantle the innards of the device, whether by magic or by blade. In moments the humming of energy ceased, and those that should have died so long ago were finally allowed to pass beyond. Still, there was no time to grieve or mourn for innocents lost. Not for her- Imoen took one final look around the room, hoping to spy anything of use- there was one more body strapped to a table on the far end of the room, almost as though it was just being prepared for when a space was opened at the operating table... her space. She approached with curiosity- her eyes widened as she saw who lay there, still unconscious.

"Veldrin..." she whispered, moving to his side slowly. His presence was... well, it was welcome, though not so much as Minsc or Jaheira or Aerie's would have been. But it would be a foolish mistake to let an ally go unaided, especially in a place like this. She'd need all the help she could get to find the others, kill the Master Brain and escape the city...hell, she needed Elminster and Drizzt Do'Urden to show up right now as well to make the odds anything less than suicidal.

His chest was bare, the robes torn away from the last time Aerie had attempted to heal the wounds he had taken; even though the wound had been healed to the best of her ability, the scar covering his chest looked horribly tender and he would be hard pressed to stay mobile in any sort of fight. Imoen groped inside her pack for a moment, smiling in relief as she felt the familiar touch of a healing potion. She uncorked the healing fluid and tilted his head back a bit, letting it flow past his lips and down his throat- his wound glowed for a moment and darkened into more new flesh and less scar tissue- perhaps he would be of help after all.

Imoen shrugged with acceptance as she prepared to free the still half-conscious drow, moving to loosen his straps. It was a good thing for her that he was here too, whether she preferred it or not- she paused a second, her eyes narrowing. He was here. Which meant he was somehow resisting the illithid's attempts at controlling him, making him into a thrall. There were spells that could do this... but she didn't believe in coincidence. Not anymore. It was just possible enough... just likely enough... another Bhaalspawn, like her?

She stopped her efforts to free him, examining him instead. Granted, she doubted there would be any defining birthmark or obvious tell-tale sign that their drow guide was a Bhaalspawn... but the thought intrigued her, made her cautious. She put one hand down on his face, running a finger across his defined cheekbones, still unsure of what she was looking for- she stopped, shaking her head. She had just felt the upraised skin of another scar, right across his cheek. But... but there was no scar there. Touching it once again, she confirmed what she had just felt, then stared down at his face, trying so hard to figure out what was missing, just what was going on-

Apparently the touch had awoken him further out of his slumber, or the healing potion had done more good than she had thought. He stirred briefly, just enough for his eyes to flutter open, vision wavy as he made out the form of the girl before him, the white hair with slight strands of pink inside. "I... Im?"

Imoen's heart caught in her throat at the small yet oh-so-significant word spoken by the drow lying before her. Visions passed through her mind- _Greywulf on his knees in the cavern, just before he was shut in forever, locked away in torment for the sacrifice he had made- long cuts on his arms, chest- a fresh cut running across his cheek where a rock had collided with him, falling from the ceiling of the cavern_- he called her 'Im'... nobody called her that. No one but him.

A sob escaped her throat as she yanked desperately at the straps, only barely taking the time to undo the latching mechanisms, in a veritable frenzy as she freed him from his captivity. "Wake up! Wake up, come on, you! Wake up!!'

His mind finally came into some sort of sync with his body- all the pain, all the exhaustion he had faced in the last hours and days rushed back, but he fought through it and grabbed her hand to pull into a seated position. She stood up and stepped away from him as soon as he was off his back, head in one hand as he tried to push away the pain in his mind. "Imoen... a surprise to see you here, though not unwelcome. I presume we're not dead?"

He waited, but she did not answer. Veldrin slowly looked up, brow knit in confusion as he saw her staring at him, eyes red and rimmed with tears as she trembled. He did not move or let any concern show on his face, only a look of questioning. "Something wrong, Imoen? I've just woken up if you hadn't noticed, so if there's something you need to tell me about where we are-"

"Stop it!" she yelled, clenching her fists tightly as she let the tears flow down her face, a flood of emotions filling her from head to toe. "Just stop it! Why are you doing this... why didn't you tell us?! Why didn't you tell me?!!"

A chill ran up and down his spine as he saw just what she might be referring to... he pushed himself off the cold table, raising one hand to Imoen to calm her. "Imoen... I don't know what you're talking about. You're hysterical, just calm down before the illithid hear you-"

"No! I will not be calm, and I don't give a damn if every mind flayer in this city hears me!" she screamed, taking a step towards him, Veldrin growing more and more concerned as she locked eyes with him. "You... you lied to me! You lied to us!! Don't you know how much it hurt... how much I cried to have you taken like that, and for you to just come in and pretend to be this... this, whatever you think you are, without ever telling us?! Lying to our faces-why?!"

"Imoen, I don't-"

"Greywulf!! You're Greywulf, now admit it, damn you!!" she growled, her franticness turning to anger as she poked him in the chest, right in the newly healed flesh of his chest. He recoiled in pain- even more pain as his mind exploded with intense warnings, warnings of failure and betrayal, breaking of promises.

He bent over slightly, trying to clear his mind, "I... I understand you miss your brother, but I assure you I am not him-"

"Liar!" she accused, visibly restraining herself from lashing out to strike him. "Why are you doing this to me, you son of a-"

The pain in his mind grew worse... he nearly cried out with the effort- the door behind Imoen opened up, and two illithid slid inside, one raising an arm in shock at the two escaped prisoners, the other carrying two purple circlets composed of wire and magic. Veldrin barely had time to cry a warning before Imoen spun, pulling the string on her bow back in fury at everything around her- her anger so potent, so pure. An arrow struck the one holding the circlets before he could react, jutting out of its forehead as it collapsed to the ground. Had Veldrin been at full strength, he might've been able to cast a spell to destroy or interfere with the power of the other mind flayer before he could react, but as it was he barely got half his first incantation out before Imoen was on the ground, dazed and stunned by the psionic blast she'd received.

Veldrin aborted his spell, knowing it would never reach completion. Instead, he leapt towards the mind flayer, taking it in a tackle that sent them rolling over one another on the ground, Veldrin moving with purpose as they struggled back and forth, rolling over the corpse of the other mind flayer. A sharp surge of pain ran through his chest, sapping his strength- even the physically weak mind flayer knew when to take advantage of a weakness and pushed hard on the scarred chest of the drow, causing Veldrin to abandon the lock he had on the illithid in pain. The mind flayer struggled to his feet, preparing to do the same thing to Veldrin he had done to Imoen-

Veldrin coughed out a single command. "Stop."

The illithid froze, lowering its arms as it relaxed, obeying completely. Its black eyes peered upwards, and could just spy the purple circlet Veldrin had slipped onto the illithid in their tussle over the ground. Veldrin let himself fall back to the ground in exhaustion, taking solace in the fact his gambit had worked. For all intents and purposes, they were safe for another few minutes, and he had a mind flayer under his control. For now... from what little he knew about the circlets, they weren't truly meant for the illithid. It could wear off at any time, but having one of their kind to help navigate the city and question couldn't hurt.

He finally managed to get back to his feet...another twinge of pain ran through his mind, the power of the oath he had sworn compelling him. He turned and looked upon Imoen's frozen body, lying still with such anger and fury upon her face. It wasn't just anger at the illithid, or the betrayal by the Githyanki. It was his betrayal. Her accusing words, her anguished cries, they all haunted his thoughts. She'd never forgive him for what he's done to her. To all of them. Keeping it from them... she was never supposed to find out like this. He would have told her in time, after everything was done... but now, here... she'd hate him. And the thought of her hating him... it was like a hole in his heart, a wound that would never stop hurting. Something had to be done... something terrible.

He walked over to her, bending down and running a hand over her cheek, and for a moment... the briefest of moments... Veldrin was gone. It was Greywulf who held his sister and embraced her tightly, one tear squeezing out of his eye. And just like that, he stood and walked back to the enslaved illithid. "Slave... you can manipulate minds, correct?"

_Yes._

"What about memories? Can you... take them? Erase them?" Veldrin asked, inhaling deeply, trying to ignore the pain that his geas brought him and the pain of what he was about to do to one whom he loved so much.

_Yes._

Veldrin closed his eyes and gestured towards Imoen with one hand, not turning to face the girl as he commanded the mind flayer. The illithid did not move, apparently waiting for his verbal command before moving- Veldirn gritted his teeth and forced the words out. "Do it then. Erase everything starting with when she woke up in this room."

_Yes, master._

The mind flayer moved out of his sight and shuffled over towards Imoen's frozen body- Veldrin did not turn to look until the pain in his mind was gone, the conditions of his geas met once again... and his dark deeds fulfilled. He only prayed Imoen would forgive him for this... someday.


	71. Part 3: City of the Illithid

The first thing she saw upon reopening her eyes was pink. Well, a pinkish red, anyway. Imoen slowly raised one hand to her face, brushing the strands of hair that covered her face away so she could see, trying to clear her thoughts and have some kind of clear-headedness- a firm hand grasped hers, the girl automatically taking it and using it as leverage to pull herself up, stumbling once as she got her footing. The unknown figure beside Imoen steadied her, her vision finally clearing enough for her to get a blurred look at the man- drow?- beside her.

"I was wondering when you'd come out of it." he remarked evenly, letting go of her as soon as he was satisfied that she could stand on her own. "We don't exactly have a great deal of time to spare."

"Veldrin..." Imoen rubbed her head, fixing a scowl on her face as she looked at the drow, his arms folded as he stood before her, giving her a once over as though to assure himself she was all right. "You'll forgive me if I was hoping for someone... well, any of the others."

He arched an eyebrow, nodding in acquiescence. "Understood. Perhaps his company will suit you better?"

Imoen frowned in confusion, turning to see where he was gesturing- she nearly jumped as she spotted the illithid standing at the other end of the room, the tentacles on its face twitching every now and then as it stood at guard. The girl looked around for her gear, grabbing it from the ground and hurriedly going for an arrow- Veldrin put an arm on hers, stopping her. "It should be fine... I captured him with one of their circlets... he'll make a fine guide, one which will come in handy if we're to find the others and escape this place."

"So the others aren't here, then?" Imoen asked, slowly lowering her bow as she knelt to equip the rest of her gear, though she did keep a close eye on the mind flayer, despite Veldrin's assurances.

"No... I woke up before our captors intended and was able to overpower the guard here and free you and me. This one came with these collars, undoubtedly to enslave our minds." Veldrin gestured towards the other mind flayer, lying dead on the floor. "Imoen... what do you remember?"

The thief-mage stopped for a second, looking up at Veldrin with a frown. The breath in his throat caught for a moment, and he could have sworn that there was a flash of recognition in her eyes- she shrugged and shook her head. "You mean before waking up in here with you standing over me? Not much... just our fights in the Arena and getting snuck up on at the entrance of the city. Why... should I remember something else?"

He forced a smile, and then shook his head, waving her off as he scoured the rest of the room. "No... of course not. Get ready to move as soon as you can... I've instructed the illithid we have here to shield our thoughts from the Master Brain as much as he can- he's not strong enough to hide us from a concerted search effort, but the whole city shouldn't be on alert."

"Small favors, right?" Imoen shrugged as she slung her pack on, gripping her bow tightly. "Umm... quick question. How long will that circlet thing keep our friend over there on our side and not... well, trying to eat our brains?"

Veldrin exhaled loudly, then glanced at the illithid. "I don't know. Let's not find out, hmm?"

He slipped the door open and pushed through, the illithid behind him, Imoen holding up the rear. The tunnels were dark and twisted, alien and menacing. The door at the end of the hall seemed almost alive, swirling as their brains tried to adjust to the massive psionic energies in the city. Veldrin gestured towards the captive illithid, moving aside as it shuffled up towards the door, putting one gray clawed hand upon the door- it slid open to reveal... nothing.

Imoen breathed a sigh of relief, walking into the room alongside Veldrin- before they could do a thing, a portion of the room seemed to shimmer, revealing a group of three mind flayers and three umber hulks. There was no time to curse at their lapse in caution or their failure to ask their captive for guidance or aid- the battle was on and there was nothing left to do. The umber hulks screamed as they launched themselves forward, their enormous bulk driving both of them back. As Imoen struggled to maneuver so that she could get a clear shot at on of the burrowers, a mind flayer chattered in its alien tongue and sent a blast of power, heading for the girl.

At the last second, Veldrin slid into the path between them, his hands raised and shimmering with golden light. Veldrin struggled with the incoming force, his powers unprepared for the psionic nature of the attack, expecting the arcane or the divine- it punctured the shield he was holding, sending him flying across the room, bouncing off the wall. One of the umber hulks broke off its attack on Imoen, charging at the downed elf, moving to crush him where he lay. Imoen drew her arm back and let the arrow she had prepared fly; it was a hasty attack and the arrow struck the umber hulk in its massive shoulder, disrupting the loping stride and sending it tumbling towards Veldrin rather than running. Veldrin opened his eyes, trying to regain his wits- he saw the massive body of an umber hulk about to crush him against the wall; the drow threw himself out of the way, a split second before the beast would have destroyed him. It howled and grunted as it looked up at the little man who had escaped it- the umber hulk pulled itself towards Veldrin with insane ferocity, covering the distance between them in seconds. He pushed both hands out towards the approaching monster, his hands flaring with magic- it stopped its approach, slumping to the ground as the magic fires Veldrin had conjured continued to burn and lick away the remnants of its head.

Veldrin sighed in relief, watching the beast flicker and die- the sound of another umber hulk's chittering behind him got his attention. He slowly cocked his head up, inwardly cursing as he saw the beast standing right above him, one hand upraised to crush his skull. Its hand came down, Veldrin squeezing his eyes closed in anticipation of the deathblow... the sound of an arrow piercing flesh and bone echoed around him, and Veldrin opened his eyes in relief, watching as the umber hulk before him slumped to the ground, an arrow lodged in its head. Imoen stood across the room, hurriedly pulling another arrow from her quiver as she tried desperately to avoid the last umber hulk, still scrambling about the room, trying to destroy the nimble mage. Still, no matter how fast she ran, the illithid's minds were quicker. A blast of psionic magic froze her to the spot, two of the illithid moving to intercept Veldrin while the third slid towards Imoen, tentacles swirling in anticipation.

Veldrin's heart thudded as he looked over the enemy- two illithid and one umber hulk coming at him at once, one illithid moving to kill Imoen in the next few seconds. He had less than ten seconds to get past his enemies and save Imoen- he made his decision and moved. Veldrin spat an incantation and unleashed a Cone of Cold, the umber hulk moving straight into the center of the blast. Four seconds passed. The beast was frozen solid, Veldrin clenching his fists and wrapping his cloak around him as he braced himself- he charged past the umber hulk on the opposite side of the mind flayers, shoving the umber hulk as he ran. It tottered, scattering the mind flayers before they could stop him with their psionics. Three more seconds passed. The illithid was already kneeling over Imoen, tentacles beginning to wrap around her face- he leapt to cover the rest of the distance and tackled the mind flayer, pulling it off Imoen and grappling with it on the ground.

Its tentacles whipped and it screeched as the mind flayer began striking at him, Veldrin trying to hold it at arm's length as it snapped at him. He heard footsteps approaching behind him- he craned his head to see the other two mind flayers approaching, their own powers forming to strike at him. The psionic blasts swarmed down on him, sizzling energy that he was sure would prove more lethal than that which had struck Imoen- he spun desperately, pulling the illithid he was fighting into the path of the attacks. The mind of the illithid was more advanced than his, and it could withstand the blast of one mind flayer. Two, however proved to be more than it could handle. It cried out- and its head exploded.

Veldrin threw the body down, adrenaline pumping as he began to consider the possibility they might just survive this, if he could only get to his last two opponents before they disabled him like they had Imoen- he chanted as quickly as he could, feeling the magic inside build and form itself into the fireball in his hand- he lobbed it forward a second before he felt his mind collapse under the power of the illithid. His limbs became stone and he collapsed, unable to move as he watched the fire immolate one of the remaining mind flayers- the other walked from the flames, its hand raised as it psionically pushed the fire away. The lone illithid's eyes narrowed, and Veldrin prepared himself for the oblivion of darkness that would await him-

It stopped, stiffening as Veldrin watched a blade slice into its chest, cutting down and out before it fell to the ground. Imoen stood behind it, clutching her head with one hand, holding the short sword she carried with the other. She kicked the body of the mind flayer before stumbling over to Veldrin, kneeling beside his frozen body with a sigh of what was either annoyance, relief, or perhaps both. "Y'know... forget what I said earlier. I'm glad you're here. But next time... we let the mind flayer go first."

X X X X X X

"I have it, brother!" the voice of Bodhi echoed down the halls of the temple. Irenicus turned to see his sister walking to him with a pleased look. His face broke into a grin as she showed him what she had found.

"Yes… and the next part of our plan can go into motion. Take it- you know what to do." Irenicus said, Bodhi putting the lantern-like object into the folds of her robe. She then disappeared in a puff of mist, floating out of a crack in the temple roof, one of many that had formed since they had arrived. Irenicus turned away again to see more drow soldiers coming behind him, one of them asking a question in their tongue.

"It is done." he replied easily. "Continue the destruction you have wrought. Assure that this place will never be used to worship the weak deity it has been devoted to."

The drow grinned at that statement, and led the rest of his warriors to different words, the sounds of blades and magic destroying and wreaking carnage echoing through the halls of the temple. He briefly considered joining them, a blue fireball igniting in one hand, but he hesitated. He really should get going. No sense delaying the final stage of his plan, not when he was this close. He permitted himself a quick smile as he closed his palm, extinguishing the magic power, then began to seek out the exit, knowing that the defenses of the elves would be no threat to his magic.

As he found the door he sought, he noticed a line of statues of stone erected beside a wall. He turned away immediately, dismissing them, but then turned back, looking closely at the face of one. His eyes widened ever so slightly, and he cautiously stepped over to it, slow and almost unwillingly yet drawn to this particular one above the others. He stood face to face with the statue for a few seconds, his face twisting in different ways, as though different emotions were trying to escape his grotesque body. For the briefest of moments, a look of longing, lingering regret crossed his eyes, if only for the smallest hair of a second. However, it was irrelevant.

It passed within the same moment of time, and his eyes narrowed, this time in rage. He growled with a hatred deep inside the depths of his person, the blue fireball blazing in his palm once again as he threw it at the statue, pieces of it flying everywhere as it shattered. He whirled about and exited, more sounds of magic igniting as he battled the few elves left outside. However, in the hallway, one piece of the broken statue lay off to the side relatively unscathed, only a long scorch mark running down the side of it. It was the head and face. The face had been perfect, but was now marred by the burn mark upon it, the only flaw in the smooth, serene face. The face reflected peace and beauty, light of grace and power. The face was one of gentleness, love, and compassion. It was the face of Jon Irenicus, as he had once been.

X X X X X X

The two figures were leaned up in one of the numerous halls stretching through the illithid city, their chests heaving with exertion from the fights, the running, and everything in between. Even with the forewarnings of their illithid thrall, the number of times they were forced to fight their way through numerous groups of illithid or umber hulks was proving too much for them- they had fled the last several encounters, just trying to keep moving and avoid the patrols that were now undoubtedly searching for them.

"We have to get a break soon." Imoen gulped between breaths. "I don't know how much longer we can keep this up..."

Veldrin glared at the captive mind flayer for a moment, then turned to Imoen. "It says that your friends are still far away- I do not think we will be able to reach them. Not as we are."

"Then what can we do?" Imoen countered, pushing herself off the wall, taking a quick look behind the others to ensure there was no threat, no danger lurking up on them with their backs turned. "Do you think we can destroy the Elder Brain without them?"

He shook his head and slammed a clenched fist into the wall behind him. "It would be suicide. We must have more aid- the only way to get it is by freeing the others. We must keep moving."

Imoen suppressed a moan as she pushed herself off the wall, getting her weapons ready to storm the next room if need be- a thought entered her head, the girl stopping, turning to Veldrin as her eyes flashed in excitement. "I think there might be another option..."

"What are you talking about?" Veldrin asked with a frown.

"The Githyanki are trapped here too, right?" Imoen arched one eyebrow, raising a hand as though weighing the idea. "Granted, they did betray us, but there's still a chance we might be able to use them, at least long enough to find the others."

"You make it sound so simple." Veldrin growled, his ire raised at the thought of the Gith soldiers. "Perhaps you forgot their plan to aid us escape... which was promptly abandoned in favor of letting us rot in this place. What makes you think they'll do anything different should we help them now?"

"Do we have a choice in the matter?" she shot back. "Ask your pal over there how far it would be to get back to the jail cells compared to getting to the others."

He glared at her for a moment, and she wasn't sure if he would actually acquiesce to her request, but after a second of nonverbal communication between the mind flayer and the drow, he crossed his arms in disapproval and stated, "Only a few more corridors down to the south. We could make it there within the hour depending on the opposition."

"Then it's settled. I'm going... and you can come if you like." Imoen shot at Veldrin, darting past him in the direction they had spoken of. "Well? Ya gonna sit there or help me get us out of here?"

He cursed under his breath and took off after her, the mind flayer following in his wake. Imoen rushed up to the nearest door, reaching out to open it- The sound of something crashing against the doors took Imoen by surprise. She recoiled from the door, slinging her bow behind her and drawing her sword as she braced herself, Veldrin right behind her with spells on his lips- she flung the door open, revealing a sight of carnage and bloody death. Illithid, umber hulks, and thralls lay dead in the room, hewed and torn apart. In the midst of the battle stood three armored, skeletal figures, the Githyanki freed and armed. Imoen exhaled in both caution and relief, lowering her blade a bit, though she was by no means relaxed. She took a step inside along with Veldrin, the Githyanki turning to face them, a needle toothed grin on their faces as their sunken eyes tracked them.

"Ehheehh... the defilers of the Sword make themselves known! And yet there are but two... have the rest of you met your well-deserved end in this place?" the one at lead sneered, bringing his jagged sword tighter to bear.

"You should be so lucky." Veldrin spat, his red eyes flashing as he looked upon the alien species. "Though I note there are but three of you here... they were four in the cell, if I'm not mistaken."

One of the Githyanki behind their leader took a step forward, his armored boot clacking on the purple stone floor as it hissed, raising his sword higher. Their leader approached and leaned down, his face inches from Veldrin's. "Khlasath was his clan-mate. You will show respect, drowling."

"Indeed." Veldrin fought back a smirk, though the edge to his voice did not disappear. "Perhaps you should do the same, if we are to escape this place. What is it to be? Shall we fight now, or later?"

The jaws of their leader clicked up and down for a bit, the gray skinned humanoid considering his words- he sheathed his sword taking a step back. "Later, I think. I am called Na'a'rai, captain of the Sword Stalkers. We of the Githyanki are strong and overpowered those who guarded our cell, but we have lost one already, and there are many more in the quest to slay the Elder Brain."

"You're going to kill it?" Imoen asked. "Why? Wouldn't it be easier to just get out?"

"The Elder Brain has complete control of this city." Na'a'rai spat, raising a bony arm to point at the doors and walls. "It directs your path and closes the doors it desires. You could get nowhere in this city without its consent... or as you have demonstrated, the allegiance of one of their own."

"Yes, well, how then did you plan on making good your assassination attempt?" Veldrin asked, shooting them one final glare before stepping back to Imoen, bending down to take a quarterstaff that one of the thralls had possessed.

"Do not forget to whom you speak." their captain craned his head around, bones popping as he straightened up. "Our power is second to that of the Illithid, but we have the means and will to escape, if not the numbers. Our alliance might enable us to escape... some of us, at least."

"Unless you decide to hand us over to the illithid for Helm-knows why in the middle of battle." Imoen tossed out, pointing at them lightly. "Can we get some kind of guarantee that won't happen again?"

"We make no such bargains." Na'a'rai said in a hacking voice. "You defiled the Sword of Silver. The punishment is death, no matter your allegiances or situation. We are simply... delaying the sentencing."

The drow shot Imoen an I-told-you-so look, but exhaled anyway and stepped up to face the three warriors. "Fine. Make your threats. Our first goal should still be to find our companions; the illithid are holding them someplace to the west of here... once we find them we can mount an assault on the Elder Brain and escape this city. Sound good?"

"It is... acceptable." he grunted, motioning for his warriors to move ahead as Imoen and her captive illithid took point, the warriors right behind. Veldrin moved to follow, but he was suddenly grabbed by Na'a'rai, the Githyanki leaning in, steam from his breath settling on his face as it bared all the teeth behind its jaws. "You... you are not all you seem. I see your face."

Veldrin grabbed the front of the Githyanki's neck, holding tight as well, his tone dropping to a low threat. "And well you should, murderer. I was there... I saw what you did to Brynnlaw. I saw how you glassed the whole damn island. And believe me when I say that as soon as we're out of this place, I will kill you."

Veldrin released his grip, pushing him back as Na'a'rai released as well. The Githyanki laughed, unsheathing his sword as he moved past Veldrin, following the others. "As you will. One of us will die, then. Perhaps you will kill me... perhaps not."

Veldrin listened... he narrowed his eyes, pushing his way up to the middle of the group with Imoen, looking down at her with a bit of concern. "Are you all right? You look... pained."

"Nothing." Imoen said quietly, though the sadness in her eyes betrayed her. "It's just... well, it's kinda funny. If they're still looking for the silver sword blade, they won't find it. Greywulf... my brother... he had it with him when he- just... never mind. Let's keep moving."

Veldrin watched her step ahead of him, his face never moving from its calm- that calm belying the guilt that ate at him inside.

X X X X X X

"Back, despicable wretches! The Githyanki are here, and vengeance is ours!" Na'a'rai screeched as his blade swung wide, cutting deep into the two umber hulks that were charging him. They were too close to dodge or resist; the gleaming blade cut into both of them, large gashes spilling blood over the floor. The other two Githyanki were on the front lines, slashing and stabbing the horde of umber hulks and thralls that were swarming them- they had been fighting and moving through nearly half the city, and had finally located the last door between them and their companions.

Still, another ambush had taken them by surprise- umber hulks, illithid and thralls guarded the door to their friends, charging as soon as they entered the room. Imoen and Veldrin had both reacted quickly, sending a pair of fireballs into the crowds of guards, the explosions of flame taking two mind flayers and one umber hulk. Two illithid unleashed their psionics- both struck one of the Githyanki on the front lines, the alien howling as it tried to fight off the tendrils of magic trying to seep into his head. A sword wielding thrall took the opportunity to charge, thrusting his blade into the belly of the Githyanki, the humanoid screaming as it fell to the ground, black and red blood pooling beneath it.

The other Gith soldier screamed a curse, leaping from his own battle to swing the mammoth, two handed blade he carried- the thrall's head rolled across the floor, just as another umber hulk leapt on the Githyanki. Imoen closed her eyes and uttered a set of incantations she had been studying, hoping to wait until she was better versed in the magic before attempting to cast it- her eyes flashed green and she pointed at the umber hulk, just about to rip out the throat of the Githyanki beneath it- a Finger of Death left her hand, striking the creature and extinguishing it's life force. She exhaled as Veldrin glanced at her in concern- he covered it quickly and shouted a cry of alarm, Imoen ducking as an arrow from another thrall passed over her head.

Na'a'rai cut down the thrall in his way, finally opening a path to the remaining illithid, still weaving their psionics- a blast struck him, jolting his head once, but he merely lowered his shoulder and charged, knocking two of the mind flayers to the ground. He flipped the grip on his sword and thrust downwards once, twice- another blast of psionic magic hit him from behind, sending him to his knees. An Ulitharid stood behind him, one of the noble classes of the illithid, and the last of the defenders. It knelt down, picking the Githyanki up as its six tentacles began slowly wrapping themselves around his head, preparing to extract his brain-

It turned and whipped another hand out, this one grabbing the other Githyanki as it charged, holding it at bay as it turned it's attention back toward Na'a'rai. Veldrin hurriedly cast a spell- an arrow of flame struck the Ulitharid's arm, dropping the one it held to the side. The Ulitharid hissed as its tentacles writhed and swarmed, exposing the maw of saw like teeth hidden underneath. The Githyanki raised his sword and plunged it deep into the chest of the beast, hissing in pleasure as it claimed its kill- the Ulitharid collapsed upon the Githyanki, all tentacles wrapping around his head before he could resist. A horrid sucking sound echoed through the chamber, and even as Veldrin slowly and cautiously stepped over, pulling the corpse of the Ulitharid off, it was clear that the Githyanki beneath was gone.

Imoen shuddered once as she stepped past the two dead creatures, helping Na'a'rai to his feet. It growled once as it clutched its helmeted head, pushing her arm away as he straightened up. "Let go of me, human. The illithid will not quench the fire of the Sword Stalkers so easily."

"I think you're the only one left, Na'a'rai." Imoen said with a wince, the Githyanki captain surveying the room, looking upon the body of his dead comrade with a grimace. "We might be in trouble."

"The others are right here." Veldrin pointed out, striding to the door as he gestured for the mind flayer to come over. "We're near the Elder Brain too, yes?"

_Yes. The Elder Brain... it resides behind... b-behind the corridor where your companions are located._

"Right here?" Veldrin asked in surprise. "Why would they be here?"

_To... to... I will not- I... I will not- _The illithid began to twitch, the tentacles on its face writhing wildly.

"What's happening?" Imoen asked in concern, raising her bow while the Githyanki hissed, bringing blade to bear.

_The closer we get… to the Elder… Brain… circlet… less effect… Die._

The circlet on its head crumbled and disintegrated; it lashed out with a psionic blast, hurling Na'a'rai into the door behind him. He tried to raise himself off his face, but stumbled and lapsed back into unconsciousness. The illithid raised another hand; Veldrin felt a blinding pain sear through his mind, like the blood vessels in his brain were ready to burst. Imoen loosed the arrow it struck through the mind flayer's throat. It gagged once, making a gurgling noise- blood began drizzling from underneath the creature's tentacles, and it collapsed to the ground.

She lowered her bow, moving to aid Veldrin, the drow wavy on his feet as he tried to steady himself. "We need... need an illithid to open the door." he muttered, almost dropping again as Imoen looked amongst the bodies, looking for one with a hint of life left in them-

"I... I can open the doors." Na'a'rai whispered, slowly getting to his knees- his eyes widened and he began shaking as he exerted all the remaining psionic energies he could muster- he screamed a cry and slumped to the ground, his mind completely obliterated by the power of the Elder Brain's defenses. And yet... the door slid away from its position, allowing them entrance. Veldrin looked at Imoen- she nodded and the two of them moved to the corridor, their breath catching as they saw what lay at the end of the path. A large archway, providing a path to what was most certainly the Elder Brain, lying beyond. There was only one more thing that blocked their passage. Rather four things. People.

_"You will not pass here, fleshlings." _the one who spoke was most definitely and certainly Minsc, though the voice was alien- the light behind his eyes red and glowing. He stood with Frostreaver and Stonefire in his hands, fury in his face. Beside him stood Aerie, the small elf glowing with rage, magic in her hands. Jaheira and Keldorn were there as well, each one with the light of the illithid in their eyes, controlling their every move, their every thought...

"Jaheira, Minsc... you're stronger than this." Imoen pleaded quietly, raising her hands in as non-threatening a way as she could manage. "Don't do this-"

"It's no use, Imoen." Veldrin said, his face tight as he clutched his quarterstaff tightly. "Get past them. Kill the Elder Brain; I'll handle them."

Imoen whirled to face him, her eyes flashing a warning. "If you hurt them-"

"I won't." Veldrin said through gritted teeth, staring into the eyes of four men and women who would stop at nothing to kill them... and whom he would do anything to protect. "Trust me... now go!"

Minsc shouted a battle cry, and the fight was on. Stonefire came down, deflected easily by the quarterstaff Veldrin held. It parried the blow, then swung around to strike Minsc in the side of the armor plating he wore. Even as Imoen tried to dodge past the massive ranger, Aerie suddenly flew into view, her voice ringing as she conjured magics with her arcane and divine powers. Magic Missiles blasted the front of Imoen, her skin burnt and blistered with each explosion of magic. Imoen was smoking as she landed on one knee, glaring up with effort at the elf cleric. She was beginning to cast again- Imoen winced, hating what she was about to do. She leapt forward and grabbed Aerie by the shoulders, pulling her down into a fierce knee strike upwards. Aerie's stomach connected solidly with the knee, and there was not a single breath of air left in Aerie's lungs as she doubled over, unable to breathe-much less speak and cast spells- for the next few minutes.

Veldrin dodged underneath another swing by Minsc, diving past the ranger and coming up in a roll- a spear strike landed a few inches in front of him, stopping him dead. He looked up to see the enraged face of Jaheira, her eyes glowing red as he noticed what was in her other hand- she swung at him with the elven dagger she kept, the tip of it cutting into his arm as he backpedaled. He heard a windup behind him- only a reflexive dodge saved him from being decapitated by Minsc, Jaheira moving up with her spear to strike him.

Imoen watched for a moment as Veldrin struggled with the others, Aerie still down for the count- she began to move forward, entering the chamber of the Elder Brain- she heard a sword unsheathe behind her, her eyes widening as she counted who was left. The Hallowed Redeemer sliced through the portion of air she had just occupied, Imoen dropping to the ground in a desperate attempt to avoid the attack. She found herself looking up at the face of Keldorn, the mind-controlled paladin raising his blade to stab her where she lay. She rolled left, then right, each time narrowly avoiding a strike by the holy sword, until she stopped abruptly, hurrying an incantation- she got it off in the nick of time, a Color Spray flying into his face and sending him stumbling backwards, his blade clattering to the ground. She climbed to her feet in a split second, darting towards the entrance to the Elder Brain-

_"Stop, surfacer!"_

Keldorn's voice was hollow, like his but not, and she ceased as she felt the front end of a crossbow resting against her neck from behind. She turned her head oh-so-slightly to see the paladin holding it to her neck, rage across his face.

"Keldorn... you're better than this." Imoen said evenly, trying desperately to avoid showing any of the fear she felt- the sound of Veldrin crying out as Minsc lashed out with an elbow strike, butting into the drow's face, echoed through the hallway and she swallowed, knowing she didn't have much time. "You're a Paladin of Torm... you have to fight this!"

_"He is nothing! He is mine... his will is futile. I own him, mortal." _Keldorn growled, pressing the crossbow tighter. _"I will kill you, and the others-... I..."_

She heard him falter for a split second, and the spark of hope within Imoen burst into a flame. "Keldorn! Please... fight it! If I don't kill the Elder Brain, we all die! Everyone dies! Please..."

_"He... he is... _I... I can't fight it, Imoen!" Keldorn's voice rung through as he trembled, his finger spasming over the trigger of the crossbow. "It... it's inside my h-head- _he is mine, girl!"_

"Keldorn... think of what this means." Imoen entreated. "If you kill me, you'll be killing us all. Everyone... don't do it, Keldorn. Do what's right... what's good."

"What... w-what is good." Keldorn stuttered, his hand shaking as the crossbow pulled from her neck, just slightly. "I am... I am a paladin of Torm- _You are mine!- _No!!_"_

The sound of the crossbow firing echoed through the chamber and for a moment Imoen feared she would feel the piercing of a bolt through her neck or heart- there was nothing, and she turned to see Keldorn on his knees, a bolt torn through his leg armor, buried in his thigh. He was trembling, looking up at Imoen with shaking hands. "Only... only way to stop myself- go... kill it and free us..."

Imoen smiled through tears and nodded, turning and running towards the Elder Brain of the city, the door slamming shut behind her. Veldrin backed up to the now sealed door, breathing heavily as Minsc and Jaheira moved closer, their weapons bared and bloodied. He glanced behind him at the door, then back to the two in front of him. Neither looked anywhere close to snapping out of it... and he was running out of options. If she didn't kill the Elder Brain quickly... suffice to say it would matter little whether any of them ever found out the truth.

Even as Imoen finally entered the room, the sight before her shocked and horrified her all at once. A giant brain, supported upon a pedestal; it pulsed with electrical power, the smell of its liquids and juices permeating the whole room. There were no guards in the room, and time was short- no matter the cost or risk, she had to destroy it. She took a step forward, drawing the short sword she carried. As she moved to strike, a psionic whip lashed out from the brain, blasting her- she wondered for a moment who was screaming, then realized it was her. Imoen fell to her knees, the pain blinding the corners of her eyes with white even as they were shut. Her teeth rattled as the back of her brain whitened, stabbed into by the power the brain wielded. She tried to look up, but even as her eyes barely opened, the power stabbed into her again, driving deeper into her thoughts and exploding them in her mind.

Thoughts, memories of pain past flooded her mind, the Elder Brain dragging them to the surface as it forced her to relive all of her worst fears and nightmares again and again- _Greywulf, dying in the cavern- Khalid, tortured and killed- Gorion, gutted by Sarevok- Spellhold... Bodhi... Irenicus-_

Imoen moaned in desperate pain as she writhed on the floor, but the memory of Irenicus- it had the opposite effect. She remembered the tortures inflicted upon her. She remembered the pain. Fighting the pain. She remembered the process of transference- the agony of her soul being ripped from her. It hadn't beaten her... she refused to let this beat her either. She slowly took hold of her bow, and as she lay on the floor, managed to bring it to bear even though the pain was throbbing in her entire body. She convulsed as she pulled a magical arrow of fire from her quiver, the effort nearly killing her. Tears of pain dripped from her eyes as she put the arrow upon her string; her body begged for death as every inch of pull she put on the bow cost her dearly. When the arrow was finally pulled back to its maximum length, Imoen released the bow, screaming in agony as she did. She fell back in unconsciousness, not seeing the results of her shot as blood began trickling from her nose.

Had she been awake to see it, she would have seen the arrow launch out and strike the brain full on, sinking into its fleshy swirling material. As the tip touched, all the fluid inside and saturating it burst into flame, igniting the whole organ- a mental scream ripped through the whole city, dropping each mind flayer and thrall with it's feedback. It burned and burned, the smell of burnt flesh filling the room as it died. Within a few minutes, it was over. The door at the far end of the hall slid open- in came two figures, Jaheira and Veldrin. Minsc was supporting Keldorn at the far end of the hall, Aerie barely on her feet and still trying to regain her wind after Imoen's debilitating blow.

"Quickly! She needs healing, now!" Veldrin commanded, his eyes wide with concern as Jaheira dropped to her knees, hurriedly casting the druidic spells of her craft, color just starting to return to Imoen's ashen face.

Veldrin watched the process for a moment, then stepped over to the Brain, uncorking a vial as he collected the blood pooling around it. Even as he filled it to the brim and resealed it, he tossed behind him, "As soon as you are finished, we have to move. If we hurry, we can get out of the city before the illithid recover."

"Can you not see?" Jaheira demanded. "She is in no condition to move! None of us are! We will need rest before we continue!"

"There is no time. We must go now or nobody will be left to leave the city!" Veldrin hissed back.

Jaheira seethed- but she knew his words were true. She kept working on Imoen... but her eyes never left Veldrin. Not once. And as they met glances one more time, Veldrin began to wonder if he was really safe, here amongst those he once called friend. Judging by the look in Jaheira's eyes... the answer was clear.


	72. Part 3: The Breath Before the Plunge

_Author's Note: Hmm... I kind of found this chapter to be one of those segway chapters... necessary to move the plot along but not my favorite. Hopefully it proves better to you, the audience, than me... maybe I'm just being hard on it because I'm tired and it's late. Oh wells- hope you enjoy! Oh, and just because I haven't said it in a while, Baldur's Gate and it's respective characters does not belong to me. Only Greywulf and a few elements I've thrown in. So... yeah. Don't sue me._

The sound of her breathing was rhythmic and slow, steady and sure. Exactly how the stressed and exhausted woman standing over her wanted it to be... nice and easy, no stress, no danger. Jaheira knit her brow as she examined Imoen's still face, the smooth lines of her cheekbones and nose, the only thing marring her childish innocence and beauty being the scar across her right eyelid. She sighed, relief filling her as she considered just how close they had come to losing her. How close they had come to losing everything- and it was her fault. The excuse that the elder Brain had been controlling them was flawed, at best. Keldorn had fought the domination effects... what had she done? She remembered fighting Veldrin... remembered the bloodlust that had filled her, the desire she had felt to see Veldrin dead and bleeding beneath her feet- and the damnable part of it was that she wasn't sure it had all been forced.

No... she forced the thought away, remembering the lessons of recent days. Trust was a valuable commodity, true... but it had taken Greywulf's life to see how far she had fallen from her friends. She would not make the same mistake again... not easily. Of course, that did not mean she would be inviting Veldrin into her confidence anytime soon. The sound of the door behind her opening caught her attention, and she stiffened as she realized just who had entered behind her. She placed her hands over Imoen's head again and began another spell, hoping to heal a little more of the damage done to her in the chambers of the Elder Brain.

She let her chants flow and ebb, noting that Veldrin did not speak, nor did he try to interrupt the process. Perhaps he was smarter than he looked- she did not hurry or acknowledge him until the healing spell was completed, one more step in returning Imoen to good health. She had nearly lost her mind once, in Spellhold... it would not happen here. Jaheira exhaled, for the first time in a while allowing herself to feel the exhaustion that was beginning to creep into her bones. She hadn't slept or rested since they escaped the city of the mind flayers, a surprisingly easy task once the Elder Brain had been killed. Any illithid they had come across were little more than catatonic puddles on the floor, the doors opening to a simple touch. They had hurried- limped, really- all the way back to Ust Natha as fast as they could manage, which wasn't saying much considering Keldorn and Imoen's condition. Aerie was working on Keldorn in the other room, her only lasting injury that being a fantastic bruise on her stomach.

Jaheira let a slight smile creep across her face as she thought of the move Imoen had laid on Aerie- one of the first lessons she had taught the thief-mage when teaching her how to immobilize enemies, specifically those of the spellcaster varieties. "They can't cast if they can't breathe."

The sound of an obviously forced cough came from the drow behind her, and Jaheira decided she had ignored him long enough- she supposed it did fall on her to show some gratitude- he and Imoen together had saved them all- but it would be hard for her to forgive him for pitting Imoen against the Elder Brain alone. She couldn't quite force a smile before turning to face him, her hands at her side and posture relaxed as she looked at him expectantly. "Veldrin... what is it?"

He did not answer for a moment- his focus instead seemed to be on Imoen, his eyes resting on her, a brief flicker of concern for the girl crossing his face. It passed quickly, his expression quickly becoming emotionless again. Jaheira suppressed a snort at this- she shook her head, heightening the tone of her voice this time. "Veldrin! Is there something you need?"

He met Jaheira's glare, nodding towards Imoen. "I just wanted to make sure she was going to be okay. She did save my life, after all."

The druid was not impressed- she cocked her head to the right, shrugging. "I'll pass on your regards to her then. If she wakes up, that is."

"If?!" Veldrin started forward, but suddenly stopped, though there was a definite sense of urgency to his voice. "You said-"

"I said nothing. Yes, she will probably be fine." Jaheira said, her voice dropping to a low threat. "But you put her in unquestionable danger. You sent her in alone against the most powerful force the illithid had to offer. If she does not recover, I will personally hold you responsible for this. But you probably don't care about her, do you? You should leave now... she needs rest, and I do not know how much longer I can keep my voice down with you here."

"Jaheira..." Veldrin's face softened and he seemed to struggle for words as the two faced off beside the sleeping form of Imoen. "I- this isn't... all I am. I don't show it- but just know... know that I- care. I do care."

He watched her face, hoping to find some sort of softening, some hint that she heard and understood what he was trying to say... nothing. He nodded in weary acceptance, then turned to leave. Just as his hand reached the handle, he heard her sigh, the druid resting one hand on the bedpost. "You know... the others- they want to believe you."

"And what about you?" Veldrin asked quietly, opening as it he prepared to depart.

He stepped out, just barely hearing her reply. "I want to as well. But I don't. I don't believe a damn word you say."

The door closed behind her, and Jaheira turned back to the unconscious girl, trying to focus on restoring Imoen to health and push all thoughts of Veldrin out of her mind... including the look of strange earnestness that had been present a few moments ago.

Across the hall in the Ust Natha tavern, Aerie, Keldorn, and Minsc sat together in the room, Keldorn seated on the bed as Aerie knelt by him, her hands glowing softly with light as she intoned her priestly magics. The open wound that his crossbow bolt had inflicted was close to becoming just another scar, though he had a noticeable limp that would most likely remain for some time. Minsc watched with a hint of brotherly pride, then slapped Keldorn on the back, the sound of his hand hitting the armor ringing through the room. "Another scar in the fight of right! Minsc is jealous."

The paladin chuckled, then glanced up at Minsc with an arched eyebrow. "I have no qualms with letting someone else be the recipient of such injury next time around. My honor is sufficient without adding another scar to the mix."

"How does it feel?" Aerie inquired as she pulled away, standing up to examine her work.

Keldorn extended his leg once then pulled it back, finally pushing himself off the bed and taking a step or two forward. He winced once as he put his full weight on the left leg, but he did not stumble or falter. He gripped the two handed sword he carried and brought it to guard, then to a high block, right into a sweeping low attack. He straightened up once again, seemingly satisfied with the results, then sheathed it, turning to Aerie with a nod of gratitude. "It is not perfect, as expected, but as usual, your work is excellent. My thanks."

"As long as you're all right." Aerie nodded, patting Keldorn's hand as she sat on the bed beside him. "We wouldn't want to lose you down here."

"No indeed! Nobody shall be getting lost as long as Minsc and Boo are around- Boo has an excellent sense of direction, you know." Minsc said proudly, seated across from the two.

"Then perhaps he can find us a way out of this den of vipers." Keldorn sighed. "We are in over our heads, you know... and each day that passes, I fear that we lose our way. It has nearly killed us all- only the favor of the gods kept us from destruction at the hands of the illithid."

"And Imoen!" Minsc noted. "Let us not neglect the heroism of one so small- Boo would nae let me forget if I did."

"Imoen came through for us all..." Keldorn nodded with a smile on his features. "She is a hero, Minsc... that fact is never in doubt. Still- Phaere no doubt has heard of our return, and probably awaits us even now at the Temple of Lolth."

"The less time we spend there, the better." Aerie shuddered. "Baervan protects me... but I feel her gaze on us each time we set foot in that place. I'm surprised we haven't been discovered yet, truth be told. Or betrayed."

"You speak of Veldrin, yes?" Minsc frowned. "Boo... Boo senses something worthwhile in him. And his instincts are never wrong. Minsc does not think he is so bad- why do you fear?"

"I just... I don't know." Aerie sighed. "Keldorn, am I being paranoid?"

"Hmm..." Keldorn chuckled, leaning back as his goatee flexed upward with the small laugh. "Nay, though you might be spending too much time around Jaheira. Ah- I do hope that comment will remain between the three of us. But in all seriousness, I have pondered on this much myself in the last days. For all my senses, I do not feel the aura of evil surrounding him that I do with the other drow in this place, even Solaufein. Wherever he is now..."

A sharp rap on the door drew all their glances- Aerie stood and walked to the door, opening it to find a weary looking Jaheira. "Jaheira! How is Imoen doing?"

The druid managed a smile, then stepped aside to let the girl herself pass through, Aerie letting out a cry of delight as she veritably leapt forward and embraced her friend, the human protesting tiredly with one hand on her head. "Ow! Good to see ya too, Aerie... but I'm still seeing two of you, so you might want to back off a bit before I blow chunks on your clothes..."

Aerie let go rather quickly, backing away with a grin as Imoen walked in, sitting in a chair in the corner of the room, Jaheira standing opposite her. "She awoke a minute or so past... I tried to convince her to stay in bed, but she would have none of it, and I am simply too exhausted to force her to do so."

"Like you could have managed either way." Imoen said with a defiant grin, Jaheira avoiding smiling in return by looking away. She looked at Keldorn, a hint of guilt crossing her face as she bit hr lip, looking at the bloodstained cloths still littering the floor from Aerie's healings. "So Keldorn... how's that leg? I... uh-"

"If you tell me you're sorry, I shall be forced to hurt you." Keldorn said with mock sternness, Imoen chuckling in reply. "You did me a great service, Imoen. It is I who should be thanking you. And I do, at that. Very much so."

"Meh. I'm just glad you didn't shoot me in the back of the head." she shrugged. "So... I was kind of out of it when we got here- what happened?"

"With you and Keldorn hurt, we got out of the city as fast as we could." Aerie noted. "We came straight here where Jaheira and I could work on the two of you- Keldorn was going to be okay, but there were a few times on the way back we thought we'd lose you. I- I'm glad we didn't."

"Heh. Me too." Imoen frowned once before her eyes got wide, as though remembering something important. "Umm... I'm almost afraid to ask, but you did all remember to get some of the blood from the Elder Brain right? 'Cause I'm sure not going back in there. Uh-uh. No way."

"Veldrin made certain to collect some before we left." Jaheira replied, keeping her voice perfectly even. "It was foremost on his mind, you could say."

"Didn't seem to show too much worry about little ol' Im, huh?" Imoen snorted, the effort making her wince as she grabbed at her head again. "Ow. No harm, no foul. We got the job done, right? Though... whew, I think I'm gonna sit the next few fights out. My head still feels like it's going to explode."

"I told you to take some rest. Now I don't care if I collapse on the way there, you are heading back to your room and sleeping for the next day." Jaheira said sternly, walking over to the girl and taking her by the hand, preparing to lead her back to her room, Imoen rolling her eyes as she accepted the woman's guidance. "Yes mother. Of course, mother."

They opened the door, stopping suddenly as they saw Veldrin there, his hand raised as though about ready to knock. "Oh. Look who decided to join the party... thanks for remembering to nab the blood, Veldrin... wouldn't want to go back, y'know?" Imoen said as Veldrin nodded, not quite sure of what to say.

"Er... just- just good to know you're all right." Veldrin said quietly, before stiffening. "I just received word from a messenger, sent by Phaere. She expects us to report to the Temple of Lolth within the hour- I doubt she will be patient or lenient should we disappoint her."

Jaheira glanced down at the downcast expression from Imoen, then glared up at Veldrin. "Then you and the others will be going without us. I shall remain with Imoen and continue healing her when I can. You and the others are quite capable of handling whatever Phaere has in store for us next."

"I disagree." Keldorn voiced from inside the room, standing to his feet. "This... ritual, or whatever is being planned... if the blood we found for them is the final ingredient, then our opportunities for finding..."

He lowered his voice, making sure there were no wayward strangers passing by who might overhear, then continued. "Finding the eggs will be severely limited. You were the one whom Phaere spoke to mostly the last time- I think you should be there, Jaheira."

"And who will stay with Imoen?" she replied, one hand on her hip, even as Imoen scowled, pushing off of Jaheira. "Hey! I'm not an invalid, you know. I can take care of myse- ow. Whoa... still a little dizzy."

"I shall stay with her." Keldorn declared, walking over to steady the girl, giving her a comforting smile. "We shall be invalids together, it seems. Besides... I think we have earned a small rest."

Jaheira sighed, and then looked over the faces of the others... no objections, only a slight hint of worry for the girl and the paladin. She finally nodded, turning to the others. "Very well then... we should get moving. As our guide says, Phaere is waiting."

They moved to collect their packs and head out- Veldrin grabbed Imoen's arm to stop her right before she would have disappeared back into her own room. "Imoen-"

"Hmm?"

He paused, looking for the right words... "Good job."

She eyed him with a bit of confusion, then raised both eyebrows and nodded with a chuckle. "If that's supposed to be a 'thanks for almost dying to save my life and get us all out of the mind flayer pit'... then you're welcome."

"Funny..." he said softly- with almost a hint of sadness- to nobody in particular as she vanished into her room, watching the door close with the sound of the door being locked echoing behind. "That's exactly what it was supposed to be."

X X X X X X

The vial of blood glistened in the low torch light as Ardulace lifted it high, examining it closely, as though not truly believing she finally had what she had sought- she lowered it, her eyes flashing with excitement. She nodded at Phaere, the younger drow developing a predatory smile at the confirmation from her mother. Ardulace tucked the vial of blood and brain into her robes, then turned to the four before her, smiling broadly- an unnerving smile, at best. "Ahh… it would seem that the Spider Queen smiles upon us this day. Our gamble does not go unwasted, daughter... these champions have brought us the ingredient we need!"

"Praise Lolth! The ritual may begin!" Phaere laughed, equally jubilant. "Despana will rule Ust Natha without question as the pre-eminent House!"

"Indeed. But... we must be cautious, daughter, ever cautious." Ardulace calmed slightly, eyeing the four outsiders. "The ritual may be disturbed before it is complete. The silver one may get desperate."

Jaheira snuck a brief glance at Minsc to find him glancing at her as well. The silver one… Adalon. Whatever their plans were, the eggs were still of importance, perhaps more so then they had originally thought.

"You are going to seal the city, matron?" Phaere questioned, evoking a startled glance from Veldrin, though he covered it quickly.

"Yes. We cannot be disturbed from the outside. I shall go now, and begin the proper preparations. This shall be a glorious day, indeed! Nasadrians... you have done House Despana the greatest of services. You shall be without equals… riches and slaves shall be yours. I shall see to it as soon as the ritual has been completed. Now is the time for you to rest, strong ones… there is nothing more you need prove to me." Ardulace said, nodding in approval as they bowed to her, the drow priestess striding off, machinations and plots turning in her mind as she felt her plans finally coming to fruition.

Phaere did not leave as Ardulace had done- she stepped down to the same level as the four of them, looking over them with what appeared to be concern, though the thought that it was feigned ran strongly through all their minds. "Hmm... it appears that you are stronger than I could ever have imagined. To have entered the very citadel of the illithid and slay the Elder Brain... I did not expect you to return. Not all of you, anyway."

"As you see, not all of us are here." Jaheira replied evenly. "Two of our number yet remain in the tavern, recovering."

"Really?" Phaere arched one eyebrow, looking slightly surprised. "You brought them back with you despite injuries severe enough that they would miss the accolades of the Matron Mother Ardulace? You must think very highly of their talents, to not have left them amidst the illithid."

"They would be... difficult to replace." Aerie said, lifting her chin high, defiant at the callous words of the drow. "And despite the intentions and actions of others, we do not consider our members quite so expendable."

Phaere narrowed her eyes, and for a moment it appeared as though the strangely outspoken Avariel had overstepped her bounds- but Phaere barked a laugh, easing the tensions. "An interesting way of looking at things... I would call it foolish, but if these men and women were strong enough to invade the lair of the illithid, then perhaps they should be valued, yes? But this is not why I yet remain here... there is more that I wish to speak to you and your own about. Meet me in my personal apartments at the Female Fighter's Society Tower. I expect all of you who are able bodied to come within the hour. This is not a request."

A flash of magic- a dimension door portal opened and she was gone, vanished without a trace. Even as the party slowly filed out of the Temple, heading for Phaere's quarters, a figure cloaked and shadowed watched quietly from the darkness within the Temple. Red eyes narrowed and the muscular figure slipped out from his hiding spot, moving to escape the Temple as well. He nervously glanced towards the direction where Ardulace had gone- she was not looking his way, and so he hurried his pace, turning back towards the main door- he nearly bumped into an acolyte, the drow cursing in disgust as he collected himself- he noticed who he had run into and his eyes opened wide as he began to shout-

The hooded drow reached out with both arms, grasping the acolyte with one burly arm around the mouth, muffling his shouts as he reached into his robes and activated the Dimension Door stone he had with him. He slipped through in a moment's notice, then pushed the acolyte to the ground, breathing easier. The priest looked around wildly, realizing that he was no longer within the Temple of Lolth. Dark alleys surrounded, and with the exception of his captor and perhaps the few drow who lived in the slum-like area, there were undoubtedly few who knew just where he was.

"Where have you taken me?!" he demanded, cautiously climbing to his feet, never taking his eyes off the man before him. "Speak-"

"You are foolish, presuming I would not simply kill you now without listening to your unnecessary threats." The voice was cold as the grave- a most fitting analogy. "You made the misfortune of seeing me... a mistake you might live to regret... if you are lucky. Or compliant."

"I shall do nothing of the sort, heretic!" the acolyte shouted, but he continued to back away, trying to put distance between himself and the threatening drow. "My loyalty is to Lolth alone, not to those rejected like you, Solaufein!"

He unhooded himself, strands of his white hair clinging to his face and the hood as he eyed the cleric further. "Hmm. Perhaps you are right- perhaps I have no use for you after all. If that is the case, I should simply kill you and be done with it."

He drew the great sword he carried, and at the sight of the gleaming adamantine blade, the drow cleric nearly fell to his knees, pleading for his life. "No! I can- I can be of use... what is it you need? Anything!"

Solaufein paused a moment... he walked to the drow, grabbing him by the face and pulling him close as he squeezed tightly. "Your loyalties are... fickle, it seems. Do not betray me, or you will see why the name of Solaufein is feared."

He threw him off, sending him to the ground with a thud. "Now- as for what you can do to purchase your life. You know as well as I that I am... supposed to be, at the least, dead. There are tasks I must do that are too delicate for me to risk exposing myself as I did at the Temple today... this little incident has only shown me what I knew to begin with. I must have someone to act on my behalf. You, it appears, have been selected for that job. What is your name, boy?"

"K'yorl... House Quavein." he swallowed, slowly seeing his chances at surviving the next few minutes increasing.

"Very well then, K'yorl." Solaufein walked over and pulled him from the ground, brushing him off with a glare, leading him over to one of the old houses and off the streets. "I will give you commands, and you shall follow them to the letter. Should you betray me or even consider trying to warn those I set you upon, Lolth herself will not rescue you from the fury I will reign on your head. Do you understand?"

K'yorl looked into the eyes of his captor, hoping to find some measure of courage, some way to resist the domineering will of this warrior heretic... he cringed at what he saw in those eyes. "Y-yes. I understand."

X X X X X X X

_"What do you think she wants, Veldrin?" Aerie whispered as they stood before Phaere's quarters, preparing to knock._

_"I wish I knew..." Veldrin murmured, and it wasn't quite clear whether he was speaking to the others or merely to himself. He glanced back at the Avariel and shook his head lightly. "I don't know, truly. It must have something to do with the ritual- if the city is sealed, it is even more important that we find the eggs quickly. Adalon can no longer help us- I will not even be able to contact her by magic."_

_"As strange as it may be, I agree with Veldrin." Jaheira added grimly, her face tightening as she clutched her spear close. "I sense... something. Nature screams in protest as the days pass by- whatever this ritual is, it must not be allowed to come to fruition. I have heard stories… legends of dark drow rituals involving sacrifices of great power. I do not think they wanted the eggs merely as a buffer against Adalon's wrath. I feel some darker purpose is behind all this."_

_Her door opened quietly, but the woman pacing down the hall was well within view of the door, and she looked up at them, her face showing a hint of suspicion- relief crossed it as she saw who was entering. She beckoned them closer, and they stood before Phaere once more, the drow gazing at them in what looked like... fear? Worry? An unfamiliar emotion to see on the powerful woman's face, to be sure._

_"I have no time to bandy words or cryptic messages... only a simple offer to you six warriors." Phaere started, looking each one of them in the eyes, her tone deathly serious. "I have a plan… a plan that will place me as the head of House Despana even as Despana itself takes its place as the rightful ruling House of Ust Natha. My plan includes the six of you... without your timely arrival here none of this would have been possible. Do as I say and your rewards will be unimaginable. Refuse and… well, why would you refuse? You have everything to gain, Nasadrians. Everything. In order for this plan to be successful, however, you must betray the Matron Mother. Are you willing to do this? Think carefully on your answer."_

_Jaheira took a step forward, her eyes narrowed with suspicion. "Since you have told us this much, I do not believe we have much of a choice, do we?"_

_"No." Phaere said with a smile, shaking her head. "This is why I respect you... you see the world as it is, and adapt accordingly. But I will not reveal the rest until I have heard it from your lips... all of you."_

_Each one nodded in turn, Phaere finally coming to the drow in their midst. The others glanced at Veldrin, wondering if his previous ties would set him apart from them in this new venture..."I have no loyalty to the Matron Mother, Phaere. She means nothing to me." Veldrin said grimly._

_"I hear the ring of truth in your words, Veldrin... all of you have proven yourselves time and time again, and I shall not doubt your loyalty now." Phaere said with satisfaction. "I will allow you to aid me in my plans. You heard Matron speak of the ritual? Matron will summon a demon of terrible power... one to aid in our war against the surface elves."_

_"Open battle between the drow and the surface has not occurred for hundreds of years." Jaheira muttered under her breath, just loud enough for Aerie, standing right beside her, to hear. "With a greater demon to back them… I truly wonder why Irenicus would do this."_

_"The blood is a component in the ritual, used to draw the demon's attention and bring him before us. But, most gloriously, House Despana has acquired the eggs of a silver dragon. The one guarding the route to the surface that we drow descended from so long ago. Holding the eggs hostage keeps the silver dragon from interfering. Even better, Matron Mother intends to use them as an offering to the demon to enlist its aid. Indeed, what demon could refuse?" Phaere laughed at the thought, even as the blood in the veins of her 'allies' turned to ice. "House Despana will have opened the way for the war and summoned its most powerful warrior. We shall become pre-eminent."_

_"And... where, may I ask, do we come into play, Phaere?" Veldrin asked cautiously, choosing his words carefully. "The blood is yours, as are the eggs... what is left for us to do?"_

_"You see, there is no rule that states Ardulace must still be Matron Mother of such a powerful House." Phaere said with a crafty smile. "Go to the Temple treasury, steal the dragon's eggs and replace them with the false copies that I have made. You will then bring the real eggs to me."_

_Phaere handed Veldrin a large orb of magic, a swirling globe with several brownish ovals inside, small patterns and bumps and ridges covering the eggs. Veldrin took them and secured them in his pack, taking a deep breath as he did. Their goal was close now… and no mistakes could be allowed._

_"Matron will offer the fake eggs to the demon and be killed," Phaere continued. "Then I shall offer him the real eggs. The ritual will be completed and I shall become Matron Mother. Here… here is the key to the temple treasury. There are only two copies, the one you have and the one Ardulace has, so you should not be disturbed from temple guards while searching for them. Return with the real eggs before the ritual is to begin. I give you one warning… the guards inside the treasury room will try to stop you, if they see you. Kill them only if you must. Use stealth… now go."_

"Well of course we're going to do what she said!" Imoen exclaimed, sitting straight up in what looked like excitement, before wincing as her head began throbbing again. "We can't pass this kind of opportunity up-"

"I told you to conserve your strength." Jaheira said sternly, helping her lie back down on the bed they were meeting in, back at the Ust Natha tavern. The others had returned and related the full story to Keldorn and Imoen, finally finishing with the question on everyone's mind... what would they do?

Imoen sighed, then gestured out with one hand wildly, expressing just how tired she was of her injuries. "Look... I know we can't actually let the demon have the eggs... or even let the ritual happen. But we've got the key to the treasury! Phaere expects us to steal the eggs... so we steal them!"

"And what if this is a trap?" Keldorn shot a glance her way, his fingertips together as he bowed his head, looking up grimly. "What if her betrayal of Matron Ardulace is nothing more than a ruse to give her an excuse to lay us to waste? If we turn the corner of the Temple treasury and find a dozen guards waiting for us, then we will have no alternative but to fight our way out. It is not a prospect I welcome... or find particularly survivable."

"I think I am tired of such deceit and sneakiness." Minsc grumbled. "I would rather fight a dozen battles with Boo at my side than partake in such stealth. It is unbefitting for a miniature giant space hamster to tell such lies and deceptions."

"Let us consult our guide, then." Jaheira glanced at Veldrin, the drow looking surprised for a brief moment. "Well? Should we believe her, or is this more drow treachery?"

He did not answer immediately... Veldrin finally exhaled quietly, shaking his head. "I do not know. I simply do not know. But whether it is a trap or not, Imoen is right. We have never had a better opportunity, nor will we again I gather. We have the means, the way, and the ability. We recover the eggs and worry about what to do with them afterwards."

"Couldn't we just take the eggs once we've got them and leave the city?" Aerie asked hopefully.

"No. Ardulace mentioned she had sealed the city, and nobody will be going in or out until the ritual is complete." Veldrin said, shaking his head. "There must be a way… though I cannot see it."

"What if we were to betray Phaere to Ardulace?" Imoen suggested. "We could replace the eggs as Phaere intends… but then we tell Ardulace about Phaere. If there's really only two keys to the treasury, Ardulace never need find out we were ever inside, and she'll take the key as evidence if we're lucky. Hmm... we'd have to be careful, though. If she finds out we were ever inside it'd be over. No blood, or she'll call our bluff right there."

"She would not believe your story anyway... at least not fully. One does not become Matron Mother by believing stories based on so little evidence as a key that could have been stolen from anywhere." a voice interrupted from the shadows slipping from the corners of the room unnoticed.

They turned quickly, weapons drawn and ready to see the hooded form of Solaufein, his grim visage as imposing as ever.

"Solaufein? What are you doing here... and how did you get in for that matter?" Keldorn asked in surprise. "You cannot be seen- you would be killed quickly. You know this."

"Perhaps, but I have been seeking you for almost a day now, and it is worth the risk to have found you. I have been hiding in the shadows of the city for some time now, and I believe I may be able to repay you for your mercy." Solaufein said, a determined smile on his scarred face. "You told me something of your mission here… and I believe I may be able to help you. I recently acquired an... ally, for the time I have left within the city. He followed Phaere as she went to have copies of the dragon's eggs made, and from what he overheard and reported to me, I have surmised her plan. No doubt, it involves using you as well."

"You found someone willing to aid you within the city?" Aerie frowned. "Are you certain what he told you is trustworthy."

"I have no doubt he was telling the truth." Solaufein responded darkly, a glint of malice in his eyes as he spoke. "I am... persuasive, when I must be. Not my most favorite of tasks, but just another sin to atone for when I escape this pit of darkness. As it is, I believe I have found a way that you can fool Phaere, if that is what you wish. While your plan has merit, I do not believe Ardulace will believe you unless you can show her more proof. The plan I have conceived is slightly different... but I leave it up to you whether to implement it or not."

"We're running low on the whole 'flashes of insight' thing, so we're all ears." Imoen said with a grin, tossing the covers from her as she sat up, using the backrest to support her.

"The acolyte in my employ made a second copy of the eggs after Phaere left." Solaufein grunted, checking the edge on the dagger he carried close on his belt. "Phaere marked hers so she could recognize them… these are not so. If you give them to her, I can almost guarantee she will be fooled. She will meet the same fate as her mother when the ritual takes place... a death more horrible than I care to think about."

"A sound idea... but are you sure about this?" Veldrin asked quietly. "You and I are drow... we are different, but we both have our demons to deal with. Is this truly what you wish?"

Solaufein glared heavily, and Veldrin was slightly unnerved as the bulkier elf's hand twitched in the direction of his sword, but the drow calmed quickly, the only hint he had been rattled being the fire in his eyes. "I care nothing for the war upon the surface elves... I have struck and been struck by the darthirii... they are worthy foes, but not deserving of the hatred my people place upon them."

"And Phaere?" Aerie asked quietly, the simple words turning Solaufein's head, unable to meet their eyes while speaking.

"She... she is not the woman I once knew. She will not be that woman again." he growled. "She died long ago, and the only thing left is this mockery that bears her face and name. I would be glad to see her dead and buried, if only to honor the memory of the woman I loved."

It was quiet when he had finished speaking- Keldorn stood with some modicum of effort, nodding in agreement. "It is decided then. We will use your plan, and with the blessings of the gods... both above and below, we will see this through to the end."

Solaufein nodded slowly and procured the orb from his robes, handing it to the paladin. He eyed the eggs, their look and build almost identical to the ones Phaere had delivered. So similar... he prayed they would pass the test.

"That just leaves one thing." Jaheira exhaled deeply, eyeing the group members in their midst. "We still have to get inside the Temple without being noticed by the guards and find Adalon's eggs. It will not be easy."

"That's why I'm here, right?" Imoen said, looking slightly miffed. "They'll never see me coming-"

"In your condition? I should say not." Jaheira shook her head, her tone brooking no protest. "One slip could be fatal... we need someone at full strength and awareness to get in... someone who has the ability to be as stealthy as a rogue..."

"Well if not me, then who?" Imoen argued- before she realized what... or rather who, was on the mind of the druid. "Really? No... you have got to be kidding."


	73. Part 3: Adalon Rising

_Author's Note: Once again, a big thanks to everyone who's been patient and followed this massive beast all the way so far. I appreciate the support, and hope the writing is as good as it was when I started. (Or better.) On that note... enjoy! Loves me some sappy reunionness..._

The Temple of Lolth was a shadowed place, full of darkness and evil like the goddess to whom it was devoted. Acolytes shuffled in their large, over-sized robes from altar to altar, bringing sacrifices or merely cringing under the ever-present gaze of the Spider Queen. Still, here in this den of evil, there was hope. Hope for good- hope that a beacon of light might pierce through and give them their escape from this wretched place. Here, in the Temple of Lolth, they made their last gambit.

A priestess walked across the hall, her footsteps clicking against the solid stone floor of the chamber, her shadow flickering with the torchlight as she passed an altar of stone, two candelabras holding eight candles each, and the two support pillars that held that portion of the structure up. Within moments of her steady gait, she was gone. The shadows that flickered in her wake, however, did not disappear so quickly. One moved, shifting as the darkness that encapsulated them warped... a broad elf emerged from behind the pillar, peering around the corner to look down the hall- there. The main chamber... the same one in which they had met Matron Mother Ardulace. The same one where the Matron Mother stood and barked orders and instructions now. The same one which contained a side passage that would lead directly to the Treasury.

Minsc glanced back towards the hall where the priestess had walked, then jogged from his spot, throwing his enormous bulk down the hall at a surprisingly quick pace. A figure at the near end of the main chamber suddenly came into view, crossing perpendicular to their path. Minsc went down quickly, rolling to the side and behind a statue of Lolth that stood in the very center of the corridor. If the drow had noticed, she did not say anything or show a reaction. She moved on, out of sight within seconds. Minsc watched, his eyes tracking the movements of the men and women in the central chamber, then turned around, looking back towards the altar he had originally fled from. He bent down and put his hands by his belt, gently setting Boo on the cold floor. The hamster shook once, shivered almost at the touch of the stone.

Minsc whispered quietly, and with only a moment's hesitation, it scampered straight down the hall, disappearing behind the altar. Within moments, three other figures, hooded and running as fast and low as their legs would take them, swept in behind Minsc, taking refuge.

Minsc nodded gratefully as Aerie handed Boo back to Minsc, the ranger letting his unofficial messenger and scout slip comfortably back into the belt pouch he wore. Veldrin glanced about, keeping his voice low as he whispered, "This is a bad idea. We should not be clustered so- we will be easier to spot this way."

"Minsc is the one here with stealth skills... we'll let him run this, all right?" Aerie countered, even though her faith in Minsc's abilities might not have been as solid as she claimed. He was a ranger, through and through, and he had shown more than once to Yoshimo that he could be stealthy when the occasion called for it... but it was not evident upon first glance. His stature made him less than ideal for getting in and out of places that Imoen could fit with ease, and he did not normally show the patience or agility of the thief-mage either. It was all Aerie could do not to plead with him to avoid his usual tactic of charging in head-first and war-cries echoing.

Still, it surprised her even more when Minsc turned to the other three and nodded gravely. "Veldrin is right. We should not all be here... Minsc will keep moving. Aerie, Jaheira and Veldrin should follow behind."

The druid glanced at the drow, and for all he could tell, she was perfectly fine with merely keeping an eye on the outsider. All three nodded their consent... and with a deep breath, the ranger in their midst went to work.

He watched the paces of the figures in the next room, those who appeared to be guards, stationed for the duration of the day, those who were clerics whose duties were merely taking them in the vicinity for the moment, and the others. It was the others... the variables that made him nervous.

He watched for five whole minutes, never moving, blinking so very rarely. The stillness was almost unbearable... Aerie glanced up at Jaheira, the question in her eyes obvious and desperate to ask. Jaheira did not have an answer... she finally leaned over to open her mouth and-

In a blur of motion, Minsc was off. He was running at full tilt, his heavy plate armor left behind with Keldorn and Imoen back at the tavern for this task. Even the two axes he carried were missing from their usual position- only one hung from his side now, this one firmly attached and only for a final defense. He was just entering through the portal of the room, visible to everyone who cared to look his way. Minsc looked to his right- the first. A guard walking directly away from him, two or three seconds away from making an about-face and coming back the other way. He was at least ten strides away for a normal person with a normal gait. Minsc vaulted the entire distance in a second and a half, landing behind him without a sound. Just as he spun to turn around, a blur of movement went around his other side and slipped behind him.

Minsc dared not breathe- he looked out and toward the full expanse of the room, now completely laid out before him. The main altar, bloody and soiled with the life of hundreds of victims, stood diagonally from him at the center of the north wall- Matron Mother Ardulace stood before it now. Flanking her were two Handmaidens and guards behind them. The rest of the room was a mishmash of busy-bodies and workers... his cover. Minsc waited until it was unlikely that his current man would see him with peripheral vision, just long enough for the others in the room to begin turning their head his way- then he moved again- the second.

There were two platforms that intersected along the edge of the main room at the south western corner- each one led closer to the main Treasury path, directly across from the altar. This would give him a vantage point to see who was watching that hallway- assuming he could get there. Two pillars blocked his field of vision from seeing the entirety of who would approach and see where he was going, but it was a calculated risk- one that did not pay off. Halfway to the platforms he saw the shadows of approaching figures slip into view accompanied by the sound of their voices. He glanced back- the man he had been shadowing previously would reach his turn-around point on the other side of the room within moments. He had nowhere to go but forward... right into the arms of the two unwitting clerics. He steeled himself and, only missing a half-step of hesitation, threw caution to the wind and bolted. As soon as he had reached the last possible step before he would have been seen, the ranger leapt, flying across the platform in front of the surprised drow. His momentum took him over the edge, disappearing into the abyss below, the chasms over which the city was built. The two clerics could not tell if what they had seen was reality or merely a figment of their imagination... had someone truly just dived over the edge?

They both ran to the end of the platforms, peering over the spiked edges and trying to see if there was a body plummeting away- too late, one of the clerics noticed an iron fist gripping one of the spikes extended from the edge of the platform. It clenched hard and yanked, pulling the big man holding on up and whipping his free hand up to grab the ankle of one of the clerics, sweeping him over. The other cleric opened his mouth to cry in alarm and might've sounded an alarm, if not for the fact that the one being pulled over grabbed at anything to keep from being thrown into the abyss... including his friend. Both found themselves hanging onto each other, one of them being supported upside down by Minsc's grip, clutching his ankle. Minsc looked down at the two, meeting one of their frightened gazes as they hung there... Minsc's hand loosened and he swung himself up to see who was watching or might've seen, ignoring the sound of the two doomed men as they fell.

Nobody was pointing fingers or hurrying over to investigate the disappearance of the two unlucky drow... Minsc slowly crawled back up and crouch-walked to a small sculpture of drow design that protruded from the wall, his bulk just barely fitting behind it. He peered out again, looking at the timing of the guard and how long it would take him to get to the next bit of cover. A guard patrolled back and forth across the entrance into the corridor that led to the Treasury... he would be the main problem. The corridor was just far enough away that by the time he got to the entrance the guard would have turned and seen Minsc's approach. Dispatching the two clerics earlier had been a necessary evil, but the more blood that was shed, the more likely it was that their plan would be uncovered. Minsc's hand twitched once as he felt the grip of his axe beside him... he grinned as he thought of the approach he could take to this whole situation-no. He focused again, pushing away the thought. His witch would be very unhappy if he changed the plan now.

Still, that didn't help him in his current predicament. He studied his opponent a moment longer, slowly coming to rest on a decision that might-barely- work...

Aerie's eyes widened as she watched the ranger slowly begin to creep forward, his posture suggesting he was just about ready to move. "The guard is moving too quickly- he'll be caught!" she whispered behind her to Jaheira and Veldrin. "I don't..."

"Hush..." Veldrin murmured, the two women looking at him in indignation, but he appeared to be in deep concentration, hunched over with both hands on his head. "A Confusion spell... might be enough to get him in-"

"They'll notice!" Jaheira began to protest in alarm, but it was too late. The spell ignited, flashing from their hiding position, illuminating them for a brief moment. Even so, the magic hurtled past them and in front of Minsc, rushing to meet the drow guard as he turned around, his gaze settling on Minsc as the ranger moved from his hiding spot...

He stopped, frowning as the drow man walked carefully and quickly towards him. He looked like he wanted to get by him, to enter the corridor beside them both... what? There was something... he was supposed to do. A job... but the other man looked busy, and he didn't want any trouble. He stepped aside, only sparing one glance at Minsc as he continued his rounds, seeing nothing and everything at once as he tried to regain his wits.

Minsc looked behind him once as he moved, finally within the last stretch toward the Temple Treasury. The big ranger let himself enjoy a sigh of relief as he came to the hard corner at the passage, just about to take a step past- and stopping as he realized the last impediment to his progress. That impediment being a contingent of two guards and two sword spiders, one of each on either side of the large treasury double doors. Minsc's face became crestfallen as he saw the latest of his challenges. Stealth, Minsc decided, was really just not for him.

He looked down the hall, examining his options. Nothing. Flat walls, no ornamentation, no cover. He looked at the guards... no patrol routes, no flanking positions. Minsc sighed, looking up in desperation... the big ranger got a grin on his face as he saw the banners that hung with the insignia of Lolth above on the high- really high- ceiling. With that, Minsc began looking for something on the walls nearby, an indentation, anything to give him a way to start climbing...

The squeaks of the furry little hamster caught their attention once more as the three sat behind the statue of Lolth, still hiding and waiting for the ranger's signal. As it was, the hamster had just arrived and given them the all clear to approach. Of course, that was a problem in its own right. Still, if he had done his job and checked for any obvious spell detection traps, it should be little problem. No reason for the drow clerics frequenting this place to have True Sight's activated... right?

Aerie whispered prayers of her own divine purpose, cloaking Jaheira and herself from sight. Veldrin smirked once, then brought one hand to the ring on his left hand and twisted the small piece of jewelry. With that, the three moved unseen through the hall, their footsteps as silent as the grave. They were past the patrols and the clerics within moments- at one point it seemed as though Ardulace turned and looked directly through them- rather, at them was the worry- but she turned and returned to her business of barking orders, letting the three very relieved spies continue on, pass into the corridor where Minsc crouched, waiting for them... he wasn't there. Aerie frowned, moving up further to see what was around the other corner... she bit back a slight gasp, Jaheira gritting her teeth in irritation as she saw what Minsc had done.

Veldrin chuckled once, then twisted his ring once more, walking to the sheepish looking ranger who stood amidst the four dead guards, his only sign of injury that being a cut across his left arm. His right still clutched Stonefire, the blade red with the blood of his foes. "I thought we were going to avoid killing them!" Jaheira growled as Aerie moved to the door, placing her hands on it as she attempted to discern any traps placed.

"Minsc... eh, Minsc did not see any other way." The ranger brightened as he saw Boo in Jaheira's other hand, the fuzzy animal making it's way from Jaheira's hand to his, the druid still upset, her lips pursed in irritation. "Minsc had to climb the wall, use the banners above to get over the top of the guards..."

Jaheira looked up, exhaling in realization as she saw the banner directly above the guard's station... torn in two. "Let me guess... it was not quite built to stand your weight."

Minsc shrugged, then turned to Aerie as the girl stood, shaking her head. "It's not trapped actually... just locked."

"Lucky for us we have the key then." Veldrin confirmed stepping up and sliding the key into the lock, smiling at the satisfying 'snick' of the door being unlocked. The doors opened, and as though the mere opening of such a guarded portal would alert everyone around, they moved inside, pulling the bodies in with them as fast as they could, shutting it. Veldrin locked it, and then turned around- he nearly jumped as he saw the clay golems stationed around the room, one nearly right in front of him. There were five in total... none moved, but the rumble and fizzle of magic that indwelt their bodies left no doubts in their minds that the constructs could be activated at a moment's notice.

He heard a gasp of air from Aerie; Veldrin nodded, murmuring loud enough for her to hear. "I know. Let's try not to wake them up."

"Not them. Look-" Aerie turned his attention to the wall at the end of the room, covered in pedestals and niches where globes of magic sat. Inside each globe was a treasure, some kind of item of great power and magic, enough so that the drow of Ust Natha felt it necessary to encase them within this storehouse. Jaheira's eyes skimmed over each one keenly, searching for the one they needed, what they had been hunting for so long now. Her gaze drifted over one orb- this one did not contain the eggs, but instead a sword blade and hilt, both tinted blue. Elvish runes ran along the blade's length and along the hilt, while a blood groove separated two edges of the blade's full three feet. It looked razor sharp, though there was a large spot in the hilt where a cavity rested, unfilled-

"The Equalizer." Veldrin murmured, Jaheira turning to see him staring at the blade and hilt, his eyes fiercely upon them.

"You know of the legend?" she asked.

"What drow does not know the tale of The Equalizer, the legends of Drow-bane?" he retorted, turning back to the sword. "My people must have found the two pieces scattered in the Underdark... the third is somewhere on the surface."

Jaheira watched him, the way he looked at the blade... she thought of saying something, then thought better of it. "It doesn't matter. Focus on the task at hand."

They kept looking, scouring through several assorted treasures, things of obvious value, some things with hidden worth. Finally, they came across the orb they sought, the dragon eggs still nestled inside. Jaheira exhaled deeply, kneeling beside the pedestal where the eggs sat, hovering just above the surface. "Veldrin... the moment that I move the globe, replace it with Phaere's eggs. Do you understand?" He did not answer, only procured the faux copies that Phaere had made and knelt opposite Jaheira, his hands only twitching just slightly as he waited for her to move the originals- with one final moment of silence, Jaheira's hands darted out and grasped the globe, pulling it out. Just as quickly, Veldrin's globe moved in, putting Phaere's false eggs in place. All eyes moved to the golems, and their blood rose as the eyes seemed to glow red- the light left them after a few moments, apparently fooled as well by the false offering. A collective sigh of relief went through the group as Jaheira held the globe up, her hands tremulous as she held the much sought after eggs.

She wrapped it gently, taking great care with it as she covered it with cloth, then gently placing it in her pack. As they prepared to leave, Veldrin glanced at the orb containing the sword. He studied the blade further, thinking quickly as the others reached the door, looking back at his hesitation. "Veldrin? This is not time for treasure seeking. We must leave- our plan is already in danger of failing after the deaths of the guards."

Veldrin nodded, smiling tightly to himself. "Indeed. They'll know something happened... unless we shift the blame."

"What do you mean?" Aerie frowned.

"If nothing is missing, the eggs will be the most likely prospects to be concerned with." Veldrin gestured toward the resting place of the now false eggs. "If we take something else... something important... the blade of whom everyone knows, perhaps... it will divert suspicions. We might even hide a few of the bodies outside the treasury... with any luck the Matron Mother will believe that the missing guards killed the other guards for the blade and fled."

"That is without a doubt the worst idea I've ever heard." Jaheira argued... but her face softened. "But we have little choice in the matter. You know what this will imply..."

Minsc grinned and unstrung his axe, walking over to one of the golems, holding it like a bat as Veldrin leaned out to take the globe with the sword inside...

X X X X X X

"I think we've done this before." Imoen remarked as the six of them stood before Phaere's door at the Female Fighter's Society. Keldorn glanced at the girl, a wry smile crossing his venerable features. "Perhaps, but we've little choice. You and I both checked the exits of the city before the others returned... the seals have been enacted and the guards could not let us out if they had wanted too."

"A good idea to check, nonetheless." Jaheira agreed. "We cannot get out until Ardulace lifts the wards... she will not do so until the ritual takes place."

Imoen glanced at the second set of eggs that Veldrin kept in his pack- the fakes that Solaufein had provided them. Where the drow was now they did not know- he had left soon after the four had left to invade the Temple. He had spoken of ensuring their escape... they assumed he was searching for an exit as well. Hopefully he would be able to find them when everything was said and done. "Well, I suppose we should knock." Imoen shrugged, banging once on the doors to Phaere's living space. "After all... we wouldn't want to keep the drow from what they've earned, right?"

Jaheira cocked her head at that comment, trying not to smirk... the door opened and revealed an impatient Phaere, her eyes furtive as she ushered them in, closing the door quickly. She was almost rubbing her hands with greed as she awaited her prize. Her eyes glistened as Veldrin slowly procured the eggs from his pack, holding them as though they were every bit as precious as the real ones. Phaere showed the same care in taking them from him, looking them over. "You Nasadrians are marvels... brilliant beyond belief, for outsiders such as yourselves! So these are the silver dragon's eggs?" Phaere said, examining them. Veldrin gritted his teeth just slightly, watching Phaere as she looked them over. His nerves grew with every second she took, but finally she looked up with a smile and put the orb in her own robes, apparently satisfied. "Yes, they must be. You have performed well. I will go to the temple for the ritual…I expect you to be present for my victory. Go to the temple and meet me, and do not delay, or I will be most angry."

Phaere did as was her wont, disappearing through magical means once again. The entire group turned to Jaheira as though reassuring themselves that they still had the true eggs, and indeed, she pulled out the orb she carried, the silver dragon eggs inside. As they looked at the ovals resting inside the globe of magic, they saw a flash of magic, and whirled to meet it, Jaheira backing up quickly, tucking the eggs away as fast as possible. It was indeed a teleportation spell... but not Phaere. Instead, before them floated an imp, though this one did not seem quite as crazy as the ones they had encountered in the past. He blinked once as though taking in his surroundings, then brightened as he saw the group.

"Ahh, here am I, here am I. Wondering you who I am must you be, yes? Servant loyal to the silver one, forever!" the imp said, his head bobbing up and down. "The silver one serve you, or her bidding do you, matters it does not. Watching you, have I been. Most interesting a time, watching you. Tricky, tricky, tricky! Deceit upon deceit, the silver one's eggs safe from immediate harm, they be. But get them out of the city, you must! Closed magically, sealed, the city is. Barely can I get through. Dead the Matron Mother Ardulace first must be, if leave you wish to. Once dead the Matron Mother be, fleeing with eggs you should be. Much anger from priestesses will come… stretching out with magic will they be, to find the source of the death they will seek. Minutes, you have, maybe… before revealed your disguise is! Quickly leaving you must be. Failing the silver one if you do… coming to you, she will. Liking that you will not. Saving eggs you must. To the Matron Mother's daughter, go you must… waiting in the temple for you she is. Of the essence, time is very! Wishing you luck, 'drowlings'…

With that, the imp vanished again, not risking being seen for long. "Minutes?" Aerie said hesitantly. "Can we make it to the city gates in a few minutes once Ardulace is dead?"

"A group Haste spell might be our best bet." Imoen said. "I can cast one as soon as we get the opportunity."

"All right then, we're clear on this. The moment the ritual is over and the city is unsealed, Imoen, you haste us all, and we get out of here as fast as we can. Doesn't matter who sees us running, our reputations should be enough to keep us out of most trouble." Keldorn said grimly.

"And if our disguises wear off before we get to the gates?" Veldrin asked.

"Then we will fight! Enough sneaking and treachery- if it comes to it, Minsc will not back away." the ranger said firmly, once again in full armor and battle equipped.

"Well, yes." Keldorn acquiesced. "If it comes to it, we fight our way to the exit, and make sure that Jaheira makes it out alive, if nothing. She has to make it to Adalon's cave."

"If that's settled, then we best get moving. Adalon awaits." Veldrin said, ending the discussion as he headed for the door.

The others were too on edge to complain of his brusque manner, but they followed him as they walked back to the Temple of Lolth, Imoen constantly mumbling to herself as they went. "What are you doing?" Aerie asked quietly.

"Timing how long it takes from here to the Temple." Imoen said quickly, then resuming her counting. She took another brief pause to add, "It's nearly ten minutes from the Female Fighter's Society building to the city gates by walking at a strong pace. Running with Haste might cut it down to two or three."

When they reached the steps of the Temple, Imoen sighed and said, "Almost another ten minutes. By my estimate, it'll take us about five minutes to get out once we leave the Temple."

"Let's hope we have that much." Aerie shivered as they pushed open the doors, entering into the main altar room once more. Phaere was waiting for them again, a slightly suppressed yet knowing smile on her face.

"You have come!" Phaere said, gesturing for them to follow her. "The ritual is about to begin… and my ascension shall be sweet indeed."

They bowed and followed her into a ritually prepared room off to the side, a circular room filled with darkened candles of incense and wax. The flame on the candles burned dim, but enough to show the circle of magical inscription upon the floor. Two bowls of burning coals were placed behind the circle, and Ardulace was already standing before them in ceremonial garb, different vials and pouches lying at her feet. She nodded as they walked in, and she said, "Very well. All preparations have been made. It is time for the ritual to begin. In moments the drow will rule supreme, with House Despana first among them. Ensure nothing disturbs my casting. When the demon appears, do not interfere. Mistakes from any of you will earn a quick death and eternal torment. Now… I shall begin."

Aerie's breath caught in her throat as she watched in revulsion. Ardulace began chanting in a different drow tongue, calling many incantations out as she did. She picked up a leather pouch at her feet, then pulled a handful of red dust from it. She threw it forth, and the lines of the inscription on the ground turned blood red. She set that down, then pulled a handful of black dust from a second pouch and did the same, this time the candle flames turned black, writhing about on their wicks, as though alive and seeking something to devour. Finally, she took the vial of blood they had recovered from the Elder Brain of the illithid, and with a mighty final incantation, threw it into the circle of magic. The blood spilled onto the ground, and for a moment, it seemed as though nothing was happening. However, the blood soon began to spread, thinner and thinner until it was covering the whole area enclosed by the circle of magic. It began bubbling as with great and terrible heat, culminating in once final up-rush of magic and fire from the blood stained circle. Before them now stood a demon lord of the ancient world, similar in appearance to the Balor they had previously fought, though this one radiated power much greater than anything the former Balor had possessed. Its eyes were black instead of yellow, and smoke seemed to radiate from its body. It burned as though its shoulders were covered in coals, and it held a sword of black flame in one hand. The other hand had claws of length nearing three feet each, and the creature itself was at least twenty feet tall itself. It looked around once, then focused on Ardulace who seemed attracted to, rather than afraid of the mighty evil before her.

"I HAVE COME…. YOU HAVE WRESTED ME FROM MY PLANE, DARKLING…. HAVE GOOD REASON , OR I SHALL TAKE MY PRICE IN DARKLING BLOOD… "

"I have good reason, lord of the nether pits!" Ardulace cried out, bowing low before the fiery demon. "I beseech you to aid the drow cause in the war against our hated surface cousins, to carve their pale flesh!"

The demon seemed slightly intrigued, if it's monstrous face could express such emotion, but it rumbled back, AND WHAT MANNER OF TITHE WOULD YOU OFFER ME FOR SUCH A DEED, DARKLING? WHAT MANNER OF PAYMENT WARRANTS MY AID?

"I offer you these, lord of fiends." Ardulace bowed low, holding forth a magical globe as she knelt down. Inside were the false dragon eggs Phaere had made and no mistake, as Phaere glanced at them and smirked, recognizing them easily. "Eggs of a silver dragon, a self-righteous creature of light. Yours to do with as you please, in return for your aid."

The demon lord said nothing for a moment, but then roared with an inferno of rage and darkness, it's fiery breath knocking Ardulace back into the wall, scorching the hem of her robes. "FOOLISH DARKLING. DO YOU THINK I WOULD BE TAKEN IN BY SUCH A SIMPLISTIC DECEPTION!"

"What… what do you mean, o dark lord?" Ardulace asked in shock, looking down at the eggs before her, the magic protecting them broken with the blast of fire. They were slowly melting before her with the intense heat, the brown gooey liquid dripping through Ardulace's scalded fingers. "These… these are-"

"THEY ARE FALSE, DARKLING. I WOULD TAKE SUCH A TITHE, WERE IT REAL, BUT NOW YOU HAVE OFFENDED ME. PERISH, LITTLE DARKLING WOMAN."

The demon lord swung his sword down as the black flame around it intensified, brought greater by the anger of the demon at having been made a false offer. "No! NO! Lolth protect your faithf-" Ardulace shrieked before the sword hit, cleaving Ardulace in two, the pieces left igniting and burning in fire on the ground.

The demon looked back at the remainder of the people there, Phaere inhaling deeply as the demon's eyes fixed on her. "HOW DARE YOU CALL ME FORTH! HOW DARE YOU TEMPT ME WITH EGGS OF HATED SILVER, BUT THEN DECEIVE ME! I AM TEMPTED TO RAZE THIS CITY TO ASHES!"

Phaere stepped forward with all the courage she could muster and shouted, "Hold, demon! I am the daughter of the one who has summoned you… and I have the eggs that you seek! I offer them to you as the tithe!"

The demon lord glanced at the orb in Phaere's outstretched hands, it's eyes narrowing with renewed interest… but it then began to laugh. It was a most unpleasant sound, and filled the chamber with echoes of darkness and hate, almost bringing the six party members to their knees, the desire to cover their eyes and ears almost overwhelming. "HAHAHAHA! A GREAT JOKE HAS BEEN PLAYED UPON YOU, DAUGHTER-DARKLING! THE EGGS YOU HOLD ARE ALSO FALSE."

"What? No, it's-" Phaere cried out, but was interrupted by a jet of flame from the demon's claw that scorched the false globe she held, burning it to syrupy liquid as well, melting her hand along with it. She clutched her mangled limb and turned to the others with betrayed anguish on her face. "What have you done to me!"

"THE BHAAL-CHILD HAS MURDERED YOU, DAUGHTER-DARKLING. MOST AMUSING, IT IS. HAHAHAHA! COME, NOW, AND BE MURDERED."

"B-Bhaal-child!" Phaere said in horrified shock.

Imoen shrugged, tossing her hair from her face. "Yeah. It's a gift. Or a curse, really."

Phaere's look of fear and anguish turned to hatred and she screamed in fury even as the demon raised its sword again, "NO! I will destroy you all! I will find you and eat your beating heart! I will-"

Phaere stopped as she whirled around to see the demon's sword beginning its downswing. As she screamed, Imoen smirked and taunted, "Hah! You'll do nothing but die, and by the way… Solaufein says hello."

Blood splattered across the floor, sizzling upon the heated stone. The demon lord turned to the group of adventurers, watching the demon in silence. It was more powerful than any creature they had encountered before, and if it decided to attack, there was little chance they would survive. The demon waited for somebody to speak, but as the only sound in the room was the echo from the crackling coals of the demon's body. It snorted once, stepping forward to lean down at them. "NOW… IT SEEMS THERE ARE NO ACTUAL DRAGON EGGS TO BE HAD. A PITY. UNLESS THERE IS A BETTER OFFER, I SHALL DEPART."

They continued to remain silent, scarce looking at the demon before them. After a few more seconds that seemed an eternity, the demon laughed, quite amused at the whole affair. "SO BE IT. MORTALS ARE EVER FOOLS."

The demon faded away, leaving nothing but black smoke as the fires of the room died down once again, leaving it lit by the barest of candles. They wasted no time in searching the remains of Phaere and Ardulace, but immediately left the room, Imoen casting the Haste spell even as she ran. A few priestesses and other drow guards looked at them in surprise as they exited the temple, but by that time the spell had kicked in, they were but blurs to most observers. Their footsteps thudded into the ground as their hearts thudded fast as well, knowing that at any moment, they could be revealed. They passed the Female Fighter's Society building, Imoen glancing around, noting that she had been right. It was nearly two and a half minutes since they left. It could not be much longer. They ran as fast as they could without falling over, every step taking them closer to freedom. Another minute passed. Surely they were living on borrowed time, now. Suddenly, the gates came in view, the wards lowered to let them out... but still closed tightly-?

A brief tingle ran through their bodies as they felt the magics Adalon had cast begin to fade, the dispelling magics of the priestesses working upon them- their bodies flared as they reached the shut iron gates, and just like that, they were exposed, their forms real and clear. Jaheira spat a curse, whipping around to put her back to the gates- a shout rose up from one of the vendors in the bazaar, and if the flare of light had not been enough to expose them, his cries had brought the fury of all in the area down upon them.

Veldrin looked down at his hands, watching them fade in and out... he remained drow, Adalon's magic over him holding. He breathed a sigh of relief- noting as swords and crossbows were unfurled in their direction, that in a matter of seconds, it would not make a difference under what pretense he died.

X X X X X X X

The drow gurgled once... twice... he jolted as the offending blade was slid out of his chest, his hands clutching the gaping wound as he slowly dropped to the ground, eyes rolling back into his head. Solaufein watched him falter for a moment, then opened the door that led to the overpass where the gate winch was located. K'yorl was behind him still, swallowing as he followed Solaufein out onto the overpass, both drow looking down upon the trapped surfacers, the drow forces of the city slowly but surely moving to slay them. Down below, a war cry bellowed out as the big ranger swung both axes, lodging them in the chest of an over-eager drow warrior, the price for his attack paid in full.

Solaufein did not waste any more time- he stepped over to the gate winch, bending down and gripping the wheel, reaming on it with all his strength- the gears turned and creaked, and like a beacon of salvation, the doors behind the party began to swing open. He kept pulling, grunting with the effort as sweat ran down his face- there. Enough for them to slip through. He stood and watched in satisfaction as they slid out, the drow moving to follow. It was his moment to rejoin them- he turned to look at K'yorl. The acolyte noticed and swallowed, unable to take his eyes off the bloodied sword Solaufein carried.

"Are you going to kill me now? Make sure I do not tell anyone of what you've done here?"

Solaufein did not speak for a second... he shook his head, sheathing his blade. "No. You have served me well... and I give you your life. Just remember... Lolth will not forgive you for what you've done here in this city. Eilistraee would forgive you for what you've done your whole life. Goodbye, K'yorl of House Quavein."

He clutched the spell stone he carried and as the dimension door behind him opened, he vanished from sight.

A crossbow bolt slipped past Imoen's head as she ran, the sound of drow behind her pursuing as they were chased from the gates of Ust Natha, hordes of drow pouring from the city to pursue the surfacers who had infiltrated their ranks. Imoen notched another arrow, spinning as she ran and loosing the bolt. It struck a pursuing drow between the eyes and she turned again, returning to her run. Drow magics flew towards them, fireballs and lightning striking far too close to them as they moved. Keldorn hunched down as splinters of rock and fire washed over him, the paladin too close to an exploding boulder. Before him, he saw a Cloudkill explode, the poisonous gases and fumes spreading before their path, blocking them from continuing. Aerie moved to the front, as close as she dared to dispel it with her magics, but it would take time- time they did not have.

A drow priest screamed the name of Lolth as he rushed upon them, mace raised high- a flash of light and the bulk of a warrior appeared between them, Solaufein transporting in at the last possible moment. Jaheira held her spear back as the drow was cut down, Solaufein pulling out his sword and turning to the others with a nod of acknowledgment. "You're late." Imoen shot him a grin as the drow brought his sword to guard, watching the onrush of soldiers that moved ever closer.

Jaheira stepped forward, the butt of her spear slamming into the side of a drow warrior, enough to knock his attack off course. "Aerie!" Are we clear?"

"Almost!" Aerie shouted back, returning to her work, muttering chants and pleas to the divine as she tried to dispel the Cloudkill- the sound of a mighty roar filled the caverns, shaking the ground beneath their feet and booming through the cavern.

"No more! My champions have recovered what was stolen from me- now feel the wrath of Adalon rising!" the voice of the silver dragon was filled with righteous fury- an anger that spelled death for every drow present. Her wings boomed with each flap as she flew to their aide, halting as she was suspended above the seven escapees, her jaws opened wide. White flame and electricity crackled at her maw and in a massive burst, swept through the ranks of their pursuers. When the field cleared and the smoke died, none were left. "Quickly! To my lair! I shall follow when I have had my vengeance to the fullest!"

They did not stop to thank the dragon, or congratulate themselves, but instead kept running, running until they could move no further, halting just outside of visual range of the city. They were out of breath, panting to regain energy as they glanced back, waiting for the expected sound of war horns, a hunting party sent after them. None came. It was silent but for their heavy breathing. Finally, it came to their minds all at once, just what they had finally accomplished. They had done it. For all the treachery, lies, deceit and danger, they had made it out, walking into the very jaws of a drow city, destroying the foremost House, outsmarting a Matron Mother and her daughter, even facing a demon of utmost power… and returning alive. Laughter finally broke the silence, relief at victory, relief at escaping the city… relief at living. They embraced each other as a group, Imoen and Keldorn and Jaheira and Minsc and Aerie. Veldrin and Solaufein stood to the side, not truly a part of them... but it was Veldrin who spoke, finally. He took them by surprise, placing one hand on Imoen's shoulder, speaking with a gentleness in his voice they had never heard before, "Come, my friends. The silver one awaits us."

The mere idea that he called them friends was enough to shock them back to reality, and they did follow Veldrin, ascending the dark stairway through the gem Goldander Blackenrock had gave them. It pierced the darkness and granted them passage, leading to the home of their benefactor. Aerie turned to the drow beside her, Solaufein walking in step. Still, his body was as tense as ever, if not more so. "Thank you."

He turned to her with a raised eyebrow, unsure of what she meant- "For coming to help us. You didn't have to... what you did for us before was more than enough already."

"I do not turn from a fight, nor from those who need my aid in battle... but if it makes you feel better to thank me, then you are welcome." he replied, choosing his words carefully. "I... I am not used to being in the company of those who show gratitude... even appreciation. It is... unusual."

"If you intend to travel with us for any time, you'll have to get used to it." Aerie smiled lightly. "I... I must confess, I was unsure of whether I truly wanted you to come with us, when Imoen invited you. I suppose I did not believe that a drow... well..."

"Say no more." he nodded, brushing his white hair away. "We are a cruel race... more so to the other elves than anyone else. You had every right to be suspicious of me. You still do. I make a confession of my own- I do not want to meet this dragon, this beast of power. She is fickle, and a drow in her sight after her eggs were so nearly sacrificed by them... my life is forfeit in her eyes."

"Then she'll just have to forfeit all our lives." Aerie replied stubbornly. "You did as much to save her young as we... she will understand."

"I... thank you." he said, speaking slowly. Solaufein inhaled sharply, then straightened his posture, saying no more. Aerie let her gaze linger over him for a moment in what might be slight curiosity... she turned away, back to the chamber of Adalon, finally reached.

Even as they moved through the massive lair, the dragon and inhabitant nowhere to be seen, it was an uncannily familiar scene to when they had first arrived. The dragon descended from the passageways above, slowly settling to the ground. She took two mammoth steps forward, rearing up her on her hind legs as she bent over, her long neck bringing the frilled head close to Jaheira, reptilian eyes blinking once, the jaws drawing back in a smile. "You have returned, and I sense my beautiful eggs on your person! Give them to me, for you have earned everything I promised and more."

Jaheira took the globe containing Adalon's eggs from her robes, then knelt as she offered it up. Adalon bent down and with both claws took up the globe, staring into it lovingly. Adalon turned and stalked back to her bedding with it, placing them gently among the rocks and nest. She turned back to the seven, looking each of them over... her gaze rested upon Solaufein, and her eyes narrowed. "So... despite all that has happened, you bring a drow with you. To my very doorstep. I need not say that I disapprove... were the situation not so favorable I might kill him right here and now."

"You would try, wyrm." Solaufein said calmly, his hands at his side, no hint of any aggression on his part. "Perhaps I would not be the easy prey you hope for."

Adalon regarded him for a moment, and the others wondered if her pride would demand a fight to prove the warrior wrong... she tossed her head back, the dragon apparently content to let it sit. "Very well then. You are alive because these men and women trust you- that is all."

"He is worthy of our trust as well as yours." Keldorn offered. "He was instrumental in saving your eggs, m'lady. We might not have done it without his help."

Adalon was not expecting this- she cocked her head to the side, then turned back to the drow, still quiet, saying nothing. "Truly? And why did your friend not mention this? Would it not have saved his life from my suspicions?"

"You would look at me in the light of the drow no matter what I claimed." Solaufein shook his head. "To speak of my own accomplishments would mean nothing."

The shield dragon listened, then straightened up, nodding to him in respect. "As you say. The scales are balanced between us. And as for the others... there is still the matter of your reward to attend to, yes? I promised you the way out, did I not?"

"Yes." Imoen replied with a grin, "And I for one cannot wait."

"I understand more than you know." Adalon replied, raising one claw. "I have one final thing to offer you before we leave... Veldrin. My servant."

"Yes, my lady?" Veldrin said, stepping forward, unable to hide a look of excited expectancy on his face.

"You have served me well, and done what I commanded of you. I hold your oath fulfilled. You are released from the Geas you swore." Adalon said gently.

Veldrin said nothing, but knelt down and bowed. His shoulders seemed to straighten, as though a heavy burden was no longer upon him. He stood and smiled broadly, then turned to the others. "We... appreciate the offer." Jaheira said slowly, nodding to Adalon. "But it might be best if he did not travel with us. Bringing one drow to the surface might cause problems, but to have two accompany us... the elves on the surface might not prove welcoming."

"There are others in Ust Natha like me." Solaufein offered slowly, quietly. "I am sure of it. Should you wish to find them, I would not be opposed to helping you before I make my own way to the surface."

"It won't be necessary, Solaufein." Veldrin shook his head. "All of you... you desire answers, and they have been well earned. Still, make no mistake when I say that my destiny lies in the company of you and your own."

"I should think not, Veldrin." Jaheira said with a forced smile. "Do you believe us so lenient and patient to put up with you for who knows how long!"

"Ah. I suppose I should have expected such a reaction." Veldrin said knowingly. "My lady Adalon, if you would grant me the time to explain myself, I would be in your debt once again."

Adalon nodded, and so Veldrin turned back to them and continued, "I promised you an explanation for my… odd… actions when we got here, and so we are now. I will explain, and I think you might change your mind when I finish. First, I must offer my apologies. In the city, I said- and did things that I still regret. Things that were necessary to complete our task... if not my desire. I would plead your forgiveness, if you would but lend it."

Keldorn frowned, then spoke, "For your actions, I can extend the hand of forgiveness, yes. But I still refuse your passage amidst us. Not as things stand now."

"Then it is a good thing that things are about to change. A great many things..." Veldrin chuckled, taking a step back. "How you see me... who I am."

Any small bit of trust he had garnered amongst them was rapidly disappearing- Minsc stepped forward, poking him in the chest. "Boo says you are not who you say you are."

"What do you want, Veldrin!" Jaheira demanded, her spear almost lowering to attack position. "Speak, I demand it!"

"Really?" he laughed, taking a step back. "I had no doubt it would be you. I just wondered when it would come to this, Jaheira. You were always the detective."

"No more games." Keldorn said, his voice hard as steel. "Who are you?"

"Who am I?" Veldrin shrugged. "I've been called a lot of things... perhaps the name Galmarath will sound familiar?"

It took them a half-second to place the name... Imoen, Aerie, and Keldorn all froze, their faces glowing with disbelief. "For those of you who don't know that one, I will relate the latest title bestowed upon me. 'Bhaalspawn'."

"The demon wasn't talking about me… he was talking about you." Imoen said, barely contained hope on her face.

"You… you lie!" Jaheira shouted, her eyes filled with hurt and fury, clutching her spear tighter as she pointed at him.

Adalon roared, her spellcraft weaving itself in a matter of seconds. With that, the magic of the dragon was undone. The group covered their eyes, trying to squint into the light that blazed from Veldrin's presence. Jaheira pushed forward, Keldorn by her side as well. The cover of light began to fade, showing the man before them once again, though he was no longer Veldrin of Ched Nasad. This man was different, pale-skinned. His ears maintained a slight point, his elven lineage revealed. His face was smooth, and the brown hair he kept flowed down to near shoulder length. It was colored by a long silver streak running through it, bright as the scales on Adalon's body. His robes were no longer dark and black, as all the drow wore, but were a gray, the same color he had worn when they had seen this man last. He gleamed with both power and magic, beauty and life. He held his quarterstaff with both hands, and his smile bore the delight of one whose life has been snatched from the brink of destruction.

"Perhaps you recognize me now?" the sorcerer before them asked quietly.

Jaheira stumbled back, her eyes never leaving the face before her, the smile of old, of great warmth this time of all times. "It… it is not possible-"

"Surely you know by now that many things which seem impossible in this world can be overcome." Greywulf said gently. "They just take... time."


	74. Part 3: Three Weeks Ago

**Three Weeks Ago.**

Sunlight... the feel of the rays of golden warmth raining down upon the face of the earth on any given day. Or perhaps something different- the feel of crisp raindrops pelting and showering over everything in sight, drenching the countryside within the indiscriminating downpour. Or snow- that wondrous pleasure, found on the highest of peaks or in the coldest of winters. The blanket of gleaming white that covered everything in sight, perfect in pristine and unblemished beauty. That was probably her favorite... reminiscent of her former home. The cloud covered peaks, the snow capped mountains where she would soar amongst the birds and through the heavens...

A drip of water, echoing through the cavern just like the ripple that was spreading through the pool of water it had landed in, marred her brief session of self-indulgence... dragged her back to the present. Back to the misery and the torture she had subjected herself to... all for the sake of duty. That was not the death of her joy, nor the bringer of darkness into her world... the task she had been instructed to complete and fulfill was her honor. Little had she known, Adalon the Silver, the shield dragon, where her benevolence and willingness to obey would lead.

Here. Alone, trapped in the dark among enemies and wretches and monsters. Loathe to move from her miserable excuse for a lair, for fear of retribution. Somewhere, somehow, it all had gone wrong. The dragon looked up, her glassy silver eyes glimmering as she stared into the ceiling, remembering her past... remembering her love...

_"THE WARS OF MY CHILDREN MUST NOT BE ALLOWED TO CONTINUE." the great avatar of wood and leaf shone with great glory and light as wind-swept leaves whirled and twisted around it's massive body, covered in moss and vine and root. The glowing yellow eyes underneath the shambling mound of godly power struck deep into the reptilian gaze of the two dragons before it. Even though they were bigger, taller than this god in earthly form, there was no mistaking who held the power... and the authority._

_Both dragons bowed their long heads low, stretching their necks to show fealty to the deity. "As you say, Coronal of Arvandor. What would you have us do?" the male of the pair spoke, his deep voice showing genuine curiosity mingled with eagerness to serve- his reptilian eyes opened as he looked up to the First of the Seldarine, the god Corellon Larethian himself._

_"THERE ARE THOSE OF MY CHILDREN WHO HAVE REBELLED- THOSE WHO HAVE GIVEN UP THE GIFTS AND BLESSINGS I BESTOWED IN EXCHANGE FOR THE COLD, DARKNESS OF SHE WHO WAS ONCE ARAUSHNEE, SHE WHO IS NOW AND FOREVER THE ACCURSED LOLTH."_

_"We know of this rebellion- it is the war of the elves that has brought us to your service." Adalon replied. "My life-mate Onollade and I are at your service."_

_"THEN YOUR SERVICE I SHALL RETAIN." the Avatar seemed to grow in power, were it even possible. It lifted an arm of crumbling dirt and rock and moss, even as the very land beneath its feet began to tremble, splitting open and revealing a chasm that stretched beneath the earth, descending further and further into the darkness below. The two dragons backed away, glancing between themselves at this development... any kind of subterranean excursion was particularly unwelcome for the high-dwelling shield dragons, but they were honor bound to serve this god. Whatever he deemed necessary, it would be their duty to fulfill his command. "THE ELVES WHO ESCAPED MY LOYAL CHILDREN FLED UNDERGROUND... FLED TO WHERE THEIR HATRED AND BITTERNESS CAN FESTER AND ROT THEM ON THE OUTSIDE AS IT HAS DONE TO THEIR SPIRITS. THE GIFT I GAVE THEM OF ELVEN LIFE WILL NOT BE DENIED EASILY... THEY WILL LIVE AS LONG AS MY TRUE CHILDREN. THEY WILL KEEP THEIR EVIL AND BITTER THOUGHTS WITHIN, AND WHEN LOLTH SEES HOW QUICKLY SHE CAN TURN THEIR ANGER TO HER OWN ENDS, SHE WILL TAKE VENGEANCE UPON THE ELVES ABOVE. THIS, I CANNOT ALLOW."_

_"You would have us protect the elves? Side with them should the drow return?" Onollade let his teeth show, the fringe upon his head rustling as he arched his neck back and forth. "It shall be centuries tenfold before they spread among the surface again under our watch."_

_"NO... THE DROW MUST NOT EVEN GATHER THE SLIGHTEST FOOTHOLD UPON THE SURFACE OF THIS EARTH. I HAVE SPOKEN WITH THE OTHERS... RILLIFANE, SEHANINE, HELM AND LATHANDER... YES, EVEN BAHAMUT. WE HAVE AGREED ON THE COURSE OF ACTION THAT YOU BOTH MUST TAKE TO QUENCH THIS THREAT." Larethian's avatar rumbled, small chunks of dirt sliding off it. "YOU AND YOUR LIFEMATE SHALL DESCEND INTO THE EARTH. FIND THE PASSAGE TO THE SURFACE, AND GUARD IT WELL. MY CHILDREN ABOVE WILL BE EAGER FOR VENGEANCE, TRY AS I MIGHT TO CALM THEIR UNSETTLED SPIRITS. THE DARK ONES BELOW WILL CRY OUT FOR REVENGE, AND WHEN THEIR STRENGTH HAS RETURNED, WILL TRY AND CLAIM IT. YOU TWO SHALL BE THE INSTRUMENTS OF MY HAND. YOU WILL KEEP A PEACE, UNEASY AS IT MAY BE, AND ENSURE THE TWO RACES NEVER UNITE IN WAR AS HAS TAKEN PLACE HERE. THAT IS MY WORD, AND THAT IS MY COMMAND."_

_The two dragons could brook no argument, nor could they do anything less than obey... Adalon raised her head in obedience. "As you would have it. We shall do as you have commanded, until our dying day."_

Her last words to the elven god rung in her mind- rung harshly, slowly... prophetically. The silver dragon's face turned dark, a scary sight for any dragon to show, but even more so for the usually gentle drakes of the air. Adalon's wings blustered up, spreading as though readying to take flight and release the anger she felt rising within her... no. It would do no good... and could only harm. Especially if the drow saw her rising from her lair, they might become... alarmed.

She forced herself to calm, her wings slowly tucking back in to her side as she rested a bit, coming down to the ground as she fell back into memory... back into the nightmare world of the past. Back to where she had been given a second chance at life... never knowing how easily it would be wrenched from her in the future.

_The dragon roared, lightning and white flame licking the ceiling of the cavern as she bellowed, her cries piercing and echoing through the depths of the Underdark. No doubt the denizens of Ust Natha could hear her... maybe even the illithid or the eye tyrants in their cities. But it was not they to whom Adalon cried out... not to them that she vented her frustration, her anger, her despair. She reared back onto her haunches, loosing another blast of her dragon's breath into the walls and stone that composed their- her lair. Tears would have fallen from her eyes were she willing to let it be so... no. She would not be so weak- she demanded justice. Payment for the crime committed upon her-_

_The blast of power that would have tore and ripped through the rock walls was warped and stopped in time, slowly dissipating as a vortex of light opened where she had blindly struck. From within the swirling portal, a feminine figure stepped forth, cloaked in what seemed to be moonlight itself- a swirling darkness covered with stardust and the glimmers of the stars above with the moon's very depth peeking out from here and there and nowhere at all. Her hair was like the lining of the clouds during a full moon- her face and skin was as pale as the elves of the surface, but she veritably glowed with power. Adalon's rampage of anguish and anger slowed as she narrowed her eyes, taking in her visitor. The Daughter of the Night Skies- wife to Corellon Larethian himself- Sehanine Moonbow._

_"Peace, noble silver. It shames you to show such disregard and wrath." she said, her voice echoing through the chamber, the luminous skin of the goddess almost translucent as she stepped before the dragon, unafraid of the barely suppressed fury smoldering in her eyes._

_"Peace?! How can I feel peace! The murderous drow- the cursed dark ones have slaughtered Onollade! Killed him and tore my life-mate's heart from his chest for their blasphemous rituals! And I was unable to do a thing to stop it- not one thing!" Adalon cried out, rearing her head back again as her howls of rage echoed once more._

_Moonbow reached out, touching the scales of the dragon before her- Adalon stiffening as the divine touch flooded her with a sense of peace- a sense she did not want. She wanted to remain angry, to hold onto her grief and bitterness- she lurched away from the goddess, her tail swishing through the form of the goddess, passing through her ethereal form as she desired. "Do not try to calm me or justify his death." she growled. "A part of me has died with him, and for what? To guard this truce that shall never remain unbroken? Through the last three hundred years Onollade and I have watched and protected these caverns, and to know that he is lost forever- it is like death! How could you understand?! Bahamut has abandoned me, as have you and Larethian."_

_"Adalon... you know that is not so." Sehanine spoke gently, her figure abruptly appearing before Adalon, floating at eye level so the dragon could not at least enjoy the pleasure of looking down upon her tormentor. "And Bahamut still hears your pleas and your prayers... I have spoken with the Lord of the North Wind... and he has agreed that you have earned a boon- a gift for the service you have granted us."_

_"Gift? What possible gift could you offer me to make up for what has been stripped away?" Adalon laughed bitterly, snarling and snorting as she fixed Sehanine in the eyes. "My mate's heart was torn from his chest to summon a Balor of enormous power... tell me, Lady of Dreams... what dream shall take that memory from my waking and sleeping thoughts?"_

_The goddess regarded the dragon for a moment- she suddenly grew to encompass the whole cavern, her cloak swirling to envelop everything, including the dragon herself. "Tread carefully, Adalon the silver. You have been faithful, but remember to whom you speak."_

_Adalon's blood chilled for a moment as she heard a hint of irritation creep into the goddess' voice, but it was gone in a moment as the darkness faded and the lair came into view again. "You know what was summoned at the cost of your mate- the Balor. It was no ordinary demon of the Hells- it was a terror of the Ancient World. Older than you- more powerful than many could ever imagine. Its power was on par with that of the Demogorgon himself, when he was young, at least. He has been caged deep beneath the earth nearby- away from the city, to where the drow can no longer summon him from their rituals. There he will sleep- kept from wreaking havoc on the realms and unable to roam in the Abyss."_

_"Until he is released by some other fool." Adalon said with a frown. "Evil such as this cannot be simply hidden away and be expected to vanish."_

_"Perhaps... but that was the decree and the decision made by the Seldarine." Sehanine confirmed. "And as for you... you have served well. I know of your desire to leave this place... your longing to see the free air, the sky and the mountains peaks again. I offer you a choice, for the passage to the surface must always be guarded."_

_"And what choice is this?" Adalon asked. "What could possibly incite me to stay here any longer if given the chance to leave?"_

_"Duty? No... I see that your time in the dark has dulled the sense of honor fulfillment you once carried. It is why my husband sent me in his stead." Sehanine whispered. "No, I offer you something quite different. You may leave, and be free of this duty forever... or you may stay and be granted the desire of your heart."_

_The goddess raised her hands, and with the divine power she commanded, summoned forth rock from the very earth, whirling and collecting in her hands as the power of the elven gods joined with the stone and formed several ovals, solid and sturdy, slate gray as they floated above her. She saw Adalon's confusion and smiled. "These simple stones will become eggs- young, yours to rear and raise."_

_"Children?" Adalon froze- she and Onollade had never bore young in this place- it had been far too dangerous. She had considered it a lost cause until now... "How-"_

_"Will it happen?" The goddess smiled. "When you have served the full term of your bargain, when your years are gone and you have grown old, these eggs will be made real by the spirit of your lost love- kept by Bahamut himself. You and your young will be free to leave this place and live the rest of your years in the skies above... and a new guardian will be chosen."_

_Adalon did not reply immediately... she stared at the goddess, trying to discern some kind of trickery, some kind of guilt in the face of the divine woman, but there was nothing to be had. She gave the offer- and it was up to Adalon to make the decision. Children. An opportunity to bring her husband back, if only in name and through the young she would raise. Adalon looked at Sehanine Moonbow and bowed her head. "I accept, goddess. I shall continue my duties as Adalon the Silver, guardian of old."_

And so she had condemned herself to another hundred score of years in the pit of the Underdark, her only consolation in the future she knew would be hers in the end. And on the day when she was given her wish, it was the most beautiful of her life... the feel of the delicate eggs as she nestled them in her bedding and watched over them with every ounce of caution she could muster... perhaps it had been her most vigilant guardianship since the beginning when she had served out of simple honor and duty.

But it had not lasted... the vampire had stolen in, taken her eggs- somehow she knew. One of the other gods... Lolth undoubtedly... discovered the bargain she had made with the Seldarine and told the drow. They had told their new allies... and in a single moment of weakness, her entire world had come crashing down. A vision of the great beast crashing through the iron gates of Ust Natha, putting the whole city to the torch and decimating all who lived within flitted through Adalon's mind... vengeance for the pain she'd suffered on their account.

No. She calmed, exhaling and inhaling in sequence as the magic that had begun crackling around her jaws slowly faded, a sign of the barely suppressed fury. Her eggs would remain safe so long as she stayed within her cavern... and would be summarily destroyed should she try to interfere with the war about to be waged on the surface elves. Her eyes narrowed... her love for the surfacers had diminished over the years, but being forced to neglect her duty after so many years was abhorrent. She needed aid... some kind of ally. Some sort of way to reclaim her eggs so that her duty might be made clear once more.

Then... just like Io, elder god of her kind had heard her prayer and responded- she felt it. The whole cavern shook, and the walls trembled at the unleashing of power. She stretched out with her magic, and it took her less than a second to realize who- what, had been unleashed. The Balor. Imprisoned for so long, freed once again. She snarled, roaring in fury. The cause of her husband's death- she cursed the svirfneblin and their digging. Had she known where their greed would take them, she would have done something before it was too late, but as it was, she'd only been able to craft a Stoneshape Scroll for them in hopes that they could undo the mistake they were making. It had obviously failed... and now the demon would be loosed upon the earth once more.

Adalon's claw tightened as she felt the power of the demon increase, begin to dwarf the whole area- there was no way in hell she would let the demon escape. The drow would not give up their bargaining chip so easily... and her mate had yet to be avenged. Adalon raised both claws, murmuring the words of her dragon tongue, letting the silver magic she possessed flow through her... her form shifted and transformed to that of an elven female, silver haired and beautiful. Her robes brushed the ground as did her hair- her eyes flashed as she opened a portal in the air, preparing to step through- her whole body jolted as she felt... another. Power- god like power, the same divine strength she had felt in the presence of both Corellon Larethian and Sehanine Moonbow... but this was different. Darker. Like that of a dark god unleashed- no.

Something was wrong... unbalanced. Light, in the midst of the darkness. A spirit of good encapsulated by the demonic force she felt. Something was happening that was beyond her ken to understand... and she had no choice but to follow. She stepped through the portal with only a hint of hesitation...

**"Get… hurmmm…Get out!" **the Slayer screeched, only the faintest hint of humanity remaining in the voice. With that, it launched itself forward into the embrace of the Balor. The Slayer slammed the Balor into the wall cavern, right before the Balor whirled around to slam the Slayer into the wall instead, goring the Slayer in the shoulder with one of the horns encircling it's face. As the two beasts fought, the five mortals found it easy to slip past, leaping through the small passage that had once been a wide opening. They watched from outside, the battle raging between the two demonic figures- even as Adalon herself slipped through their ranks unseen, invisible to human sight by the magics she summoned. She watched with anticipation as the Slayer screamed, a mighty fist pounding into its stomach, while the claws of the Slayer's four arms raked down the Balor's back, further opening the initial wound Keldorn had put there.

She knew what stood before her... the avatar of the human god of Murder. Bhaal. A Bhaalspawn, tapping his full potential and becoming the ultimate expression of murder. Adalon's eyes narrowed as she watched the Balor stumble back, giving the Slayer an opportunity to pummel it mercilessly, fists and blasts of power slamming repeatedly into the demon's body and head. It appeared to be just as great a threat to the world as the Balor... Adalon considered stepping away and letting the two demons kill each other. It would most likely be for the best- dazed by the constant barrage of punishment, the Balor snarled a word in its monstrous tongue, igniting a spell of fire, throwing the Slayer back, though the beast remained mostly unharmed by the elemental attack. The Balor took the opportunity to launch itself forward, landing atop the downed Slayer, slamming it's head into the hard cavern floor again and again, the Slayer's arms flailing as it attempted to pry the larger demon off it, finally succeeding, though blood covered the Slayer's face when it finally stood again.

The Slayer gurgled once, black spit spewing to the ground- it feinted left and then went right, bringing its jaws to bite deep into the shoulder of the Balor, tearing a chunk of fur and flesh out. The Balor thrust one fist out to clutch the Slayer's head, lifting it up, its spined legs whipping this way and that, seeking solid purchase. The sound of fists slamming into scale and flesh again and again made the onlookers recoil in horror at the realization... the Slayer was not winning. It was not the powerhouse of undefeatable might it had been both times they had seen it before. Granted, it had never been against a foe of this power, but still- Imoen lurched forward but was held back by Minsc when the Slayer was thrown across the room, slamming into the cavern wall. "What's going on?!" she shouted, sweat and tears mixing on her face as she turned to Keldorn, transfixed by the battle. "He's... he's losing!"

The sound of Imoen's words caught Adalon as she had just prepared to leave the fight to those whom it involved... the human was right. The Slayer should have had little difficulty in destroying this creature. It was still weak from hibernation... the power of Bhaal dwarfed anything this demon could offer. And yet... it was not unleashing the full fury it could muster. Why?

It staggered forward, all four arms stretching, trying to entangle the throat and neck of the Balor, snaring it to throttle the life from it- the Balor flapped it's wings, bringing the Slayer up with him, higher and higher in the cavern- it stopped and aimed itself downward headfirst, bringing the Slayer in a nosedive to the ground. Rock fell from the room as the Balor emerged from the dirt and dust... holding the Slayer over its head. The Slayer's arms still beat and scratched at the Balor, but they were slower, weaker than ever before. The Balor howled, then slammed the Slayer down, upon a giant boulder, the sound of bones crunching echoing with the impact.

Adalon's eyes narrowed in realization as she listened to the words of the paladin. "He's not losing... he hasn't given it control. Not all of it. He's holding it back... not allowing it to unleash its full potential."

"But why?!" Imoen cried out. "He'll die!!"

"And... and he knows that." Keldorn swallowed, his mouth suddenly dry. "He's made one more sacrifice... the ultimate one."

Adalon saw, for the first time, the answer to her question. A creature of this much power... indwelt with a spirit that could be called to make this kind of selfless act. An agent she could use to do the impossible. Someone she could use... someone who might just stand a chance of surviving the hell her mission would put them through. But he had to survive first... if he died here, it would all be for nothing. Adalon watched as the Stoneshape scroll she had constructed took further effect, closing rapidly to entomb the Slayer and the Balor... her eyes lit up in approval as the Balor's desperate attempt at escape was cut off, the Bhaalspawn on his feet once more. The wounds it had taken were still grievous, but it somehow pushed onward, striking again and again, forcing the Balor to feel all the wounds it had taken as well. The pair struck each other again and again, their evil ripping the cavern apart as it collapsed around them-

The wards-! Adalon remembered the bounds she had placed upon her scroll, then backed away from the midst of the surfacers, giving herself room to cast the arcane powers she needed- with a flash she was gone, reappearing inside the cavern itself, even as it collapsed and crumbled around her. She slipped through the hail of boulders and stone that rained from the ceiling, turning a corner inside the entombed cave to see a crack of lightning split across the rock as it sealed at long last, the magic finally at completion. Across the cavern, slowly being covered by stone and rock was the dead carcass of the Balor. She had no time to take satisfaction in the death of the creature- time was of the essence. There, lying on the ground, no longer a monstrous demon or an avatar of Bhaal, lay a broken and bloody half-elf, his gray robes in tatters and covered in blood and dust. He was barely alive, his left arm was broken, shards of bone protruding from the lower arm. She strode to his side, leaning over and picking up his unconscious body effortlessly as the cave continued to collect rock and dirt, filling up to the brim- the wards were of no use against her, the crafter of the scroll. With another set of incantations, she disappeared, carrying Greywulf with her.

X X X X X X X

Slowly... gently... his eyes began to flutter open, the hazy vision of one whose sight has just been restored after a time of blindness or a lengthy sleep plagued him for those few moments of confusion- he should be dead. That was the first coherent thought he put together. Everything he felt or remembered agreed with that. His last sight, a final good-bye to those he loved and cared about... and then darkness had taken him. Was this the end? The place where the essence of his father collected, the same fate and location where Sarevok and his other deceased kindred had ended up?

His second coherent thought was a resounding 'no.' It looked far too similar to the caverns and paths he had been in before- the Underdark, that was it. But if he was still in the Underdark, that meant one of two things. Either the Underdark was hell- and it very well seemed to be at times- or he wasn't dead. That, of course, begged the question to be asked. He sat up... and immediately regretted it. Pain shook his whole body and he fell back down, fighting the urge to vomit as his vision blurred again and his whole body spasmed with agony.

"You're not healed yet... I've merely brought you out of danger. Do not move or you will experience more of the same." the voice he heard was strong, feminine... but unfamiliar. He worked his eyes open once more, finding a silver-haired beauty kneeling over him, apparently laid out upon a flat stone, wherever he was. He tried to ask the question, to open his mouth, but his lips and tongue were too dry- it felt like a desert in his mouth. She glared at him, and it was enough to make him reconsider speaking as well. "You are in the lair of Adalon. I rescued you from the cavern before it could claim your life... and you will repay the favor. For now, that is all you need to know. Rest, my champion... you shall soon need it."

Greywulf tried to speak again... he could not. He lapsed into unconsciousness again, leaving Adalon to her work. And so it went, for the next twenty-four hours. Healing. Restoration. Brief glimpses of waking moments, soon lost in the bliss of the spells Adalon lay upon him. Each time he felt better, each time restored to some measure of health... never enough to be completely well, but close. In a full day, Adalon had brought him from the brink of death to his previous capacity... back to fighting form, to a form that could possibly challenge her. Battle her, if she did not ensure his loyalty to her cause.

Adalon's eyes narrowed as she stood above the sleeping form of the sorcerer. There was but one way to ensure that he would never betray her... a Geas of loyalty. Persuading him to swear such a thing, however, would be of the utmost difficulty. Still, she had little choice. The dragon waved her hands, raising him from his slumber. He awoke with the magics, his body unwilling to rest any longer. Finally, he got a look at his benefactor, her eyes never leaving him.

He stood from the flat stone he had been laid upon- he swallowed once, taking a step forward. "Adalon... you said your name was Adalon."

"I am surprised you remember that much. You have been healed and kept in sleep for the last day." she said analytically. "Tell me... what else do you remember?"

"Very little... just flashes of light... bits of memory that make little sense. But I remember that you healed me. I don't know how or why... but I am grateful." Greywulf bowed. "I am in your debt, my lady... and I will repay it."

"Yes... yes, you will." Adalon smiled- her human form vanished in an explosion of light and magic, Greywulf's robes flapping in the outrush of magic as he raised his arms to protect himself, squinting into the light- his breath caught as he beheld her true form, the full majesty of her draconic brilliance. "I am Adalon the silver, the guardian of old. And you will be my champion."

"Adalon..." Greywulf's memory flashed- the name of the guardian that the svirfneblin had told them of. "We were seeking you before... that's why we fought the Balor! Blackenrock told us he would provide an entrance to your lair should we destroy the Balor-"

"Which you did quite handily." Adalon boomed. "I saw your fight... saw what you became. A Bhaalspawn... one whose power dwarfed even that of the ancient beast. You said that you were in my debt... I require a task of you in payment for saving your life."

"Aye... I will do what you ask." Greywulf nodded, trying to keep his wits, even in the midst of such a beast of power and light. "My friends-"

"Will find their way here soon enough, if Goldander truly delivers what he promised." Adalon cut him off. "You will not be here when they arrive... they must not know you still live."

"What?" Greywulf was taken aback at her statement, so matter-of-factly worded. "But I have to tell them! You can't-"

"I can, and I shall." Adalon growled. "I do not think you quite understand the situation... I will brook no failure, nor any deceptions. I do not know you... I do not know your allies. Can I trust you? Can I trust them? Have you come to betray me, as I have been betrayed in the past? I will not see it happen again. You will not see them, and they shall not see you- not until I have made my judgment on their intentions. On your intentions. I saw their loyalty to you inside that cavern... if they knew you were here, at my side... they might do anything to rescue you, including challenging me. I will not allow it."

For the first time, Greywulf realized just how dire a position he was in... and how much he was at the mercy of the silver dragon before him. His options were few... and only one seemed particularly survivable. He nodded, taking a knee before the dragon... praying she would prove as benevolent as the rest of her kind. "Of course... what is it you require of me?"

X X X X X X X

**Present Day.**

There was silence... unmoving, unbearable quiet as he finished his tale. Finished his story of survival... his story of betrayal. Of deceit. Of how he and the dragon had led them all astray for three weeks... had kept them from knowing the truth. Greywulf stood before them, his eyes glassy, throat dry. "I had no choice- but all I ever wanted was to protect you. To keep you all safe."

"You lied to us. You lied to me... all this time." Imoen whispered, tears beginning to run from her eyes as she stepped toward him, slowly but surely.

Greywulf's mind jumped to the scene in the illithid city- Imoen screaming, her anger and hatred so palpable as she cursed him for his betrayal- he blinked tears away, his voice cracking as he met her halfway. "I... I never meant to hurt you. Never-"

She shut her eyes tightly and threw herself forward, wrapping her arms around him tightly, the two, brother and sister, reunited once more. She finally let him go, smiling weakly as the two locked eyes, the girl standing by his side once again... just as she had always done from the beginning. Aerie was next- she nodded slowly, fighting back her own tears. She came to his side, giving him a kiss on the cheek. Minsc followed her, his face stone hard, unflinching as he stood toe to toe with the sorcerer... Greywulf inhaled and met his gaze, neither backing down as they stared at each other in silence...

The edge of the large ranger's mouth twitched, curling upward for a split-second... it was too much. It blossomed into a grin, the ranger's face shining brightly with excitement, Greywulf laughing with relief as Minsc bent down and picked Greywulf up in a mammoth bear hug. "Haha! Minsc and Boo and you! Together once again- Wine! Song!"

"You've evaded death more times than I care to count... done things I never thought were possible." Keldorn remarked, flexing his gauntlet once as he walked to Greywulf's side. "You're afraid you've lost our trust. Our faith. I say... you've earned the chance to win it back. Welcome back."

Only one remained... only one whose words needed to be said, who needed to welcome him back to their fold, to forgive his breach of their confidence. He looked to her- but she would not- could not- look back. Jaheira would not meet his eyes, avoiding his gaze at all costs. "Jaheira? I..."

"Just like that?" she whispered, shaking her head in disbelief. "You return, and we are expected to forget? To forget everything that happened? To pretend that you were never gone, that... that we didn't grieve? Didn't believe you were dead..."

He broke from the others and walked to her side, reaching out with one hand- she stepped away, raising one hand in protest. "No... not now. You have returned, it would seem... and that is enough."

He waited for her to say more... but that was it. Bonds would have to be rebuilt- trust would have to be re-earned, as Keldorn said... but they were whole again. For the first time in three weeks, they were together. They had said their peace and he would get nothing more from them. Nothing more, and nothing less. For better or worse, he had returned... and it was time to move on. Greywulf looked up at Adalon, then at his companions. He met Solaufein's gaze, extending one hand. "Solaufein... welcome to the party."

He eyed the proffered hand, slowly returning the gesture in silence. Greywulf turned back to Adalon. "What about you? Surely you won't remain here after all that has taken place."

Adalon shook her head, eyes tinged with regret. "No... no, my time in the darkness is over. I have done my duty as well as I could- my years grow short and the debt I paid for my young has been fulfilled. I shall depart, and find someplace to raise my children in peace- someplace where they may see the grandeur of the wind-swept peaks and the snow-capped mountains."

"And the drow? Will you be punishing them further for their role in this?" Keldorn asked.

"No... My vengeance has been meted, but until I find a new lair above-ground, I shall be confined here. It will not be for much longer... but I will wait. I have learned patience in my time here." Adalon said with bowed head. "And as for the seven of you... I promised you an exit. An escape... and I shall deliver. Come- your time in the Underdark has ended. War has come to Suldenesselar... and the elves above us shall need your aid before this has all ended."

The dragon reared back and intoned words of great power- eight portals opened, sweeping all of them away, the Underdark- at long last and at great cost- finally behind them.


	75. Part 3: Whispers in the Dark

Imoen kicked the body of one of the numerous dead drow at her feet, making certain it was truly dead. Adalon had transported them to the doorway leading from the Underdark into the caverns of elder tunnels, crafted by elf and dwarf and slave in times long since past. They showed the signs of constant fighting and strain- scarred and jagged lines marred their edges while blackened rock showed hints of fires and explosions that had rocked the area over the years. Many drow had pushed through these passageways over the hundreds of years since their exile... many elves had died defending it.

Still, the path from here on was straightforward and if traveled far enough, would quickly lead to the temple on the surface. From there they could exit it and find themselves free again- there had been a guard posted by the forces of Ust Natha, though it was small and no match for the power of the seven fighters, especially not when combined with the magics that Adalon lent to their cause. The only injury suffered had been to Minsc- a crossbow bolt had struck him in the bicep, forcing a quick field dressing in place of the healing spells that would need to be performed later. Adalon surveyed the passage further, watching the fires of magic die out, revealing a clear path. The dragon turned to them, raising one hand to point with slender fingers to the final exit. "It is done- I can follow no further without endangering my eggs once again. Follow these doors and you will be free of the Underdark within the hour. I will remain for a while yet, should you desperately need my aid- as I said prior, a few deaths are in order, but I intend to find a new lair where I can raise my young in peace. I will seek one out, but it will take time. For all intents and purposes, I shall be where you found me before. Reinforcements from Ust Natha will not come by my route easily for this surface war."

"Then this is where we part ways." Greywulf replied. "Thank you for everything."

"It is I who should thank you- and before you leave, I thought it fitting to return some things that belonged to you." Adalon drew a large blade from seemingly nowhere- Minsc's eyes widened as she handed the Sword of Chaos to him, the blade gleaming with power and magic. Imoen and Aerie smiled in gratitude as she returned to them the vial and the portrait they had left at Greywulf's gravesite. To Greywulf she gave a long string, glowing with magic. It radiated with power, shocking him lightly as he touched it- she gave him a knowing smile as he gazed at the bow string. "You will no doubt find a better use for it on the surface than I in my hoard. Who knows… perhaps you might find its match."

Adalon took a step away from them, clasping her hands together. "You have all cheated death, whether you know it or not. Take joy in the life you have- in the loved ones by your side. They are gone too soon in this life- I know this more than many."

"Namaarie, Adalon." Aerie bowed, the dragon's mouth curling upward at her use of the elvish proper.

"Tenna' ento lye omenta." she responded, raising her hands as she disappeared into a portal of her own design.

She disappeared once more, leaving the group to their own path, finally on their way to light and freedom once again. Little was said as they walked, but there could be no mistaking the change. After Greywulf had been thought gone, there had been an aching hole, in both their hearts and in the group. His return was more than they could have asked for- he was different in appearance, his face clean-shaven and a slight line of silver running through his hair. He was inwardly different as well; his stride was more confident, more full and clear, and the tension that had struck their group before he left was gone completely. He had clearly been powerful before, but his body now seemed to radiate a barely contained magic; the look in his eyes still intense and bearing witness to many troubles, but there was no mistaking the gleam of cleverness either, as though carrying a secret of great humor yet never quite willing to tell anyone else.

There was no anger or strife to rear up to destroy them from the inside out. Unity graced them once more- for the moment. They encountered little resistance as they moved through the tunnels, most of the drow either pulled back to Ust Natha with news of the deaths there, or on the surface fighting. As they moved, Imoen said to Greywulf, "You know, you said some pretty nasty stuff back there, masquerading as 'Veldrin'."

"I did, didn't I?" Greywulf said, a wry smile on his face. "I didn't mean it, you know... even though I had some fun."

"Yeah, but you still couldn't hide it all." Imoen laughed. "Even through your nastiness… I could see you inside. You are good, Greywulf. Never forget that. I know I won't."

Greywulf nodded, his sister lagging behind again. He knew of what she spoke- his transformation to the Slayer against the demon. The doubts that had plagued them ever since he had done it the first time had been put to the test in the cavern. Despite his appearance, he had finally proved to them and himself that it was Greywulf in the Slayer's body, not the Slayer in Greywulf's body. He looked at each of his comrades as they walked, savoring each moment. He had thought himself lost as the cavern closed, and had resigned himself to having that final moment of viewing his friends. But renewed with them, he would not take their company for granted again. His gaze lingered for a moment over Jaheira, and he thought of her for a second. She and he had not said anything since Adalon's cave, and he supposed he shouldn't have been surprised. She had had the worst time concerning doubt in his quality- he had hoped she would be glad to see him again, but… he just didn't know. There was much to be talked about, and it remained to be seen what would- or could, really- be said between the two of them.

Solaufein frowned as the slope of the ground began to take more of an uphill slant- the ring of steel echoed as he unsheathed the greatsword he carried. Keldorn strode beside him, the Gauntlets he wore making the trek easier than it might have proven otherwise. He nodded towards the sword, "Expecting trouble?"

"I have lived here my whole life... seen and taken part in horrors you would not imagine. I do not expect trouble- I see it." Solaufein replied, his voice a dark whisper as the drow scanned the low-lit tunnels before them. A flicker of movement, Solaufein raising his blade in defense- a rat scurried out from one of the cracks at the base of the tunnels, sniffing once, before scurrying past them back towards the Underdark. Keldorn watched the rodent, then shook his head in relief, slowly relaxing the sudden grip he had put on the hilt of his own sword.

Solaufein was not so easily calmed- he knew what it meant, even if he did not say anything. The rodent was not running towards them- it was running away from something worse. "Aerie... some light, if you please." Keldorn asked the Avariel, in front of her in the line. "These old eyes of mine could use a bit of relief. Not all of us can see in the dark."

Aerie smiled with a nod- she whispered an incantation, letting a flare cantrip ignite in her hands. She repeated the spell, letting the lights juggle above her head as they walked, illuminating their path well. It was a blessing at first, but the further along they went, the ability to see became a curse. The pillars that aided the remains of the temple above in standing began to become more and more periodic, the holy structure half collapsed into the earth. The walls were cracked and defaced, evidence of the drow incursion into this place. Greywulf narrowed his eyes, trying to see through the cloud of dust and dirt that choked the air. There was a figure across the hall, standing upright... he flipped his quarterstaff to one hand, muttering his spellcraft as a fireball ignited in his free hand- the dust cleared and Imoen turned in revulsion, Greywulf exhaling with a mixture of disgust and sorrow. An elven warrior was pinned to the wall by arrows, hanging limp as his corpse rotted. It had been there for days by the look of it- and it only got worse the further they went.

Blood stained the ground, the implements and articles of the temple were scattered about, broken and shattered. Walls were defaced and carved into, once holy altars covered in blood or worse. Bodies were leaning up against the walls or merely sprawled out, both drow and surface elf alike. "Such death… I have never seen so much suffering among the elves." Aerie said in a heartbroken voice, looking at the dozens of corpses lining the halls of the temple.

Greywulf sighed as he glanced at the dead. All were adorned in their green, elvish armor, golden helms and long curved blades. Long green cloaks, once beautiful and protective in their magic were now little more than tatters on their backs. From the condition of the bodies, it was all too obvious that most of the bodies of the surface elves had been hewed long after they were dead.

"There is nothing for us here- the sooner we leave this place of death, the better." Greywulf wrapped his gray cloak tighter, gesturing for them to keep moving. They negotiated the long halls and passages of the temple until the came to the great hall of the Temple, long pillars and statues lining each side of the room. There was one large altar in the center and before it was a plateau, elvish runes and writing encircled around it. They approached it carefully and upon it was a stand, as though something was to sit there. It was empty- more elven corpses lay at the base of it than anywhere else- something had been taken. Something that dozens of elves had been willing to die to protect. Aerie raised one hand and placed it over the empty altar; her brown knit in concentration as she felt the magical traces of what had been there-

She gasped, stumbling backward, Minsc catching her with a nervous look, making sure she was okay. She looked up at the big ranger, then the others. "Something... something very powerful was once here. Something tied so closely to the elves- even I could sense it. I fear that something terrible has happened..."

"Wait." Solaufein growled, turning toward the back exit of the hall, across the room. They listened- the sound of several footsteps echoed back, soft at first but growing louder. There was no hesitation, no query about the course of action- weapons were brought to the ready and magics prepared to cast. It was not hard to find the source of the rapidly increasing commotion; they turned one corner to see a group of surface elves, battered and bloody underneath their golden and emerald armor, slowly being pushed back before a horde of drow soldiers, nearly twice their number. It looked like a counter-offensive gone wrong, turning into an ambush and subsequent rout.

Still, the drow had yet to notice them, and had the other elves seen the seven strangers, they were far too busy fighting for their lives to do anything about it. Greywulf motioned to Minsc, then the others. Minsc returned the two axes he carried to his back, then gripped the Sword of Chaos once again, a grin splitting his face as he felt its familiar grip. He inhaled, then shouted the loudest war cry he could muster, his voice echoing far and loud, booming past the elves locked in combat. The drow had a second to turn before they were faced with sword and sorcery. A drow priest turned to meet the Hallowed Redeemer in his stomach, Keldorn pushing him off the blade with an elbow, then stepping into another opponent, this one ready with a sword parry. Solaufein and Minsc were right beside the paladin, both impaling enemies before stepping into the newly trapped drow, spells of divine and arcane origin striking the dark elves with lightning and flame. Jaheira's eyes flashed bright red as she spoke the words to her own druid powers- vines erupted and spread like wildfire, growing and building on each other, slowly creating a cordon between the wounded and the hostile, forcing the drow to fight their party instead.

Imoen grunted as she dodged aside from the downswing of a mace, the last attack of a dying opponent- she flipped around him and thrust her short sword into his back before sheathing it again and flipping her bow from her shoulder back to her hand, going for another arrow- "Down! Down!!"

The command took them all by surprise, but she did not hesitate. There was little time had she disobeyed; the girl looked up to see a flurry of arrows whizzing over their prone bodies. A fresh battalion of elven archers had come during the short but intense fight, pushing the wounded battle group past them back towards the surface while they took their place. Drow had turned the corner behind them, no doubt ready to do the same thing to them that they had just done- the arrow blitz made short work of their would-be ambushers, knocking all of them off their feet.

Greywulf stood up slowly, glancing at the pile of bodies laid up by the speed and accuracy of the elven archers. Jaheira gestured towards the vine wall, dispelling it easily. The commander of the elven group stepped forward, opening his mouth to say something- he drew his curved blade at the sight of Solaufein, bringing it to attack- Greywulf swept in front of the elf, raising his hands in alarm. "No! He is not one of them. We are surfacers, here to help- and believe it or not, he is here to help as well. Do not make us fight you and the drow to reach freedom."

"He is a drow- if you were truly here to aid us then you would know what horrors he and his kind have unleashed upon us." the elf spat, tightening the grip he held on his long-handled sword. "Bereleth! Bring the wounded and the rest of your company back to the surface with these outsiders- Elhan will know what to do with them. If you even think the drow is going to strike, kill him."

"And what about us?" Imoen demanded. "We did just save your lives."

The elf hesitated for a moment, looking at the others- "If they try and protect the drow, kill them as well."

Greywulf swallowed, glancing at the elves that moved to guide them back toward the surface. "So much for a friendly welcome..."

X X X X X X X

"You know how I used to talk about going to see the elves? I mean, back in Candlekeep? Visiting their cities, seeing how they lived, what they were like?"

Greywulf tossed a look at his sister, standing beside him and taking in their full surroundings. He let a slightly quirked smile show, then nodded in affirmation. "I remember. What of it?"

"I take it all back." Imoen scowled, shifting her weight nervously, looking around towards the armed elves that stood guard over them, their every move catalogued and watched in suspicion. They had been brought to the surface without harm, and just seeing the light of the outside world once more was reward enough for them, truth be told. It had been so long; there were times they had despaired of ever seeing something so simple as green grass again. But here it was, the fields, trees, mountains and sky... and in the midst of it all, an elven war camp, full of death and grim determination to push their enemies back.

They had been led through the winding paths of the camp layout, finally coming to the 'brig' if it could be called as such. Numerous tents were scattered here and there, housing scores of guards and soldiers. Some were merely resting before returning to the fight- others were wounded and waiting for healing that might never come. The elven healers were hurrying through the camp, saving whom they could... but it was clear that the war had taken its toll. The number of uninjured was growing smaller each day- it would not be long before there were no reinforcements left to send into the temple below.

Aerie bit her lip, uncomfortable with the hostility directed towards them. Particularly since she was a full-blooded elf- she saw Solaufein with his head bowed, eyes shut tightly with an almost pained look on his face. She slowly took a step toward him, mindful of the guards and careful not to make any sudden moves that could be interpreted wrongly. "Solaufein... are you all right? You look like you're in pain-"

"I- no." he muttered quietly, managing to look up at her, blinking heavily. "I... I am not used to the light of the surface. It has been many years since I set foot above the Underdark. I... I will be fine in time."

"Well, here." Aerie unfastened her cloak, swinging it around the big elf, pushing the hood up to shield some of the glare from his sensitive eyes. The cloak was too small for him, of course... but he managed a slight smile of appreciation. "It'll do until we can find something else for you- more your size."

"Ahem... thank you, Aerie." Solaufein raised his head, letting his red eyes meet hers for a moment. He seemed to search her for a moment, not leaving until she flinched, averting her eyes, slightly unnerved. "Forgive me. I did not mean to make you uncomfortable... I merely wished to see what makes us so different."

"What?" Aerie frowned, not understanding.

"My people... my kin below... they were once like you. Like these elves." Solaufein said quietly. "Something changed within us... corrupted us. I look into your eyes- there is so much more light, so much more warmth, than anything I have seen below. My people have lost their way... as had I."

"But you came back to the light." she replied. "There was hope for you- perhaps your people might do the same again, in time."

Solaufein chuckled, shaking his head in disbelief. "You base your hope on a man whose deeds in service to Lolth far outweigh any redemption he might seek. I would not hold such hope, Aerie... neither should you."

He turned from her, lowering his head again; Aerie had no time to try and pursue the conversation, for the sound of footfalls soon entered their prison. Three elves had arrived, two dressed in robes of long cloth, red and green with golden trim. Their leader was obvious; his golden armor composed of intricate splint mail, the design of vine and leaf evident upon its engraving. He wore a long green cape, golden plate leggings and pauldrons of steel with bracers to match. The long sword at his hip was sharp and glowing with magic- he took a position before all seven of them, exhaling deeply as he looked upon each of them. The elf raised both hands to his head, removing his helm, letting the blonde locks of his hair flow freely. "Well... this is a most unusual situation. I am Commander Elhan, and you seven have a great deal of explaining to do."

"I'll be honest… I was hoping for a bit of a friendlier welcome." Greywulf said, his smile only partly forced. "Believe me when I say we have no intention of fighting."

Elhan's demeanor did not cool- if anything, he seemed more on edge than anything. "Somehow I do not think you understand the gravity of the situation here. We are at war with the drow- with whom, I might add, you have seen fit to keep company with, going so far as to bring one to the surface with you. Nobody but drow and our own forces have come up from that pit since the invasion began... and without warning, six surfacers and a so-called 'friendly' drow appear. Forgive me if I seem skeptical."

Something Elhan had said caught their attention; Keldorn cleared his throat, frowning. "You said that nobody has come to the surface but the drow and your forces? Are you certain? We were pursuing another pair who escaped this way, or so we were told."

The reaction was extraordinary- Elhan's eyes narrowed and he clutched the hilt of his sword tightly. Even the sages behind him looked taken aback, and for a moment they feared the conversation had taken a wrong turn. Elhan's composure returned quickly, but there was no mistaking the look of wariness he set on them. "It would seem I have more questioning to do than I had originally thought. Answer my questions truthfully, and all will go quickly. Now then, something simple and direct to begin with. You emerged from the home of the drow. Were you fleeing or in league with them?"

"We were fleeing. We needed a way to leave the Underdark, and Adalon the guardian provided one in return for infiltrating the city of Ust Natha. While we were inside, we managed to kill the Matron Mother of House Despana and her eldest daughter. They didn't take too kindly to that." Greywulf replied, smirking a bit.

Elhan arched one eyebrow, then glanced behind him at the two elves who had accompanied them. Their eyes were closed, faces calm and at peace... one of them opened his eyes and nodded to Elhan. "He speaks the truth."

"Indeed? I am surprised... few boast of such things as you. Killing the Matron Mother of the city... it is little wonder that their forces have been in such disarray lately. A good start. You are currently not an ally of the drow- and if the silver one trusted you, it bodes well. Now… what of your companion, this dark elf who travels with you? Who are you and why are you here?"

Solaufein met Elhan's cold glare, returning it with his own. "I am Solaufein... former commander of the drow armies, and warrior of Ust Natha. I have abandoned my people to seek redemption in the arms of Eilistraee upon the surface... not to answer foolish questions borne of paranoia and mistrust."

The elven commander braced himself at Solaufein's words; he glanced back at the other sage, who, despite more than a hint of apprehension, nodded and confirmed what he had discerned. "He speaks the truth as well."

"Very well then." Elhan nodded, turning to Keldorn, his gaze intensifying, almost as though the first two questions were a formality. Whatever he was about to ask had far more concern to him than whether they were fleeing or not. "You said you were pursuing two others. Who were they?"

"A mage by the name of Irenicus and a vampire named Bodhi." Keldorn answered, to which Elhan nodded, his face tightening in barely suppressed anger. Elhan snapped another question off right away. "And are you in league with them?"

"No, and never let it be said otherwise!" Minsc growled, his anger visible. "He has killed my witch, my friend, and taken the souls of Minsc's friends! He is a murderer and we will have his head before Minsc is through!"

Elhan seemed slightly taken aback for a moment... then cocked his head to the side, a slight smile and a quirk of the mouth crossing his face. "Indeed... I doubt my sages need to confirm this; your passion against this monster is as evident as ours. Whatever manner of creatures you all are, we appear to be on the same side in this particular instance."

"Of course. Although I can't help but point out that had you listened to us, we've been telling you that from the beginning." Greywulf took his quarterstaff back from the elf guard who held it, the others reclaiming their own weapons similarly. "Still, any welcome is appreciated-"

Elhan raised one hand, stopping against the sorcerer's chest. His jaw tightened a bit as he spoke with a bit of reluctance, "You are certainly less of a threat than I had first imagined, but do not think you are welcome as of yet. This area is still at risk and I will not take any chances. For now, I will merely apprise you of the situation, and you will see why travel in this area is restricted. You have heard of Suldenesselar, high city of the elves? It is gone."

The import of what he had said did not take long to set in; Aerie shook her head in denial, eyes wide in fear. "That… that can't be possible, can it? An entire elven city, as ancient and powerful as Suldenesselar cannot have been destroyed so easily!"

"Wait... you said it was gone, not destroyed." Jaheira interrupted, her eyebrows furrowing. "Why did Irenicus strike this place, this Temple in particular? Surely there was more to this than meets the eye."

"You show wisdom." Elhan said darkly. "The city has only been concealed, hidden by the most powerful of Shadow Magics; we cannot penetrate the wards that have hidden it. We are forced to remain here, pestered by drow while supplies and men falter, no reinforcements from Suldenesselar forthcoming. We have sent riders to the Wood Elves of Tethyr, but they will be another week yet, as will the elves of Letherel. A druid grove near Trademeet was once one of our strongest allies, but they have not responded to our calls for aid. We cannot spend any men to investigate, and we suffer without their druidic magics to aid our cause against the drow."

"Drow that were incited by Irenicus and bargains he made in the Underdark." Keldorn said gravely, beginning to understand the precariousness of the elves' position.

"Yes. You asked why Irenicus struck here. Why he chose this location to invade the surface with the drow, when there are other, less guarded portals. The Temple below contained the Rhynn Lanthorn, an artifact of great power; it is forever connected to Suldenesselar and no doubt provided the drow the location of our city. Without it, there is no chance of us returning to the gates of Suldenesselar."

"We found a pedestal inside the main courts of the temple inside. It was empty, but the aura of power... it was so intense. It must have been where the Lanthorn was placed." Imoen added with a nod.

"Indeed. If we still had the Lanthorn, it would be a simple matter of walking back to Suldenesselar. Until we find it, we are powerless, stuck here fighting the last vestiges of drow invaders. If what you said is true, and the Matron Mother of House Despana is dead, their forces will falter soon and retreat back to their caverns. Still, we have no time for this- our supplies dwindle and our men grow weary."

"Do you have any idea where the Lanthorn could have been taken?" Keldorn asked.

"No." Elhan spat, his anger palpable. "When Irenicus burst from the ruins below, we had only begun to set up our defenses and blockades- he blasted through without trouble. We would have sensed it on him had he been carrying the Lanthorn; it must have been given to another, one of his servants. Our sages have been trying to locate it for days now, but the best they can give us is a general location."

"And where is that?" Greywulf asked, his own suspicions already formed.

"Athkatla. Its power is too great to be hidden completely, but we have no men to spare to investigate. Even if we did, it would be seen as aggression against the humans. They would overreact and retaliate, no doubt."

"You could simply explain your situation." Keldorn offered. "The Radiant Heart at least-"

"No!" Elhan shouted, calming abruptly. "This is not a matter to be spread amongst the rest of the Realms. I suggest that if you truly wish your vengeance against this human, this Irenicus... you go to Athkatla and find the one who stole the Lanthorn and return it to us. Once it is back in our possession, we will move on the city and reclaim what is ours."

"It was probably Bodhi- only she would've been trusted with this kind of thing." Greywulf pointed out. "And if that is indeed the case, we will need help fighting her."

"You have traveled extensively in these lands, have you not?" Elhan declined. "Surely you can find others to aid you. I have already told you that we have no agents to send into Amn. Seek out allies, perhaps your Radiant Heart or the mercenaries who seem to be in such abundance in human cities. They need not know the nature of the emergency, only that a great evil must be uprooted. If you seek other supplies, we will provide you with what you need here. Our healers are located in the tents with the blue flags above them."

"Right... I don't suppose you've got Holy Water and stakes there as well?" Imoen asked, resting one hand on her hip.

"We do. You will be provided with any supplies you need... although there is one matter we have yet to discuss." Elhan said, standing tall as his gaze moved towards the hooded drow standing amongst them. "This drow... after everything we have been through, you will understand if we do not trust him. We must have a way to secure his loyalty before he leaves here."

"Is that so?" Greywulf felt his throat tighten, the half-elf clutching hiss quarterstaff tightly. "You wouldn't be talking about a Geas, would you?"

"It is the best way to ensure cooperation-" Elhan was cut off by the half-elf pushing into his face abruptly, his face hard. "No. Nobody's swearing any kind of Geas in my group, and that's not a negotiable term. You let all of us go free, or none of us."

"If the elves fear one drow so much, I consider it a compliment to my own skill." Solaufein said, a slight smirk crossing his face. "If it is necessary-"

"No." Greywulf reiterated. "But I have a better idea... I'll make you a deal, Elhan. You let us go without any sort of loyalty oaths or spells of binding, and you swear to tell us what the hell is actually going on here when we get back. Save the protests- we all know you're lying through your teeth about this whole thing. In return, you get the most famous sword in elven history- the Equalizer. Drow-bane, yours to wield in the reclaiming of Suldenesselar."

An audible gasp could be heard from the nearby elves as they listened to Greywulf's words; Elhan inhaled sharply, choosing his words carefully. "You claim to possess the sword that was broken, and you would simply give it up for the sake of one drow? I'm not sure I believe you. Even if I did, what is to stop us from taking the sword back right now? After all, it is ours by right."

"You believe me." Greywulf chuckled. "I can see that in your eyes. As for what keeps you from taking it now? It's still broken. Three pieces, pommel jewel, hilt, blade. And since I don't see any smoke coming from the tents you've got set up here, I'm going to venture a guess and say your elven smiths didn't accompany you out here to this battlefield. I can bring it to someone who can reforge it while we're in Athkatla. When we return, I'll give it to you, in exchange for everything I asked for. Sound fair?"

"And who would you entrust with the reforging of one of our greatest artifacts?" Elhan growled. "Some common blacksmith? I assure you, it is not so easy."

"Oh, it's much better than that." the half-elf shook his head, preparing for the backlash. "There's a smith in Athkatla who's trained his whole life for this kind of work. His name's Cromwell- and he's a dwarf."

"You would use the Equalizer as a bargaining tool, make demands of us, and on top of it all, put the weapon of our people in the hands of a dwarf for reforging?!" the elf looked ready to strike Greywulf right there; the man merely folded his arms.

"We all know the dwarves have no equal in the work of the smith, despite whatever grudges you hold with them. You can take my offer and be known forever as the elf who brought Drow-bane back to Suldenesselar... or we can keep it, reforge it for ourselves, and we'll all go our merry way. Make your choice. Do we have a deal?"

Elhan opened his mouth to speak- and abruptly shut it, glaring heavily.

X X X X X X X

"So... how long?"

Her voice came as a sudden shock to her reality- as much as it could be called that. More of a tunnel vision, a filter of anything but her own thoughts, trying to make sense of the suddenly topsy-turvy world around her. She had been staring at the ground between her feet as they hiked away from the elven camp, their company on the move for the last few hours, not stopping for rest or relaxation. It felt good to be on the surface, breathing the free air and seeing the light of day for once- that is, for all except Solaufein. Still, it was hard for her to enjoy it, what with the way things were now. With him being here. His presence unsettled her and soothed her all at once. She wanted to go to him, to talk to him and touch him, just to assure herself he was really there and wouldn't vanish like some dream... but the thought of even looking at him for too long made her stomach twist.

"Um... Jaheira?"

Balance... it was almost funny. It was what she had lived for, espoused with every breath for so long. Looking at her now... there was little sign of the woman she had once been. Her heart, her emotions, mind... all tugged and pulled in so many directions she could scarcely tell what she truly felt or believed any more. And in the midst of it all-

"Jaheira?!"

Her head snapped up, turning to look at the source of the voice, Imoen leaning in towards her with a quizzical smile. "You feeling okay?"

"I... yes, of course." she cleared her throat, blinking several times. "I apologize, I was just... never mind. What is it?"

Imoen shrugged, stretching her arms behind her, interlocking her fingers as her back and arms popped several times. "Just wanted to know how long, that's all."

The druid frowned in confusion, running one hand down her face. "Imoen, I- what does that even mean? How long-?"

"How long until you actually talk to Greywulf." she clarified, cocking her head to gesture at the sorcerer, at the head of their formation, just like before... they were just now entering a wooded area, on the outskirts of the Windspear Hills. Minsc was beside him as they walked; Greywulf pointed at something up ahead, Minsc nodding and laughing heartily before slapping him on the back, nearly bowling the half-elf over. "You still haven't said a word to him."

"I don't see how that is your concern." Jaheira sighed, turning away from Imoen's questioning gaze. "My relationship with Greywulf is between us and will work itself out just fine without your meddling, however well-meaning it might be."

"Meh. What can I say, I like meddling. I'm a natural born meddler. I meddle, it's what I do." Imoen chuckled, Jaheira exhaling in exasperation. Imoen noticed; she scowled and quickened her pace to keep up with Jaheira. "Well it sure looks like you're not in the mood to talk. Let me tell ya something... he still cares about you. I can see it in his eyes- he's trying really, really hard not to come over here and make the choice for you. He's giving you time, space... waiting for you to forgive him before he tries to even talk with you."

"Then he's wasting his time." Jaheira shook her head. "There's nothing for him to forgive. He never died, and now he has returned. Everything is as it was before... nothing more needs to be said."

Imoen listened to her peak- she shook her head in amazement. "Y'know, sometimes I wonder about you. You can be so wise, so smart... and then you turn into this complete and utter moron. It doesn't take a genius to see you still resent him for what he did- or didn't say. He's trying to put it behind him; the rest of us have, why can't you?"

Imoen sighed in disgust, waving one hand as she walked off. "I'm sorry, Jaheira... but he's not going to force the two of you to be friends again... he's waiting for you to tell him it's okay. To tell him you forgive him. And it's more than I'd do."

Jaheira watched the girl walk off, the unspoken words echoing in her mind, in her heart... _But he's not the one who needs forgiveness- I am. I need his forgiveness, and Silvanus help me, I don't know if I can ask him for it._

"I like your hair."

Greywulf turned to Aerie, the elf in stride with him as they pushed through the dense canopy of wood and leaf that composed the far side of the Windspear Woods, still miles out from their destination. The sun was just setting past the afternoon- it would be dark by the time they pushed through to the other end of the forest. He glanced up at the brown locks of his hair, a strand of silver running through one side of it. "This? I... I asked Adalon to leave it like that, actually. Just... something to remind me of what I did, down there. Of what I became- and how much I almost lost."

"You survived. So did we- and I'm glad. I just... I wanted you to know that I'm glad you're back. You helped me so much... before, with my wings. Overcoming the loss of them- I don't know if I could've done it without you." Aerie admitted. "J-just don't give us that kind of scare again, okay?"

He smiled, nodding with a hint of a laugh. "I shall do my best, rest assured. But Aerie... there is something I've wanted to ask you. You've been adventuring with us now for what... six months?"

The Avariel thought for a moment, then nodded. "That sounds about right. Why?"

He shrugged, noticing a stone in their path and proceeding to use his quarterstaff to nudge it out of their way, sending it tumbling into the nearby underbrush. "Any regrets?"

"Regrets? No… not anymore. I've learned so much with all of you- I would never have had the courage to do this on my own." Aerie responded earnestly, before letting a slightly teasing smile grace her petite features. "And as an added bonus, I have a seven foot tall ranger following me around and protecting me from everything."

He chuckled, craning his head back toward Minsc, the large ranger giving him an exuberant thumbs-up as he turned back to Aerie, nodding in acquiescence. "Very true. In all seriousness Aerie, I ask this because I want to prepare you. So far... you haven't really had to deal with the pain of losing someone on the road. Someone you traveled with, fought with... it's a relationship so close that you don't even realize it until it's gone. It was there when I fell in the cavern, but I was back in a little more than a week."

"Eight days." she amended, shrugging at the arch of his eyebrow. "Not that I was counting."

"Aerie, the first day I set out on the road... the very first day I left Candlekeep, Gorion was taken from me." he said, trying to find the right words to say. "Since then, I've lost a lot of friends… good people that I loved with all my heart. By the grace of the gods, the body count has been relatively low- a lot lower than it could have been- but it's still a weight I carry each day. Every life, every innocent and every friend who dies on my account... I can't ever forget them. As long as you stay on this road, you'll have to face this kind of pain too. Everyone does. When you do... just know that you don't have to face it alone. Without Imoen, I don't know what I would've done when Gorion died. Just don't forget it later on."

"I won't." she nodded earnestly. "And... thank you. You're right- I almost lost it in the Underdark, after I thought you died. I felt like a part of me had died."

"You'll be fine, Aerie." Greywulf rested one hand on her shoulder, squeezing lightly. "I just wanted to make sure you knew that."

Before she could open her mouth to respond, several howls interrupted them, echoing through the rapidly darkening forest. Greywulf immediately raised his staff, his eyes narrow and keen as he scanned the tree-line around them. Keldorn was at his side in an instant, the paladin glancing at him as their pace slowed, moving with much more care and concern. "What do you think? Wolves, probably?"

"Probably." Greywulf motioned for Minsc to come up to the head, the ranger and the rest of the group clustering together. "But to be safe, we'd better let Minsc take point. If you see anything that looks out of the ordinary- tracks, strange animal behavior... anything, let us know. We are on the edges of Firkraag's land, after all. Better to be safe than sorry."

Minsc nodded somberly, reaching behind him to strap both axes in place, leaving him free to concentrate fully on the scenery and the wood before him. He led them through the trails and the quickest routes through the rapidly dimming light, hoping to meet the end of the wood before nightfall- or before they met something else. Another howl, this time much closer. It was followed by the sounds of snapping and barking... growls like that of giant dogs. Minsc raised a hand, then drew both axes quietly. He gestured to his left with one of them- the seven of them slowly spread out, fanning towards the source of the noises. Solaufein unhooded himself as he walked, the quietest of them all as he drew the large blade he carried, it's steel crafted to withstand the crumbling decay that most adamantine fell prey to on the surface.

He pushed aside a branch in his way as he finally spotted the clearing filled with a blur of fighting and mayhem- There was a group of seven gnolls, fully armed and equipped with halberds fighting viciously against a group of six humans. In other circumstances it might've been monster hunters, perhaps knights clearing out a dangerous group of marauders. This was no ordinary situation- the humans were unarmed, unarmored, and totally, utterly destroying their opponents. The drow's eyes narrowed as he watched a human take hold of one of the gnolls by its fur, then rip with both hands- two halves fell to the ground, blood spilling everywhere.

"We should not be here." Keldorn whispered, even as the last of the gnolls was thrown to the ground, its glassy eyes staring up at nothing as the human holding it wiped his mouth with a bloodied sleeve. "Whatever this is... it is not our quarrel."

Greywulf nodded, preparing to call the others away- one of the humans below, hairy and covered with a scruffy beard sniffed, then scanned the area, eyes finally settling on the seven watchers. "Well! An audience... not quite expected, but rather undeserved. Come forth!"

Imoen exchanged a hesitant look with her brother, but he simply clutched his weapon tighter and took a step into the clearing, the others following suit. "Good afternoon... we would've offered to help you with these gnolls, but it seems you had the situation quite in hand."

"Indeed." one of the men laughed, a rough and throaty sound. "Dispatching these creatures was well and truly easy."

"Perhaps so, perhaps so," another man said with a shrug, "But are we not amazing in combat? Even in these frail and hairless skins?"

"Hairless perhaps, but frail?" one man countered. "Perhaps you should speak for yourself."

"Now now, do not fight amongst yourselves. We have plenty to struggle against without turning upon each other." the one who had spoken first said with a vicious grin, eyeing the newcomers, his barely suppressed ferocity proving most alarming to the party.

"Indeed. I readily agree." one nodded, licking his lips as his eyes rested upon Jaheira.

"You would. Anything he says is perfectly acceptable to you." one of the men scoffed, hissing- or was it growling?- "We all know where your loyalties lie."

"Just because you are bitter about being too weak to lead, you question everyone who follows as they should." he retaliated, sneering at the man who had questioned him.

"I said to stop the bickering. Have I made myself clear?" their leader raised his voice, clenching one fist.

"Indeed. Bad form for a pack to appear as such."

"Are we worried about our appearance when it is no more permanent than the shifting of day or night?"

"Here we go with the philosophical questions again. Can you not just be happy with the hunt? Must you analyze us all?"

"You should be worried about the gnolls. Desperately stupid canines. No sense of self worth outside of combat."

"And how would you know? You've never engaged one in anything BUT combat."

"You can see it in their bearing, in the way they hold their tails."

"Oh you cannot. The only thing in their tails is what they sat in yesterday. Filthy things."

"You are one to talk. Smell yourself in the morning lately?"

"That's it, I'm going to kill him."

"No, you are not! If you must have blood, then take it from these whelps here." their leader commanded, gesturing towards the onlookers. "They are the kind we are hunting, after all."

"I think I see where this is going." Greywulf whispered, taking a quick step back. "Now might be a good time to leave..."

"The hunt! I had forgotten. Meat for us all. Pretty clothes for the masquerade. Yes, they are ideal." one of the men exclaimed.

"They look about our size, and we do go through so many sets of clothes each night."

"If you would change before you change you would not have the problem." the bearded man lectured, suddenly noticing the seven of them moving to escape. "Ah! They're trying to leave!"

One man looked positively hurt, to which he sniffed, "Well that's rude. I'm not sure they're to my tastes at all."

"Since when are you so picky?"

"He's always been like that. Won't even hunt if he's having a bad fur day."

"He refuses to hunt? That's not his decision, he should follow the will of the pack."

"Like a good little puppy, hmm?"

"You really tick me off, you know?"

"Yes, actually, I do."

"Oooh, now I've really got to kill something." the man growled, before turning to Greywulf with the rest of his company. They had scarcely begun to change shape before Imoen sighed, drawing her bow to its maximum length. "I really hate shapechangers..."

Minsc dodged under the leap of one Wolfwere and ripped upward with both axes, gutting the creature straight up and down. It tumbled to the ground, trying to crawl forward, its regenerative powers just barely keeping it alive- Minsc ended all hope with a quick down-strike, decapitating it. Solaufein's blade had impaled one of them, but even as he withdrew the sword, it clutched its stomach and kept moving forward, reaching out with its claws to slice the drow warrior's neck open. He dodged underneath one attack, sidestepped another... a second Wolfwere tackled him to the ground, its putrid jaws inches from tearing him open. The hilt of his sword was in between the jaws of it's mouth as Solaufein grunted, pushing upward on the blade with one hand, the pommel of the hilt with the other.

Imoen appeared behind it, taking two high steps to end upon the back of the beast, her bow raised to it's full extent as she aimed directly downward... two arrow tips came out the front of the Wolfwere's face, the creature ceasing it's struggles as she jumped off, letting Solaufein push the corpse away as he stood to his feet. "Pretty good, huh?" Imoen winked as Solaufein gathered his bearings- he swept past her, his blade cutting down the monster he had injured earlier before it could rip Imoen open from behind. The drow raised one eyebrow, looking back at the flustered Imoen. "Not bad at all."

Aerie was behind a fairly small tree, dodging back and forth as her opponent leapt and snarled, making half-leaps and jumps as she swept this way and that, trying to keep it off balance- it jumped to the left, Aerie dodging to the right as she chanted her magics, finally culminating in a lightning bolt, discharging into the body of the shape-changer. It howled in pain as the electricity crackled over it, it snarled and made another attack, forcing her to move away again. It leapt a second time, this time nearly on top of her- Aerie raised both hands and called upon the power of her priestly magics. A wind swept the Wolfwere back, pushing it away, its paws sliding back as it raised its arms to protect itself- it jumped, but was unprepared for the gale force. It was swept into the air, higher and higher until finally- a jagged, sickening noise echoed from the chest of the Wolfwere, impaled on a broken branch halfway up the tree. It struggled and fought, trying to get down- Aerie let herself smile in satisfaction as she raised her hand high, unleashing a barrage of flame arrows above. By the time that part of the tree had stopped burning, all movement had ceased.

Jaheira swung her spear around to bat an attack aside and continued the spin, bringing the tip around to dig into her opponent's shoulder. It howled and struck back, spinning her around to slam against a rock nearby, pushed hard by the beast's strength, its jaws pressed against the spear shaft. Jaheira grunted as she tried to push backward, then released with one hand to slide her dagger out and slam it into the Wolfwere's side. It howled in pain, but with only one hand blocking him the Wolfwere slammed forward, knocking Jaheira's head against the rock, slamming her into unconsciousness. It growled as it pulled the dagger out, throwing it aside to lean in and tear her neck open-

It gurgled as it felt the strength leave its limbs, everything growing darker and slower until the shadow claimed it completely- Greywulf lowered his hand, the Finger of Death spell having done its work. Another of the beasts saw Jaheira's vulnerability, moving to strike her down- he inhaled sharply, moving to protect her. Just as she had always done for him. Just as he would always do for her... no matter what.

X X X X X X X

The sound of embers crackling and wood popping in the darkness was what awoke her- Jaheira's eyes fluttered open, the woman lying on her back, her skin illuminated by the glow of the fire. She was on a cot, one of seven that were positioned around their campsite for the night- darkness had fallen and the only other light was that of the moon and stars above. Crickets chirped unseen, and there were no silhouettes walking about, the others had all gone to bed as well. She pulled herself to a seated position, wincing mightily at the sharp pain in her head- Jaheira brought one hand gingerly to the back of her skull, feeling the bump and the hint of dried blood.

"Here... lay back down. You need to get some more rest. You took a pretty bad fall."

His voice drew a slight chill down her spine, despite the closeness of the fire- she looked up to see Greywulf kneeling walking to her, kneeling beside her. "We were worried for a while."

"What... what happened?" she asked, running one hand down her face, trying to clear some of the dizziness and pain. "I was fighting... and then-"

Greywulf helped her lie back down, pushing a folded robe beneath her head to give some semblance of a pillow. "And then your head got cracked against a boulder the size of Minsc. Knocked you straight out. We almost didn't get to you before the Wolfwere did... you're lucky to be alive."

She shook her head as he settled in to a seated position beside her prone body, the reflection of the fire glimmering in her green eyes as they sat there together. "I should thank you then. Once more you save my life."

"I think it was you who told me to stop counting." he countered quietly, glancing at the sleeping forms of the others. "I should get to bed too- I just wanted to make sure you were all right."

She nodded. and he began to stand up to leave- a slash of red marred the lower edge of his robes, Jaheira catching it before he could step away. "What is that?"

He stopped, looking back at her. "Ah... nothing. There were a few more beasts than we thought- one of them took me by surprise. Got a lucky swipe in- Aerie worked on it, it'll be fine in the morning."

He hesitated a moment before looking away this time- Jaheira caught it, nodding slowly in realization. "It was protecting me, wasn't it? You got hurt protecting me."

She sat up swiftly, a mix of anger and frustration crossing her features. He leaned over, shaking his head, "Jaheira, we both would've done the same thing-"

"That's not what this is about." she cut him off with a hiss, her voice too loud in the night calm. She looked at the others, still asleep, then pushed her blanket off, slowly getting to her feet. She stalked out of their campsite, the sorcerer following close behind until their fire was burning in the distance, the two out of earshot of the others as she whirled to face him.

He raised his hands in acceptance, trying to make sense of it all. "Jaheira... I don't know what you're feeling right now. You have every right to be angry with me; I just need you to know that if you want me to stop talking to you, if you want me to avoid you, if you want me to leave you alone... I will. But don't ask me to stop caring about you. To stop looking out for your safety, to stop..."

He trailed off unsure of what to say. He caught her eyes, the druid shaking her head, tears welling up. She took a step away from him, her eyes closed. "I'm not... I am not the one who should be angry. You should not have to apologize... should not be under scrutiny, under fire... it is me. I am the one..."

He took her by the hands in confusion, trying to calm the distraught woman, trying to understand what was wrong- "Jaheira? I don't- what are you talking about?"

She inhaled once, trying to regain her composure. "When the cave collapsed. Before you were trapped inside... I said something to you. About you. Do you... did you hear what I said?"

He blinked once, thinking back- _"Don't you understand?! There's nothing left in there worth saving!!"_- he smiled sadly. "Yeah. I remember."

"Then you should know! Should... should hate me. You didn't betray us. You never did." she turned from him, her face in her hands. "I betrayed you. I cursed you- no. I will not make you listen to this; you should not have to. I will understand if... if-"

She trailed off, unable to find the words to continue. Silence hung in the air as she stood with her back to him, refusing to turn for fear of what she might see in his eyes... what she might hear from his lips. Slowly, gently, a hand came into her vision, taking her by the chin and turning her head to face him. He shook his head gently, a smile of comfort crossing his face. "Jaheira... I forgave you the moment you said it."

Her eyes widened, not understanding or comprehending- she tore away from him, anger flashing in her eyes. "No! This is not how it should be! It cannot be this easy! You should not be like this-"

"Why not?" he asked, raising both hands. "Why can't it be this easy? I forgave you... why can't you forgive yourself?"

"Because!" she shouted back, her voice echoing through the forest. "It was not supposed to be this way! You were dead- I was not supposed to be happy. I was not..."

Her voice died away, leaving nothing but the darkness and the quiet, the faint crackle of the fire in the distance, light flickering between them. Neither of them moved, only looking at each other in the night... Greywulf bowed his head, swallowing hard. "I have nothing left to offer you, Jaheira... this is me. Whether you believe it or not- I'm not going to hold anything against you. Not going to abandon you. I just... I just hope you'll believe that again someday."

He turned to walk back to the camp- Jaheira watched him move… and finally, at long last, realized the truth. Even though she hadn't forgiven herself, he had. And for that, at least… he deserved more. More than the solitude, the anger and unthinking punishment she'd heaped on him for her sins. She needed to make amends… and she knew the first step. She stepped forward, calling out to him. "Greywulf! You... you asked me a question. Back in Spellhold."

Greywulf looked back towards her, the edge of his mouth curling upwards. "I asked you if we were still friends."

The druid nodded to the sorcerer- and with that smile, with that one exchanged look, their relationship was restored, the breach mended at last. "Yes. We are."

His smile broadened- he bowed once, then turned and walked back to camp. She watched him go, a smile crossing her face for the first time in many days. She let her mind clear and her heart slow... she shook her head in relief, running one hand down her face. She hadn't dared to hope... but he'd fulfilled all her hopes and more. They were friends... and for one of the first times, she wondered if it was all that impossible for them to be more.

The snap of a branch caught her by surprise- she turned, suddenly conscious that she was without armor, weapon... a pair of red eyes glimmered in the darkness, slowly taking form in the drow warrior who traveled with them. Solaufein nodded to her, Jaheira exhaling heavily. "Forgive me if I startled you... it was not my intent."

"And spying on Greywulf and I was?" she replied, folding her arms. "What are you doing up?"

"You know as well as I that the light does not suit me... I am still unused to the gaze of the sun. And... and I had to see it." he admitted, stepping closer, his white hair almost glowing in the ambient light as he turned his gaze upward. "The moon... the light of my goddess. I had to witness the glory of Eilistraee..."

He trailed off- she nodded in understanding, walking to his side. She sat down on a fallen tree nearby while the drow stood stock still, his pointed ears quivering just slightly as he stared heavenward. "I am glad you have been given this chance... to find both redemption and your god. Not many others have such an opportunity."

"You have been given that chance as well." Solaufein replied quietly. "I do not know what has passed between you and he... but I can see it in his eyes. He looks at you the same way I once looked at Phaere- but it is not my place to speak of these things. I merely came to make certain you and Greywulf would be all right- I have been hearing things tonight... sensing a presence I cannot see. I…"

The drow froze suddenly- his eyes narrowed and he flung his cloak around him as he dashed into the brush nearby, out of sight within a moment. Jaheira frowned in confusion, an alarm slowly going off in her head, once again feeling the danger of being out and missing her armor and weapons-

"Hello, Jaheira."

The voice echoed behind her- familiar. Far too familiar. Her blood chilled, and she turned, nodding as she saw the man who had found her again... somehow. She wished she knew where Solaufein was- and whether the man before her had seen the drow before he vanished. "Dermin... how did you find me? Us?"

Dermin Courtierdale unhooded himself, the light of the distant campfire illuminating his craggy features. He arched one eyebrow, his hands clasped together. "To tell you the truth, our meeting tonight is much by chance. We tracked you, followed you... all the way to Brynnlaw. It was thought that you and the Bhaalspawn had died on the island when it was destroyed by the Githyanki. We had nearly given up on finding you ever again... until one of our scouts reported seeing a group of adventurers emerge from the elven temple that was under siege."

"How did you know-" she began, Dermin snorting in disbelief.

"Do you think the Harpers would let an incident like this, an incursion by the drow, go unnoticed? We have watched and waited, ready to step in should it be necessary... but seeing you again, and the Bhaalspawn?" Dermin shook his head. "The Council was informed that you yet lived, and had still done nothing to rectify the crimes committed. Their decision was unanimous. You have been labeled a killer of Harpers and a traitor. You are charged with collaboration with our enemies. Your execution has been ordered."

A glint of steel- a flash of darkness and Dermin let out a gasp of surprise, cold metal resting against his throat. Solaufein stood behind him, one hand clutching Dermin's arm behind his back, the other holding a dagger to the Harper's neck. "I would be more cautious, human... making such threats in the Underdark would net you a knife in the back at best. At worse... you do not want to know."

Jaheira's eyes flashed and she darted to the pair, raising one hand in protest. "Solaufein! Release him."

The drow glared darkly at Dermin, the man swallowing hard- the dagger vanished in the blink of an eye. He took a step back, his cloak enveloping him as he stood in the dark, eyes unwavering from Dermin. The Harper pulled his own tunic tighter, glaring at Jaheira. "And you travel with a drow now as well? Your choice of company has still not improved."

Solaufein did not move, but Jaheira glanced toward him, raising a hand in protest, just in case. "Why are you here, Dermin? A final warning? Is that it? Such an order has never been given before."

"This is a special case." Dermin shook his head, noticeably taking a step away from the drow behind him. "We can no longer ignore what has taken place. You know what Reviane was ordered- and failed- to do. It will increase... we will hunt you, and we will find you. I am here to give you one last chance to avoid this."

"And what chance is that?" she asked, stiffening. "Bring Greywulf in? Kill him? If that is your deal, then you know what my answer will be."

Dermin glanced at the camp in the distance, then turned back to Jaheira, shaking his head. "No... this has become an internal matter. A matter that concerns you, not him... for now. You care for the god-spawn... perhaps too much. But if you truly desire to spare him these attacks, then you will come with me."

"You make a poor offer." Solaufein growled, his presence seeming to grow in the darkness, in his element. "Perhaps you may wish to reconsider your words."

The two men locked gazes for a moment, the tension palpable in the air- Jaheira spoke up, her voice unsure and hollow. "V... very well, Dermin. I will think on this. Solaufein, stand down."

"You do that, Jaheira." Dermin muttered, turning from them both and stalking off into the woods behind them, away from the camp. "You know where to find me."

He vanished in the darkness, leaving Jaheira staring at his retreating form with sadness in her eyes. Solaufein stepped over to her, pointing to where he had disappeared. "You cannot believe this man. I know deceit and lies... I could do no other to survive in Ust Natha for so long. He plans betrayal for you, I have no doubt. You must not follow him if you wish to live."

She swallowed, her mind churning, flowing... she met Solaufein's eyes, nodding. "You are right. I know what I must do. Let's go back to camp... we will need our strength for the morning."

He turned, striding through the underbrush in front of her back towards camp- Jaheira knelt and picked up a large branch from the ground, breaking it off the log she had been sitting on earlier. Solaufein turned with a frown, eyes widening- the cudgel slammed across the side of his face, sending him to the ground completely unconscious. Jaheira dropped the branch, kneeling briefly to make sure he was all right. She turned him onto his back, regretting the attack- but it was necessary. He couldn't inform the others. Not until she was gone, at least. If they knew, they'd stop her… talk her out of it. Just talking with Greywulf might be enough to keep her here- she stood, clenching her fists in futile despair. _It… it's not fair. Not to either of us. But I can't. I can't do this, not to him. As much as I and he both want this… damn. I never thought it could come to this, but it is done, then. The Fates apparently have other plans for us, despite how much we try. I… It must be done._

X X X X X X

Jaheira exhaled softly as she pulled her pack up, clutched her spear and looked out into the night sky. The stars were dim for once, and the moon clouded. "Silvanus guide me." she whispered.

She shook her head, then took the small piece of parchment she had written on from her pocket. She looked at it once more, then set it underneath a rock where her blankets had been. She glanced over to where Greywulf was sleeping, his chest rising and falling with each breath. She sighed with regret, then turned away, letting her gaze linger over him for a second longer than she had wanted to. It was hard enough without torturing herself over him more than necessary, but she couldn't let it continue. A vision of the stain of red on his robes flashed through her mind again- protecting her, fighting her fight. It wouldn't happen again, that much was clear. Taking a deep breath, she started walking, leaving the campsite and heading west. It was nearly an eight hour journey to Athkatla from their present location, but that would be with breaks and six other companions. On her own, she could make it in half that time. She would be there before they were awake- and with a little help from her druidic magics, Solaufein would not be waking up before the morning.

One last snug of her pack- there. Time to move. She had rationalized, argued, and fought tooth and nail against the fact she now knew to be true; she could not lie to herself any longer. The Harpers could not let their so-called crimes stand; they had to be sated and appeased, through her blood or his. It would not be his, that much she swore.

_Author's Post-Script: Yeah, so I took that Wolf-Were encounter dialogue straight from the game. But it always made me laugh every time I played it, so whatever. :)  
_


	76. Part 3: Burnt Bridges

_Author's Note: Just a quick thank you to everyone out there who's read and reviewed- my internet connection's been non-existent lately so if I haven't dropped a reply to any reviews sent my way, consider this my way of saying thanks! I appreciate everyone's feedback(good or bad) and hope the rest of the story's as good as it was at the beginning!_

Morning... pain. A throbbing ache in his head that wouldn't go away, no matter how hard he willed it. His eyes flickered open, little more than slivers of red as the noonday-noonday?- sun blinded him, lying flat on his back. Out this long... she must have bewitched him with her magics- he wouldn't have been out as long as he was otherwise. Solaufein pushed himself up, stumbling once as he got his footing, brushing grass and dirt from his clothes and hair, the white strands of his hair falling over his face as he blinked once, twice, finally fully aware of his surroundings. He looked down at where he had been lying- almost exactly where he had been standing when she ambushed him.

There was a circle of what looked like bluish tinted powder around where he had been lying- he knelt and touched it, bringing it to his nose and sniffing once before discarding it, his face contorting in distaste. Some kind of repellant- it smelled foul enough. At least she hadn't left him completely to the beasts of the field. He was still far enough away from the campsite that it was out of visual range, but his keen hearing picked up footsteps and voices- the big ranger's tone was quite unmistakable. He pushed through the outskirts of the wood, feeling strangely relieved that the others were still there, that he wasn't completely... alone. Not that he hadn't been on his own for some time in Ust Natha, abandoned by his own House and the target of Despana's unyielding wrath... but this was different. Here, on the surface, things were different... strange. He was grateful to have companions, if only for a short time.

As he stepped out into the light of the campsite, away from the woodland shade, he saw the others milling about the campsite, despondency in their steps and faces- the pink-haired rogue saw him first, relief blossoming across her pretty face. "Solaufein! You're back!"

It was barely a second before he was flooded with their faces and questions, all trying to pry information from him, all utterly confused about what had happened- he decided to cut short his own headache and theirs. "It was Jaheira... she's gone, isn't she."

It was not a question, nor did it come across as one. The five remaining party members quieted at his words- Keldorn spoke first, his eyes narrow as he looked the scowling drow up and down. "How do you know she is missing? Do you know what happened to her?"

"I did nothing but try and prevent her from leaving last night." Solaufein shook his head, still fighting the pain from Jaheira's ambush. "A man came to her- from the Harpers, he said. He threatened her with death if she did not accompany him."

The description chilled Greywulf's bones as he listened- he clutched his staff tightly and tried to keep his voice controlled as he asked, "What was his name?"

"Dermin, Jaheira called him." Solaufein replied, a nod of acknowledgment crossing his face as he looked at Greywulf's countenance. "I see the name is not unfamiliar... you have had dealings with him before, I presume. He said you would be spared if she followed him- it was a lie, and I told her as much when she left, but she attacked me as soon as I turned my back. Since she is not here, I can only imagine she did as she was commanded by this Dermin."

"Why would she have attacked you, though?" Aerie asked with a frown. "It doesn't make any sense..."

"No, it makes perfect sense." Keldorn shook his head. "She would have wanted to protect us... and so she left without us, making sure Solaufein could not tell us until it was too late. Headstrong and foolish. Not unlike many of the rest of you, I might add."

"Not helping." Imoen interjected sweetly, turning to Greywulf. "We're not just going to let her go like this, right?"

"Of course not! Point the way, and Minsc shall be there with blade and boot! We shall not rest while a friend is in need." the ranger answered, even if the question had not been directed at him.

Greywulf glanced up at the ranger, then nodded. "What he said. Although it's a bit more complicated than that... we still have no idea where to start looking. She could be anywhere- Solaufein, did they say anything about where they were going?"

The elf thought a moment longer- he shook his head, growling in disgust. "No. 'You know where to find me', were his words. Unless you know something I do not, it means nothing."

"Perhaps I can be of help."

The voice was faint but somehow still clear as the noonday sun. It carried across the wind to them once more, "Good morning, my children. How are ye all this morn?"

There was a figure approaching from the western foothills, wrapped in long robes that had probably once been dark brown, though they were faded as with long use and travel. He had a long gray beard, and wore a large red wizards' hat. Both hands clutched a long walking staff, the tip just above the old man's head. When he finally neared them, his face was old and wrinkled, but his eyes still twinkled with great power and force. He approached calmly, a smile on his elderly visage.

"Greetings, old master." Greywulf said, covering any surprise at seeing the man- or rather, not seeing him approaching down the long sloping hills on the way to their campsite. "If you need something, we shall aid as best we can, though I'm afraid you've caught us a bit unawares."

The old man laughed and said, "Nay, I did not mean to startle ye, or ask your assistance. I was walking by and could not help but notice this note blowing in the wind."

The man procured a parchment from his robes, handing it to Greywulf easily. The sorcerer took it slowly, unsure of the nature of this meeting. "Thank you, sir. Although… you look familiar, if I may say so. Have we met before?"

"Perhaps… I've been many a place during my long years, though any history we share is rather unimportant at the moment, I should think. This note, however, looks important, and I should not wish anyone to lose what is _really_ important. Do you hear what I am saying to thee? I thought so. Good luck."

Greywulf looked down at the note again then looked up to see the old man impossibly far off into the distance, shrinking as though he had been walking for miles. Greywulf shook his head once, then looked down at the note curiously.

"I have not felt power of that sort for some time... no wizard or priestess in Ust Natha had such an aura." Solaufein murmured. "Not even the Matron Mother. Who was he?"

"I don't... I don't know." Greywulf shook his head, staring oddly. "I could have sworn he was familiar. But I guess..."

"It doesn't matter. Read the note." Imoen insisted, tugging at his arm. He nodded, giving the shrinking figure one final look before holding up the parchment, reading aloud,

_To those who have been my family in good times and ill-_

_Goodbye. No sappy farewells or crying over how things must be; I do neither of these things well, nor would I wish to. I have made a decision; one that is not ideal, but it is necessary._ _I can go nowhere without this shadow, and I wish to leave it behind. I am returning to the Harper Hold that I might face judgment there. I will plead the case as we saw it for whatever they accuse, and if they do not see reason then I will suffer what I must. Galvarey had detractors as well as allies, so I believe I can end this in my favor. If not, at least it will be an end._

_Greywulf- I do not ask you to follow. I do this for myself, and there will be little or no gain for you. You may still be a target of violence, but perhaps their interest in you will wither beside the capture of a 'traitor.'_

_Tell Solaufein I am sorry for what I had to do last night- I am sure he will understand. I pray every one of you will remain safe because of this in days to come._

_For better or worse, I am taking control once more. I hope to see you again in better times. _

_With Nature's love and mine,_

_ Jaheira_

There was silence as he finished reading, his eyes never leaving the paper. He swallowed once, finally looking up at the others. "She's gone."

"She'll have made it to Athkatla a few hours ago, assuming nothing delayed her." Keldorn said grimly. "By my count, that's almost ten hours for us to make it there."

"What do we do?" Aerie asked hesitantly.

"I'll tell you what we're going to do!" Imoen cried angrily. "We're gonna get back to Athkatla as quick as possible and kick some Harper butt if they don't release Jaheira!"

"Minsc agrees." the ranger said darkly. "Minsc and Boo have seen enough dead friends. We will not see another."

Keldorn interrupted, his voice grim. "Greywulf… I fear for Jaheira's safety as much as the rest of us, but…"

"But what?" Greywulf asked, his voice carrying a slight warning tone, seeing where Keldorn was going.

"Do we really have the time for this?" Keldorn said, his steely gaze locking with Greywulf's. "More elves die every day that Irenicus runs free in Suldenesselar. The Rhynn Lanthorn must be found as soon as possible, and finding Jaheira could take weeks or even months, if the Harpers already have her."

"We can't just leave her!" Imoen argued. "She's been with Greywulf and me from the beginning! There's no way we can just let her die!"

"She might not, in the end." Aerie suggested hesitantly. "Perhaps she will be able to persuade them of our side if there in person. This could end up being a good thing, maybe... if she succeeds, she will find her way back to us."

Imoen glared slightly, then said with a huff, "Fine. Greywulf's the leader, he'll decide."

Greywulf stood silent for a moment the other five eyeing him, awaiting his decision. The arguments of Keldorn and Aerie had not left him untouched; he understood the import of what they had said. Solaufein's face was an enigma- the dark elf was hard to read, but he appeared willing to abide by whatever the half-elf decided. Finally, he took a deep breath and spoke.

"You're right, Keldorn." Imoen whirled towards Greywulf, her face showing echoes of betrayal. "The cause of the elves is of prime importance. We must find Bodhi and recover the Lanthorn as soon as possible."

"But… Greywulf, we can't just leave Jaheira by herself!" Imoen protested. "How can you…"

"You're right too, Imoen. We can't." Greywulf replied calmly. "I'm going after her. Alone. The rest of you will find Bodhi and do whatever is necessary to kill her. That's my decision."

"Oh no you don't." Imoen said, her eyes flashing as she shook her head. "You're not pulling a solo mission when it's this dangerous. You'll need back-up."

"I disagree with you even going, Greywulf." Keldorn said sharply. "You know full well how powerful Bodhi is. With Imoen's soul, she'll be even harder to kill. If we find her, we will need all our power to defeat her. We cannot afford to lose anybody."

"Don't forget, we've got the greatest warrior of Ust Natha on our side now." Greywulf nodded toward Solaufein, giving him a tight smile. "Don't underestimate her. She's more powerful than she looks."

"If she stood against all of you and survived, then I have no doubt she is formidable." Solaufein remarked, taking it all in stride. "I look forward to the meeting- it has been far too long since I faced a worthy opponent."

The paladin stepped over to Greywulf, taking him by the arm. "You are letting your emotions cloud your judgment, Greywulf. As much as I loathe myself for forcing the issue, you know I am right in this matter."

The sorcerer stiffened- he turned to Keldorn and replied stonily, "Fine. Look me in the eyes then, and tell me that you have absolutely no problem leaving Jaheira to her fate, whatever it may be. Do this for me and I will acquiesce to your position."

The two stood opposite each other for a moment- Keldorn turned away, his face hard and his eyes troubled. "You know me too well, Greywulf. I cannot."

"And neither can I. I will not abandon Jaheira to a mock trial, a sham and then an undeserved death." he said, determination solid across his face. "If I start now and use some potions of haste and vitality on the way without stopping, I can make it in a few hours."

Nobody said anything, though disapproval could be seen on almost everyone's face as he tightened his pack and slid three potions into belt loops for easy access. "I will meet you in Athkatla. The Copper Coronet within the week."

"Hold on just a second." Imoen argued, stepping forward. "I still say you need a partner for this. You can't go alone."

"I won't be alone, if all goes well." Greywulf shook his head, bending down and picking up his quarterstaff, finally fully equipped and ready to move. "Besides, if you do find Bodhi in my absence, all your strength will indeed be required to fight her. You stay with the group."

"They'll be fine." Imoen said stubbornly, holding her ground. "I'm not taking no for an answer, ya bufflehead. I'll follow with or without your permission and you know I can, too. Now quit being such a stubborn ass; I have potions of haste too."

Greywulf sighed wearily as Imoen glared at him, then muttered, "Siblings. Can't live with them…"

"Can't save your eternal soul without them." Imoen finished with a teasing wink as she walked to his side, drawing a potion from her belt, uncorking it with a thumb.

"Any ideas where to begin searching?" Aerie asked as Imoen finished gathering her own equipment.

"If anyone will know when or where Bodhi has returned to the city, it will be Aran Linvail and the Shadow Thieves." Greywulf responded. "As unpleasant as the idea is, we may have to deal with them again before this is over."

"It's a start. We'll do what we must." Keldorn replied with a sigh as they prepared to leave.

"We'll see you in Athkatla then." Aerie said, nodding to the two as they simultaneously downed their potions. "Try not to get yourselves killed, okay?"

"Hey." Imoen said with her usual cheer, just before she darted off with blinding speed alongside her brother. "It's just us."

"We know." Minsc called back as they disappeared into the distance, speeding across the plains towards Athkatla.

X X X X X X X

"Mistress, we have eagerly awaited your return." the vampire guard bowed low as Bodhi nodded with an air of contempt, walking past his post.

She passed down the halls of the dank rock, moving quickly past vampires and undead servants, coming to her inner sanctum. She was most pleased to see that her plans had gone just as she had hoped. Her servants had followed her instructions to the letter, and her new headquarters were established and guarded. Though smaller than the first, her vampire force had been rebuilt, and her base was just as strong as ever. She approached her coffin and opened it, finding the red satin inside dusty, but flawless. She hissed with pleasure, then opened the cloak she was wearing, removing the Rhynn Lanthorn. She gazed at it for a moment, rage settling across her face at the elvish artifact. She would have destroyed it if she could, but there was no telling when Irenicus might need it; even if he didn't, the magic of the Lanthorn was too powerful to be undone so easily.

She nestled it inside a compartment of the coffin, then rested herself inside. She feared no danger, content with the progress of the plan. Suldenesselar was almost fallen, and soon Irenicus would reach his final goal, that which they had sought so many years ago. As she lay inside the coffin, her undead spirit regaining its strength, her mind wandered to Imoen, the girl whose soul she possessed. Every now and then the purity of Imoen's spirit would twinge, paining her, reminding her of times and feelings long past. She would push such feelings away though, delving deeper into carnal pleasures to drown away such thoughts.

One of the main things she missed in her new lair was the lack of a torture chamber. A new one could be constructed after a while, and since she had no captives at the moment to entertain herself with, it was just as well. Bodhi smirked as she thought of her former lieutenant Valen, whom she had spent many hours both torturing and training. It would be necessary to find a replacement, though one would not be easy to find. Imoen had shown promise, though she had been overconfident of herself when training her, trying to turn her subtly, corrupt her slowly and deeply, make her enjoy the evil she would commit before she became a vampire.

It was the rule of thumb… the strongest warriors of righteousness and light were the darkest and most evil of fallen if corrupted. Anybody could be turned with a simple bite and infection, but their will would be weak, almost defiant, even. Nevertheless, she would have a new vampiress soon. If for nothing else, a flogging post to take her aggression. One of Greywulf's companions would do nicely… Aerie, or Jaheira. Just one more way to torment Greywulf before she snuffed his soulless life out completely.

X X X X X X X

Greywulf and Imoen hurried into the inn door before them, the sounds of the raucous bar blasting forth into them. Greywulf shivered as he looked around, all the inhabitants seeming ominous and unfriendly. Nothing seemed safe after his and Imoen's recent harrowing attack. It had not been five minutes ago, walking to the steps leading into the Friendly Arm Inn, where a wizard approached them, a bounty hunter intent on claiming their lives. Greywulf was still a novice in spell casting and the assassin knew it. Imoen's bow craft gave them more to work with, but she had no more experience than he, and if not for the intervention of the town guards and the two somewhat dubious companions they had picked up along the way, it would have been their corpses on the steps of the inn, not their attacker's.

He looked around nervously once again, fingering his quarterstaff as he did when unsure of their path, until he felt a hand rest on his shoulder. He turned quickly but sighed with relief to see it was Imoen, smiling weakly but hopefully at him, a silent gesture of encouragement. Imoen… he was so glad she had come with him. She was like the little sister he had never had, and even though she could be kind of irritating at times, he didn't think he could do this without her. Even so, he was still hesitant to have her come with him, worrying for her safety. He didn't know how to take care of himself, much less someone else. Gorion could have handled it… Gorion should have handled it. Should have been there. Tears welled up in the corners of his eyes as the memories came flooding back to his head, visions of Gorion falling to the ground, amidst several beasts he had just finished defeating. The lone armored figure Gorion had not slain or driven off in fear, bringing his sword down to cleave the mage in two.

He could still see Gorion's dagger falling from his limp grasp, hear the sound of Gorion's last cry, smell the coppery stench of blood staining the grass beneath his dead father. Gorion had shouted for him to run, and he had, only after being struck magically. He had run, just like a coward. Maybe if he had stayed, if he had helped, Gorion would still be standing at his side, and they would be at a table, talking about how close they had come and how that ambush had almost got them… but no. He had run, fleeing in terror, and Gorion had died. Deep down, he knew it wouldn't have helped had he stayed. His magic was pathetic in comparison to Gorion's, and his presence there would only have been a distraction, Gorion having to split his attention between protecting him and fighting. Gorion had commanded him to run, but still… he felt like such a coward, so weak and helpless. It had never been Gorion they were after…_"__**Hand over your ward." **_It was Greywulf he wanted.

The dark, bass tone of the armored figure still resonated in the young wizard's mind. Greywulf shook his head once, wiping his eyes. He ignored Imoen's worried look, but instead motioned for them to keep moving, determination anew with the memories he saw. He would find the man who had stolen his life. Make him know the pain he'd caused Greywulf. He would find him and kill him, if it was the last thing he did. Even as the anger rushed through him, he heard Gorion's gentle voice returning to him, advising him after he had failed a cantrip three times and grown angry about it. His anger had fueled his concentration, and the spell had finally worked, though its results were a little more destructive than he had intended. He remembered Gorion looking at the devastation his spell had caused then telling him to do it again. He had asked Gorion why, and he had responded, _You may have performed the spell, but it was out of anger, not skill or talent. It's not always the results that matter, son. It's how you get to those results that counts. Don't let your anger control you, thinking it will make you stronger. Control it, and then you will be strong indeed._

Greywulf took a few deep breaths, letting the tightness in his chest dissipate, the same feeling he got every time he thought of the armored man, then returned Imoen's smile and began to make his way through the people of the bar.

"Who are we looking for again?" Imoen asked, looking around.

"Gorion told me that two of his friends were here. Um… Khalid and… Jaheira. That's right. Ever hear him mention them before?"

"No, but if they're friends of his, we'd best find them quick. I… I don't trust the two guys with us, Greywulf. I don't." Imoen responded with a whisper at the end, shivering and moving a little closer to Greywulf as she glanced back at the halfling thief and human wizard traveling behind them. Xzar and Montaron had agreed to travel to Nashkel with them, but they were more than they appeared, that much was plain. The halfling looked ready to murder them at a moment's notice, and judging by the half-crazed looks and nonsensical babbling that Xzar kept mumbling to himself, he was in all likelihood insane. Greywulf spared one more look to assure himself of their location, at the bar already spending money on ale, whereupon he hurried Imoen along, wishing to find Gorion's friends soon.

On the other side of the bar, two armored half-elves stood, watching silently but keenly. The man fidgeted slightly, a by-product of his nervousness, which despite his prowess in battle and the skill with which he wielded his blade, never seemed to leave him. The other figure glanced over and gave a grim smile, calming the nervous one down slightly. She sighed as she returned to looking for the two they were expecting. Gorion had an annoying knack of being able to sneak up on her and she was doing her best to avoid that this time.

"He did say it would be within the week, you know. T-there is no reason for them to arrive today, exactly." the man remarked.

"Gorion is said to have left Candlekeep at least two days ago. Unless he was delayed some how, he should have arrived already. This troubles me."

"Y-y-you worry too much, Jaheira. It does you no good to fret so, love." the man said, shifting his armor as he turned to face her.

"Perhaps, but I do not let things go as easily as you, my dear Khalid. Would that it were so, but it is not."

Khalid shrugged as they returned to watching, hoping to spot their Harper comrade. Gorion had only accompanied them on a few missions for the Harpers, but the three of them were good friends and kept in touch as best as their lives would let them. Gorion and Khalid had known each other before Jaheira had entered the service of the Harpers, before he and Jaheira had fallen in love and married. When Gorion had contacted them and asked that they meet him at the Friendly Arm Inn they had said yes without hesitation. He had not disclosed what would be happening, only that his ward would be accompanying him. Gorion had told them who Greywulf was when he had first rescued the child, though Jaheira's reaction was much less benevolent than Gorion's. Greywulf had been the source of many arguments between the two strong-willed Harpers, and Khalid had usually been caught in the middle, his devotion to the both of them pulling in separate directions.

Gorion had called them several times over the years to Candlekeep to observe him if only from a distance, asking their opinion on him. Truthfully, as much as Jaheira had wanted to say she saw evil in his heart… she never could. Granted, the taint was visible if one just knew how to look, but to a casual observer, he seemed a good-hearted boy. Gorion had brought the boy up well, teaching him the righteous path, but her mind was still anxious every time she and Khalid were called to see him. She had never understood just why Gorion had desired them to know Greywulf and trust him so much, but Gorion always planned for all contingencies. From the little Gorion had told her about this particular meeting, it sounded like much was about to take place, things of great darkness and peril, if the nervous tone in his letter was any indication. He had even gone so far as to request that if Greywulf met up with them alone, that if something happened to him… to let the boy lead. Jaheira had acquiesced after another long argument, but still inwardly balked. Khalid was probably right though… what could possibly stop Gorion? He was possibly the most powerful mage she knew, aside from the ones she had only heard of like Elminster and Khelben Blackstaff, but then again few achieved such fame without the power to back it up.

Before she could think back any further, a young man stepped out of the crowd, accompanied by a girl, no older than the youth. He tried to hide it, but the boy was obviously scared, and sneaking small glances at her and Khalid. They both looked barely into their twenties if that, and from their faces, she guessed they had the same level of experience, namely none. Khalid had noticed them too, and glanced over at Jaheira. He did not say anything, but she knew what he was thinking. The young man was undoubtedly the one they had seen grow over the years, but Gorion was nowhere to be seen. The girl was unknown to them, though Gorion had mentioned off hand a second ward of his, near the same age of Greywulf…

Greywulf had seen the two standing off alone and though still cautious, approached while trying not to seem overly interested, in case they weren't the ones he was looking for. Luckily, the woman didn't wait and instead stepped to meet them, "Excuse me…. You look familiar. Your manner is that of an old friend of mine, if I'm not mistaken. You are the ward of Gorion, are you not?"

"Aye, though Gorion is… he is no more. He was… killed, on the way here." Greywulf said through a tight voice.

"I am s-sorry for your loss. Many will mourn your father; he was a g-good man." the half elf male said, his head bowing.

"I feared as such when I did not see him with you- he would not have let you travel alone." she said grimly. "This does not bode well, if Gorion could not prevent such disaster."

"You… are the ones he told us to meet?" Imoen said hopefully.

The woman nodded and extended one hand. "That's right. This is Khalid, my husband. My name is Jaheira, and we will travel by your side, if you will have us…"

X X X X X X X

The memories of Greywulf's first meeting with Jaheira and Khalid faded from his mind as the Harper Hold came into view. Imoen and Greywulf had arrived at the gates of Athkatla in good time, leaving the rest of the group in Keldorn's capable hands. Greywulf had not taken the time to stop anywhere else, instead heading directly for their destination. They had downed all the potions of Haste at their disposal, exhausting themselves in the process, but the sorcerer would not stop, pulling Imoen on with him. They stopped outside and scanned the building, searching for any guards or watchers, like the first time they had arrived. The power they both held was greater perhaps, than when he had first been here, but fighting the Harpers would be no small task, especially if they were expecting him. Seeing as he wasn't being particularly sneaky in his approach, he had no doubt they were already preparing for his entrance now. As he studied the building, Imoen whispered, "So… how exactly we planning on doing this? Sneak through a window? Bash down the door? Dig a tunnel underground to pop inside? Gimme a plan here, I'm getting edgy."

Greywulf looked at Imoen who was smiling at him lopsidedly, then responded, "Well, I suppose we could just knock. I imagine they already know we're here, so I don't see why stealth should be paramount."

"Fair enough. And how exactly were you planning on bypassing the wards on the doors? I assume you already thought of a method…"

Greywulf winced just barely, trying not to give Imoen the satisfaction of knowing he hadn't actually considered the door wards. He had been so focused on getting Jaheira back he hadn't really been thinking of much other than her safety. She had been such an integral part of his life since losing Gorion, he didn't want to think of what would happen if she died. A vision of the Slayer ripping through Harpers, their swords and arrows powerless to stop him swam through his mind- he quickly pushed the thought away and responded to the expectant Imoen, "Wards can be brought down by powerful enough magic. Between the two of us, it might be enough. If not, then we'll try something else."

"Right." Imoen said, nodding with satisfaction. "So what you're really saying is that you didn't think about what you were doing when you decided to play the chivalrous knight off to rescue lady fair."

Greywulf brought a forced smile to his mouth and said, "You know what? Not helping."

"I know." Imoen replied with an overly sweet smile as they approached the door. Greywulf ran one hand over the hardwood of the door, then placed it flat against the door, beginning to whisper his magics. He frowned once, then released his grip, studying the door.

"Something wrong?" Imoen asked, worried.

"That's just it… nothing's wrong." Greywulf said with a frown. "The wards aren't activated, meaning that either someone was very careless…"

"Or we're walking into a trap." Imoen finished. "Solaufein would say 'I told you so' if he was here."

"Exactly." Greywulf smiled grimly. "It would be a shame to disappoint them. Let's go."

Greywulf opened the doors and stepped through, Imoen close behind with an arrow already drawn from her quiver and put to her string. The door closed gently behind them as their footsteps echoed on the marble floors of the main hall. The building was just as lavish as he had remembered from before, the fineries and luxuries still in place. The only thing different was the noticeable lack of people. Not one person was to be found inside, not guarding the stairs, studying the tomes on the desks, nothing.

"This is strange." Greywulf murmured as they entered the hall. "They would not let us pass so lightly, not without some manner of opposition or confrontation. This place, these halls were crowded, filled with people the last time I was here."

"Maybe they're having a convention elsewhere?" Imoen suggested as the two stepped further into the center of the marble hall. Greywulf looked around for a few more seconds, then raised his quarterstaff and shouted, "Followers of the Harp! Hearken to me! Gorion's ward has come, and I demand justice for my comrade! Show yourself!"

His voice echoed off the walls of the room, but no one appeared, their presence still left unchallenged. Greywulf motioned for her to follow him as they searched the room thoroughly but quickly, hoping to find some clue as to Jaheira's whereabouts, or where everyone had gone. None was forthcoming; as they searched, Imoen let out a small gasp, Greywulf coming to see what was the matter. Imoen was backing away from a chest when he saw her, disgust on her face. The smell of death was in the air, and flies seemed to be buzzing from the chest's contents.

"Don't worry… it's not Jaheira…" Imoen said faintly, as Greywulf stepped forward to peer inside the chest. He breathed shallowly as he closed the chest back up and said, "Xzar and Montaron... the Harpers brought their corpses back here. Why?"

"Who knows with these people." Imoen said in disgust as Greywulf shut the chest. "Maybe to keep the Zhents from resurrecting them like before? Let's just keep moving."

Minutes passed, trudging along like hours. Added to the exhaustion weighing them down, it seemed like an eternity before they were thoroughly convinced Jaheira was nowhere to be found on the lower floor. Greywulf rested on his quarterstaff, looking this way and that, trying to keep an eye out for any surprises. "I guess that leaves the upstairs. I had hoped it wouldn't come to that."

"I'm guessing the upstairs are bad." Imoen mentioned offhandedly, looking toward the staircase as they walked toward its winding path. "Why?"

"Let's just say the only reason we survived last time was Aerie's ability to turn the undead... and she's not here right now. Spirits of dead Harpers... very powerful, very fast. Don't split up, we'll have a better chance at beating them together." he told her grimly.

"There's another option, you know." Imoen suggested. "They might've taken her somewhere else after she arrived. You know, so we couldn't follow?"

The sorcerer did not look at her as she replied. "Possibly... but unlikely. She's still here... and so are the Harpers."

"Why are you so sure?" Imoen frowned as they began to climb the stairway.

He motioned behind him with one thumb. "Somebody had to light the fireplace."

The crackle of the burning logs in the marble fireplace was the only noise aside from their footsteps as they reached the top, Greywulf looking for any sign of the Spectral Harpists that had opposed them last. He went first with quarterstaff at guard, Imoen backpedaling with her bow drawn, guarding Greywulf's flank. She scanned the room before her as they ascended, her eyes watching for the slightest motion from any of the numerous pillars and bookcases, but nothing was forthcoming. She reluctantly turned and followed her brother through the halls of the upstairs floor; they still remained wary, awaiting an attack from the Spectral Harpist guardians. Each movement was a threat, every noise a warning. Still nothing- Greywulf intoned the words to a True Sight, just in case... the spell dissipated, revealing nothing.

They crept through slowly, passing by numerous tables and desks, the same as it had been when Greywulf had visited the first time. Though they were still constantly waiting for the attack, they were slowly relaxing, the building seemingly abandoned. Suddenly, Imoen noticed Greywulf stiffen, his body tense with something though Imoen couldn't see what. Looking to where his eyes were fixed, she saw the prone form of Jaheira, lying upon a long couch, her eyes closed and body motionless. Her magical spear was lying on the ground beside her, though her armor had been removed and rested with her weapon. She was clothed in her tan and gray leather tunic, along with the accompanying leggings and high boots she usually wore. Her hair was still up in the braids she had been wearing when Greywulf had seen her last, along with the two customary arm and wrist bands she liked to wear when not in full armor.

Greywulf darted towards her after a quick once over to make sure there were no obvious traps or dangers that might still be lurking. Imoen followed, still watching their backs but excited to see their companion nonetheless. Greywulf knelt beside her and put his hand on her neck and heart, finding her pulse and heartbeat. He breathed a sigh of relief to find her life still strong, where Imoen whispered, "What's going on? If she's alive, then…"

Greywulf watched her for a second more, then laughed softly in relief. "She's asleep, that's what. Magical sleep, I'd guess, seeing as she hasn't reacted to our presence."

"Which suggests this was all one big setup." Imoen said sternly. "They tricked her into coming here, knowing you'd follow."

"Probably. Either way, we need to get her up and moving, then we'll worry about the Harpers." Greywulf said, putting one hand over her eyes as he began a dispelling magic.

"You know, all the stories talk about waking the sleeping damsel with a kiss…" Imoen whispered, Greywulf ignoring the jibe; her eyes fluttered open slowly, Greywulf opening his mouth to speak- Jaheira's hand darted out, clutching his throat as she sat up in a lurch, rearing one fist back to strike.

Imoen leapt forward in alarm, holding the druid's fist back as realization slowly dawned in her eyes- she let go of the half-elf immediately, Greywulf coughing as he took a step back, Jaheira looking to both of them in a mixture of anger and confusion. "What are both of you doing here? I told you not to follow me!"

"What can I say... I'm a horrible listener." Greywulf managed, finally getting his wind back. "I certainly hope you were expecting someone else when you woke up..."

"I... yes, well." she said, calming slightly, though she did not lose any of the fire in her eyes as she looked around the room suspiciously. "I am sorry. But you should not be here. Either of you. This was all a trap, and the fact that you both are here means that it worked just as planned. Where are the others?"

"Still on their way to Athkatla- we told them we'd find you while they searched for allies to fight Bodhi." Imoen offered, shooting Greywulf a glare. "I wouldn't even be here if I hadn't insisted. He wanted to come alone."

Jaheira muttered a curse as she grabbed her armor, donning it quickly and taking hold of her spear in a fluid motion, still scanning the room for enemies. "This was all a mistake. I should have known better- I let my emotions get the better of me; I forgot whom I could trust yet again. I am sorry."

"I thought this was what you wanted." Greywulf shook his head, trying to understand.

"Dermin's appearance made me think that I would still be able to atone with the true Harpers. That was what I sought here- as soon as I entered the building I realized that these are not they." She shook her head. "I think revenge is more a factor here. The true Harpers have abandoned this garish place. Notice the lack of Spectral Harpists? They would not have left their post unless it was no longer to be guarded."

"It probably still is guarded- if both our instincts are right, we won't be able to walk out of this place easily." Greywulf warned.

Jaheira nodded with a frown, "We may still be hunted, too. When I arrived here, Dermin was nowhere to be seen- only men and women who wore the robes and the symbols of Harpers but were somehow... different. Their stance was different, their manner. They told me to wait for Dermin upstairs... I have not been close to him for some time, but he would not delegate me in such a way. I refused, and the men downstairs forced a battle. I killed several before I was forced to retreat... upstairs. There was a magical trap that overwhelmed me... no doubt causing the sleep you found me in."

"So do you know whose side Dermin is really on?" Imoen asked. "Cause I've made up my mind about him, and if I see him he's getting one warning and then an arrow through the skull. Or a fireball."

Jaheira tossed her a tight smile, then shook her head. "I... I do not know. Not yet. I do know that those we kill in self-defense may look like Harpers, but they are not. Not anymore. We have no choice, and I will not feel guilt over this tangled web any longer. But enough talk... the longer we stay here the more chance they have to trap us once more. Our exit will undoubtedly be treacherous."

He nodded to her, and together the three of them moved to the stairs, descending to the main floor once more. Laid out before them was an impressive force- nearly fifteen armed men, bearing bows, swords, magic and might. One man stood at lead, dressed in dark robes and wearing a pendant in the shape of a Harp. "Oy! Ye've eluded us long enough, god-spawn! Prepare to meet Harper justice!"

Greywulf looked back at Jaheira- she shook her head, eyes narrowing in preparation for battle. He nodded in satisfaction and vaulted off the side of the stairs to land on the main floor in a crouch- Jaheira descended the path quickly behind him. Imoen stayed on the stairway and drew two arrows from her quiver, bringing both to the bow at once. Greywulf straightened up, his cloak drawing up around him as he arose to his full height. He whipped his cloak behind him with a flourish, dropping his quarterstaff. Two arrows leapt out from over their heads- it was as good a signal as any- Greywulf ran forward alongside Jaheira, pushing away the exhaustion in his bones as he shouted words of power, lightning crackling in both of his hands.

Magic and power shone through the room, arrows sang and a spear struck again and again. It was over before it began.


	77. Part 3: Fading Trust, Growing Love

"Well well... it would seem that the reports of your demise were quite exaggerated. How... intriguing." the scarred man sitting opposite Keldorn, Aerie, Minsc and Solaufein quirked a smile as he looked at the adventurers. "To tell the truth, I'm surprised to see you here. Stealing Aran's ship, surviving an attack by the Githyanki, then braving and apparently conquering the Underdark, if your new choice of companion is any indication. You're either the bravest men and women I've ever seen... or the stupidest."

"Was that a compliment? Minsc does not know whether he should prepare to fight for his honor." the ranger said, peering down at Renal Bloodscalp, the thief lieutenant shrugging mildly. It had taken them almost a day and a half, but the four of them had followed behind Greywulf and Imoen, finally arriving in Athkatla. The trip had been exhausting to make at one go, and they'd spent the night upon arrival at the Crooked Crane, right inside the city gates.

Despite concern for their absentee companions, they did as Greywulf had suggested and sought out aid for their upcoming war against Bodhi and her vampire cabal, assuming she was truly in Athkatla. The Shadow Thieves were their first stop- the Docks were just as seedy as they had remembered, though it certainly brought less attention to their drow companion. A cloak purchased at the Adventurer's Mart provided the elf with a few more protective qualities as well as a size that actually fit him. One quick stop at Cromwell's forge to deposit the blade of the elves, and they were off. Upon meeting with the Shadow Thief guard outside they had been brought to the Bloodscalp, though it was quite clear that, at least in Keldorn's case, they had little patience for the pleasantries of their past associates.

"We're here to see Aran Linvail. Kindly inform your master that we've arrived." the paladin replied stiffly, a furrow of mild irritation crossing his usually unflappable calm. Aerie gave him a glance- he was usually so much more calm, collected. Perhaps it was the atmosphere of the Shadow Thief guild, or an effect of the disagreement between him and Greywulf, but it was... unsettling, to see him this way.

"Of course you are. The question is whether the Shadow Master desires to see you." Renal tossed back slyly. "You did, after all, betray his trust, stealing his ship and embarking on your own vendetta against Irenicus at our expense. Most people would think twice before returning to Aran Linvail's doorstep after such an audacious move."

"We are not most people, human." Solaufein growled quietly- as always, it was a move that always seemed to come out of nowhere and be so much more forceful than the loudness of his voice would suggest; it was strangely intimidating, and Renal Bloodscalp was not immune. He seemed to lose some of his self-confidence as the drow warrior spoke, never moving, never threatening, just speaking softly as he stood stock still behind Aerie and Keldorn. "Stop wasting our time and tell this 'Shadow Master' we are here."

"Yes... as you wish." Renal said, recovering quickly from the momentary lapse. He whistled, pointing at one of the thief guards across the room. "Caeden! Go let Aran know who's come to see him."

The thief nodded and sprinted out of the room- Renal watched with a chuckle, then turned his attention back to the party. "I'm sure he won't be half a tick- do make yourselves comfortable. You've certainly earned a few amenities at our expense. I dare say, you all have the most uncanny luck I've ever seen."

"Not luck! Heart, heroism and a glass full of butt-kicking are what strike fear into the hearts of villains when they hear the names of Minsc and Boo." the ranger shook his head, refusing to sit until Aerie was given a chair to seat herself, then reclining next to her.

"Well put, ranger." Renal acquiesced. "I do note that there are a few of your number missing. I would hope it a tactical decision on your part, a temporary argument at worse."

"Or none of your concern." Aerie said with forced politeness. "What makes you think that we split up because of an argument?"

The sound of a door swinging open behind them caught their attention. "Nothing, really. Just a hunch when I spoke with them earlier today." Behind them, clad in green cloak and the finery his station could afford, stood Aran Linvail, master of the Shadow Thieves.

"Ah! Told you Caeden t'would be quick." Renal said with a smile. "I'm sure these need no introductions- you remember them well enough, sir?"

"I do, Bloodscalp... that will be all." Aran said, eyes narrowing as Renal coughed once, bowing once before ducking out of the room. He caught Solaufein's red eyes, cocking his head slightly in curiosity. "Although you are a new face... I don't believe we've had the pleasure. Aran Linvail, at your service."

The drow looked at the hand offered him- he turned his gaze back up to Aran's, ignoring the proffered greeting. "Solaufein."

Linvail arched one eyebrow, nodded in acceptance, pulling his hand back. "Well then. I must say that your return was... doubtful. After you left... rather, stole Havarian's ship, I half wondered if you would ever reach the island, much less survive. It is good to see you have done that and more."

"You can save the lies, Aran." Keldorn cut past his words, pushing to the heart of the matter. "We know what your intentions were when you sent us to Spellhold. Irenicus dead, Bodhi dead... and us dead. It seems the outcome was less than favorable for you, truly."

"Not to mention that your so called captain betrayed us." Aerie glared, her arms folded.

The Shadow Thief let the corner of his lips turn upwards, the man chuckling lightly before pursing his lips, shaking his head condescendingly. "He betrayed you, did he? I can't quite say I'm surprised... he betrayed me after all, and with all due respect, I command a much higher regard and fear than you do in this city. Now don't begin pointing fingers just yet... I assure you, Havarian was not one of my men in the slightest. Had he been, you would never have made it off the Docks."

"Yet you took all our gold and hired him, didn't tell us what a scoundrel he was, and even made us work for you for the privilege of sailing with him." Keldorn shook his head. "You seem quite content to let us take the fall for your missteps."

"I did tell you that few ships dare to visit Brynnlaw, and you saw the type of person who haunts the place. Havarian was the best available, I'm afraid. And you do have your companion back, if my eyes didn't deceive me. That was your goal, correct? Safe and in one piece… well, minus her soul. Would that I had a spare, but 'tis not the traffic I deal in. A shame, seeing as I paid Havarian extra to keep you safe, gold that was apparently wasted." Aran shook his head in disgust, turning to a cabinet on the far side of the room, searching through numerous bottles as he removed a glass. "I have devoted some effort to tracking him down and making him... pay, for his misdeeds, but those efforts have proved rather futile. He is quite difficult to find when he does not want to be."

"You said it again... that you'd seen the others today." Solaufein spoke up, unhooding himself at last. "The others were here? Greywulf... and Imoen?"

"Oh, yes." Aran said with a smile, finally selecting a bottle, uncorking it and pouring himself three fingers' worth. "Wine? No? Very well then- forgive me if I indulge myself while we speak. Ah... an excellent year, this. Now then, as you were saying. Three of your number came by late last night- this morning really. A little worse for the wear, but no harm done. Greywulf, Jaheira, and Imoen- lovely girl, really. I offered her a place in our ranks... among other things. The offer was, however, rather forcefully declined."

"I can imagine." Keldorn let a smile creep on his own face as he replied.

"Regardless, they told me that you four would be dropping by sometime... which you have. They did, however, leave me rather intrigued as to why I've been visited by this intrepid group lately. A reminder of my own humanity, perhaps? Seeing the results of the gold we spent in bringing you to Brynnlaw?"

"They didn't tell you why we've come?" Aerie asked with a frown.

"No... they seemed in quite the hurry, honestly." Linvail downed the rest of his wine, setting the glass on the table before turning back to them. "Go on then. Enlighten me... why have you come here, risking both life and limb should I have proven more inhospitable to your presence?"

"I think you know already." Keldorn retorted, refusing to let Aran intimidate him. "This place is as on-edge as it was when we visited the first time... your men look just as worn and tired as ever. Your war against Bodhi's guild hasn't ended, it's only escalated. They don't need prisoners anymore... now they're just trying to wipe you out."

Linvail listened for a moment, his eyes narrowing at Keldorn's tone... he exhaled deeply, nodding with a surprising amount of what could only be construed as weariness in his shoulders. "You are correct. We swept through each District, destroying the vampires as we went, taking back all our lost territory in a matter of days. Each step forward cost us lives and material, but we thought the price was worth it. They were scattered, unorganized without Bodhi to direct them... and it wasn't long before the only part of the city that remained inhabited by the undead was the Graveyards."

"And you held back. You didn't finish the job." Solaufein finished. "Such foolishness has killed many of my former friends... and enemies."

"I can only imagine." Aran replied, his face grim. "But we are not drow, nor are we as ruthless as some might think. The members of the guild were tired... we had lost so many already. I gave the order to clean out the catacombs Bodhi had made her lair within and that was it. We stopped. It was a mistake, I fear, that might be the undoing of us all."

"She came back, didn't she." Aerie said quietly- not a question, just a matter of fact.

"Several days ago, one of our parties didn't come back from their raid on a house in the Government District." Aran reported. "We sent two spies to find them... they turned up missing as well. Finally I sent Arkanis and a force of assassins and spies. Arkanis barely escaped with his life. He spoke of a force of nearly fifty vampires sweeping through his men, striking them down with ease... and Bodhi at lead, a viciousness to her strikes that he had never seen before."

"What have you done to combat her so far?" Keldorn asked with grim determination, their common enemy erasing any enmity between the two men.

"I have shored up our territory, which, as it stands, is still the majority of the city. She has no major strongholds aside from the Graveyard District... although it simply means she can devote every creature she commands to its defense. We've also begun attempts at finding her new lair, but to no avail. The spies who made it into the catacombs found no sign of her coffin... if we knew which set of tunnels beneath the graves belonged to the vampire we could make a strike and end this before she grows too powerful, but as it stands it would be folly to commit any sort of force." Aran Linvail, Shadow Master of Athkatla, sighed and strode to Renal's chair, seating himself as he clasped his fingers together at his chin. "Now then. You came to me, already knowing what is taking place in the city. I presume you did not simply desire to gloat over the losses I have suffered... and from what she did to your Imoen; I know that you seek her blood as much as I. We have both attempted to kill this vampire on our own... we have both failed. What do you suggest we do?"

"As Shadowmaster, we assumed that you would have the best idea of where to find her." Keldorn said with a frown, thinking hard. "Our attempt to destroy her last time nearly worked... given more manpower, I believe it can succeed this time around. With the backing of the Shadow Thieves and the Order of the Radiant Heart, we will leave nothing to chance. If you can find her, we will bring our combined assault to her doorstep and end it."

"You would bring your fellow knights into this war as well?" Aran asked, a hint of mild surprise showing on his face. "Will they truly work beside my rogues, or should I tell them to scatter as soon as the battle is through?"

"It may not be easy for some, but if an old war horse like me can do it, I'll personally ensure that the others do as well. The greater evil and all that." Keldorn smiled tightly. "Can we count on your assassins in battle?"

Aran shifted his posture, twisting one ring on his left hand. "In truth, I have been planning for this counter-offensive for some time now. Arkanis has been training the best of my assassins to fight the vampires- comprising an elite guard, so to speak. They only number fifteen... but they're the best we have, and should they perish without Bodhi's death, this war will be over. I'm taking quite the risk here, paladin."

They didn't speak for a moment, and they feared that he was going to deny them his service- he spoke at last, nodding firmly. "You'll have my assassins at your side. I wish for this matter to be settled, and I refuse to make the same mistake twice. We will make certain she stays dead this time around."

"Agreed." Keldorn finally extended his hand, shaking Aran's. "We will search out other allies while you hunt for Bodhi's lair, so you might have to do a bit of searching to find us when you are ready."

"Fair enough." Aran said with a bow. "If you'll excuse me, I must begin preparations. Finding her lair has suddenly taken on... new importance. When I have contacted you, take heed and arrive as soon as possible. Arkanis, Yachmoto and the others in my elite guard will meet you there. Good luck."

They were escorted out by several Shadow Thieves, set back in the Docks, their path heading back towards the Copper Coronet. Minsc inhaled the air deeply, smiling broadly as they left the Docks behind. "Minsc feels better. Entering such a shady den of thieves... Minsc can smell the corruption! And fish... lots of salty fish."

"I have... I have never seen the ocean before." Solaufein uttered quietly, taking one last glance back at the sparkling ocean water in the far distance. "There were underground lakes, pools several miles long and wide in the Underdark, but nothing... nothing like this. It is quite... beautiful."

"I guess so." Aerie replied quietly. "We on the surface see it so often... I can see how seeing it for the first time could be breathtaking. I'm glad you enjoyed it."

He did not reply- he merely coughed once, recovering his head with the hood on his cloak, falling in step with Aerie as the four of them kept moving. Minsc looked down at Keldorn, the ranger frowning in confusion as he looked at Keldorn's distant- and disturbed- expression. "Keldorn? Is something wrong?"

The paladin looked up, seemingly shocked out of his own thoughts by the ranger's question. "Hmm? No... just concerned. Wondering what could have caused the others to be in such a hurry that they could not even be bothered to tell Linvail about our mission. It does not sound right... I hope everything is all right."

"Aran said they were okay when they arrived." Aerie voiced. "Maybe they came across some sort of quest or mission to take care of... it sounds like something Greywulf would do."

"It does, doesn't it." Keldorn smiled wryly, but it quickly faded. "No, I fear for the others... and for us, too. Jaheira may be back with us... but the price could be higher than we know. The Harpers would not have conceded so easily... nor so quickly. Not without bloodshed."

"Who are these... Harpers?" Solaufein asked quietly. "Why do they hunt Jaheira so?"

"The Harpers are a group of... I'm not quite sure what to call them, really." Keldorn sighed. "They say they fight for balance... fighting both great good and great evil. Keeping an unsteady peace, as it were. I cannot deny the good they have done at times, but... I would not call them ally. Jaheira was once a member of their ranks, though Greywulf's heritage brought them into opposition with him. Jaheira made a choice... and whether it was the right one or not, it has made her a pariah to her kin."

Solaufein listened quietly, then nodded in understanding. "I can understand... no doubt my kindred below ground curse the name of Solaufein as we speak. Knowing that you made the right decision does not make the choice any less difficult... nor living with that choice."

"I must admit, Solaufein... I-I'm kind of surprised. Not that I didn't expect you to be wise or... or deep! I just... well-" Aerie's words kind of tumbled out of her mouth, unsure of what she had been trying to say, her attempted compliment quickly turning poor. The drow shook his head, ignoring the poorly worded attempts.

"Forget it. We all have our preconceptions... I do not expect you to ignore or forget them simply because I travel amongst you now. " His head dipped slightly, covering his face as a group of drunks passed by, staggering back and forth across the street as they entered the archway of the Slums District. "In truth, I much enjoyed the things of art and poetry... such as it was in Ust Natha. Not that I had much time to indulge myself. There was always another battle to be fought, or another plot to be foiled... ahem. Is this the place?"

Aerie broke off from listening to him speak, looking up at the familiar sign, that faded coin above the doorframe of the Copper Coronet. She smiled and nodded, following behind Minsc as the four of them entered their long standing haven in Athkatla. The same burst of raucousness, the same smells of drunk carousing and sounds of rowdy merrymaking; it hadn't changed a bit. A cry of familiarity and greeting echoed across the room, Minsc calling back in joy as Hendak pushed his way across the room, the burly blonde-haired gladiator embracing the ranger in a massive bear hug- one of the few people able to do so without being somewhat... discomforted under the sheer strength of Minsc's arms.

He shook Keldorn's hand vigorously and bowed to Aerie, his thick accent unable to hide the pleasure in his voice at seeing them. "My friends, it does me good to see you alive and well. For some time it had seemed that you had fallen off the face of this earth entirely. Bernard and I worried for your safety many a day while after you departed to rescue your friend."

"You know us." Aerie smiled as she leaned in to hug the gentle warrior as well. "Hendak, this is our new companion... Solaufein."

The drow elf eyed Hendak, and it would appear to begin with that his reaction would be much the same to the other surfacers he had met outside of the party- Hendak did not hesitate but leaned in and grabbed Solaufein's hand, shaking it firmly. "Any friend of these men and women is welcome here. You are no exception. I am Hendak, and it is an honor to meet you."

"I... thank you." Solaufein replied slowly, finally returning the gesture. As he let go, Keldorn spoke to the gladiator, resting one gauntleted hand on his shoulder. "You say you've seen Greywulf and the others. Could you let them know we've arrived?"

Hendak's face grew troubled; Keldorn noticed immediately, his own countenance falling with it. "Hendak, what's wrong?"

"You have not heard the news, having been gone for so long. Dark times have fallen upon Amn... armies of orcs sweeping through the hill countries and plains outside the city. News has come of a great evil awakening in the hills near the De'Arnise Lands... two times has the castle been attacked since it was first freed and placed under the rule of Nalia De'Arnise. Both times the orcs invading were repelled, but the latest threat- an army of nearly five thousand, if the reports are true, marches on them as we speak. Nalia came here, looking for you and your leader-"

"And she found Greywulf, Jaheira, and Imoen." Keldorn finished, suppressing a curse as he inhaled sharply. "She took the others with her?"

"Yes." Hendak confirmed. "They left here in a hurry, only stopping to leave instruction for me to tell you of the situation. I do not know what they intend to do- I advised Greywulf to wait for you to arrive, but he would not be dissuaded; they left early this morning after a small meal."

"Which sounds quite passable." the paladin calmed himself quickly, forcing a smile. "If we're to catch up to the others, we'll need to leave quickly as well. Still, it would hardly do to leave without at least one meal- if you wouldn't mind, Hendak..."

"Of course not!" the man smiled and moved to head towards the kitchen. "As always, the meal is on the house!"

"And as always, I must insist we pay our own share." Keldorn called back, Hendak laughing as he disappeared from sight. Keldorn grabbed a chair at a nearby table, exhaling deeply as he rubbed his eyes. Minsc raised one eyebrow, looking at the burdened man. "Is something wrong? Boo says you do not look well."

"I am fine, Minsc." Keldorn replied, but his face and voice were nothing if not troubled- there were hard lines over his eyes, his jaw set and clenched. "We must hurry, though. We have little time to waste, if we are to catch up to the others. Greywulf... he might have doomed us all."

"Wait... what are you talking about?" Aerie asked with a hint of alarm in her voice.

"Open your eyes, Aerie... he hasn't called us to aid them evacuate, to make certain they get out all right; I have no doubt that he's agreed to help defend the Keep. We are not an army... but he will try and make us into one." Keldorn sighed, shaking his head.

"We don't know this..." Aerie frowned, suddenly forced to defend the sorcerer from Keldorn's insinuation. "What if he did just agree to help Nalia get her people to safety?"

"Because he's different." Keldorn cut her off, struggling to quiet his own spirit, refusing to take out the growing frustration he felt on Aerie. "I... Forgive me Aerie- I do not mean to bark at you. I fear my temper grows short in recent days. Regardless though... he is different. Ever since the Underdark- perhaps you do not see it, but I have kept watch. Made certain nothing would slip my notice. He has become... reckless. More willing to endanger himself and others. His judgment is impaired, and I fear the reasons why. As for Jaheira and Imoen... I would hope they did not simply let him undertake this venture, but Imoen's loyalty to Greywulf runs deep, and Jaheira... I just do not know."

"Minsc does not agree." the ranger shook his head gravely. "Greywulf is Minsc's friend... I trust him with mine and Boo's life. He will not lead us into harm. You will see."

"I pray you are right, Minsc." the venerable paladin quieted, the tenseness in his broad shoulders relaxing some, but still present. "For all our sakes."

X X X X X X X

Greywulf stoked the glowing embers of the campfire they sat by in the plains outside Athkatla, a little less than halfway to De'Arnise Keep. It was a road they had traveled before, and they knew about how long it would take them to get there, another day's worth of travel ahead of them at least. The other three would be following close behind within the next few days, but they could not afford to wait. If what Nalia said was true, aid was needed immediately. He glanced over to see the young noble chatting with Imoen, their faces illuminated by the orange flames licking the wood chips and logs he had just moved about. Nalia's desperate cry for help could not be turned aside, no matter how urgent the cause of the elves proved. Besides, it would take Aran Linvail time to locate Bodhi's lair... time that could be spent fighting this evil that threatened Nalia's kingdom. The noble had been frantically searching Athkatla for weeks, looking to find them again, but what with their journey into the Underdark and back, it was if they had disappeared off the face of Faerun... which in a sense, they had.

"I cannot thank you enough for coming to our aid yet again." Nalia sighed quietly, brushing some of the locks of her hair out of her eyes, the yellow and blue striped scarf around her robe glimmering in the firelight. "Things have been… difficult since you left. We had assembled a new guard for the castle, nearly five hundred strong, and under the leadership of Captain Arat, refortification and rebuilding went quickly. We did what we could to prepare for another assault, although we could find no sign of the mastermind behind the last invasion. Not a month had passed by before word was brought to us of a mass of orcs assembling near the Windspear borderlands. We kept a careful eye on the threat, but it seemed far enough away to disregard."

"I'm guessing that proved to be a mistake." Greywulf replied quietly, trying to give a comforting smile.

"Truly." she explained. "We could not have been more wrong. What our scouts didn't see was a second force assembling near the Umar Hills- they only traveled by night and through back paths and roads. We would have been taken completely unaware but by chance, when a late caravan with rebuilding supplies spotted them en route on of the few trade roads they happened to travel within sight of. They arrived only hours before the orcs- our defenses were erected just in time. The large force attacked as soon as the first had been repelled, assuming we would be ravaged and worn by the first hit, but the defenses held against both, repelling the orcs with minimal losses."

"Orcs marauding through the countryside freely? This has not taken place in generations!" Jaheira frowned, sitting upon a large rock with one leg folded underneath her while the other rested on the ground, bent at the knee. She shook her head in disbelief and irritation, leaning forward with spear in hand as she spoke. "Where are the soldiers of Amn, the knights of the Radiant Heart? Surely they would not allow such a threat to go unchecked."

"We never had the chance to send riders before we were under siege." Nalia said, shaking her head. "Much of the Amnish military is still trying to recover from the recent conflict with Baldur's Gate, and the paladins of the Radiant Heart have been called to deal with two other attacks on settlements near Saradush and Celterdale. They were dispatched nearly a week before we first heard of the orcs presence. Even if we could spare the riders to go for help, it would be too late now. A force of nearly five thousand moves towards the Keep, and will be there within a matter of days at least."

"Five thousand against barely five hundred." Imoen breathed deeply. "Nalia, you know we'll do anything we can to help... but I don't know what you really expect us to do. It seems like retreating might be the wise option to go with here."

"Would you have me give up so easily?" Nalia said defensively, her hazel eyes flashing in anger. "Abandon my home and my people? I will not leave the keep to be simply overtaken and overrun by these... these curs!"

"Easy... it's not like that." Greywulf placated, raising one hand as he leaned back, straightening up as he rested both hands on his knees. "We'll help you resist this invasion, and find out who's behind all this. We just need to put this in perspective... get a feel for what we're really trying to do here."

"I- I'm sorry." Nalia tried to calm herself, forcing a sad smile onto her features. "This has not been easy for any of us. I had thought our troubles might be over when you rescued us the first time- I only ever wanted to help the common folk, the poor and helpless in my own land... but sometimes it seems impossible."

"It might seem so... but it's not. Believe me, when you've done as much as we have... you begin to realize that impossible is only slightly more difficult than improbable." Greywulf flashed her a grin, building confidence within the noble's heart.

"I suppose you are right... I only wish we knew who was behind this. We could end it all if we struck at the heart of this plot, rather than waiting forever for this... this villain to reveal himself. Or herself."

"Did you find any leads on who might have done this? Anything at all?" Imoen asked, leaning closer to Nalia.

"My father had a lot of enemies… but that's normal for someone of his position. Isaea Roenal, a nearby lord was trying to wed me for many months after the keep's invasion, hoping to become lord of these lands, but even a snake like him would not have such audacity as this." Nalia shook her head. "There is nobody."

"Stressing over the identity of this unseen figure will do us no good tonight." Greywulf said, leaning over to push a crumbling log over, trying to get the last few minutes of warmth from the fire before adding a new log. "I see you are weary, Nalia. We may be used to these kinds of hours, but I doubt you are. No offense to you of course, milady, just an observation. We could all use some extra sleep tonight- we'll need an early start. If we do so now, we can wake by the morn."

"Sounds like a plan." Imoen said with a yawn, stretching her arms as she did. "I haven't gone to sleep this early since… I don't remember, actually."

Greywulf suppressed a laugh, then stood and clutched his quarterstaff, turning to face a nearby hill. He squinted into the darkness, letting his eyes focus what limited infravision he possessed, then found his target. Wrapping his cloak around himself, he started walking, only pausing when Nalia craned her head to look at him, asking, "Where are you going?"

He pointed into the darkness, aiming at the hillside, quite indistinguishable from everything else to the noble's vision. "All this talking and the campfire heat has given me something of a thirst. There's a small spring flowing directly out the hillside a few hundred yards up the cliffs- we found it the last time we traveled this way. I'm going to get a drink and refill my waterskin."

"Wait a minute- I'll come with ya." Imoen said, beginning to climb to her feet- he pushed out gently with his quarterstaff, nudging her back to the ground.

"You should get some rest- I'll be just fine, believe me." Greywulf tsked, Imoen glaring at him. He shrugged- in response, Imoen's empty waterskin hit him in the face, Greywulf nimbly catching it before it hit the ground. Jaheira and Nalia glanced at each other- their waterskins followed suit, though the aim was a bit kinder than Imoen's. "Right. I'll be back within the hour. Don't wait up." He tucked the slings of each waterskin over his shoulder and stamped his quarterstaff into the ground once. It began glowing with a pale white light, leading his path as he set off towards the hills he had pointed out. As soon as he was a little over a hundred feet off, Imoen let out a quiet snicker and began creeping as quickly and quietly as possible towards the hillside as well, only a little to the right of Greywulf's position.

"Now where are you going?" demanded Nalia.

"Where do you think?" Imoen replied, looking genuinely surprised that she even had asked. "To sneak up there ahead of Greywulf and give him a scare! Just a little retribution for that poke he gave me. I'll be fine... don't wait up for me, either."

She giggled again before continuing her fast paced sneak/crawl, leaving Jaheira and Nalia by the fire, the druid shaking her head in acceptance of the antics of the two, Nalia simply puzzled.

"She is the one you were gathering gold to rescue?" Nalia asked, trying to catch a glimpse of the rapidly disappearing Imoen. Greywulf was still easily visible, thanks to the magical light he had summoned- she was extraordinarily fast, and would overtake his position in moments. "I think that in the end, it might have been for the better that I did not accompany you. With things as they have been at home, the Keep would surely have fallen to either the Roenal's or whoever else is after it."

"Perhaps…" Jaheira shrugged, standing and spreading her blankets out aside the fire, preparing the cot she would rest in that night. "We all have a place of duty we must hold to, even if it clashes with our desires. Things work out as they should in the end, as they are meant to be if we do what is our duty. Divergence from one's path, forcing imbalance rarely brings about an end of good."

"But... surely that can't be true in all respects." Nalia frowned. "If I were to simply accept my life as a noble, I'd be one of those snobs who hold themselves above everyone else- I know that's not what I'm supposed to be. I would think that your duty is the same, no matter what station or place you have. I'm no expert at keeping 'the great balance', but it seems to me that you don't have to be set in one path and life to be in balance."

Jaheira opened her mouth to speak again, ready to rebuke Nalia and patiently give the lecture on balance she had said so many times… but instead she paused and considered Nalia's statements for the moment. Jaheira had been so used to defending the idea of balance for so long, her place and duties set in stone for her life, that it was hard for her to accept otherwise, even when her own place in life was as unsteady as the waves in a tempest at sea. Things she thought were solid, unchanging forces in her life had been altered dramatically, leaving her adrift. She should be completely lost, wandering and unable to perform her duties as a druid of the balance. And yet… here she was, still fighting for what she believed, even though it went against her place as a Harper and all she had based her life in. Things she never would have thought possible were happening, and feelings she would have scoffed at in her usual way of thinking were creeping into her everyday mind. In many ways, the very philosophy she had effortlessly quoted to Nalia and professed to live by was not reflected in her actions.

Nalia watched Jaheira remain motionless for a few more seconds, the only sound that of the wood crackling with the flames. She finally ventured, "Jaheira?"

Jaheira laughed quietly though humorlessly, then replied, "Your words hold merit, Nalia. More so than I had given them credit for. Sleep well; I shall await the return of Greywulf and Imoen and keep the fire steady."

Nalia was slightly puzzled by Jaheira's abrupt termination of the conversation, but she was really too tired to ponder all that much, and she was quickly wrapped in her own bedding, shivering as she attempted to sleep in the cool night air. Meanwhile, Jaheira's mind was racing through the implications of Nalia's words. Perhaps if she was right, things did not have to be as she had forced them so… she did not have to push him away as she had done so often. She thought of the excuses, the reasoning she had conjured each time she feared Greywulf was drawing too close to her heart, stifling any chance for their relationship to go deeper, to see what was really there. She remembered the absolute despair she had felt when she thought Greywulf lost, the mind numbing pain and weight upon her. She had spent so many hours wishing she could have said so much to him before he was gone, wishing for just another five minutes to let him know how much she cared about him. It was so similar to the feeling she had when Khalid had died and yet, as soon as he had returned, the walls went up again, defensive and wary once more. But if Nalia's words were true, if she had really been blinding herself for so long… by the time Nalia had fallen into slumber, Jaheira was resolute to speak with Greywulf when he returned.

Meanwhile, Greywulf was only breathing a little heavier as he hiked up towards the spring on the hillside. The hike only made the prospect of fresh water that much more enticing, and if his memory served him correctly, it had been quite the refreshing fount. His staff granted enough light to find his way with ease and he was soon rewarded with the sound of trickling water, the source he was seeking. He closed his eyes to grant himself a better idea of where the noise was coming from- he listened quietly, his pointed ears quivering just slightly; with a few moments time, he was headed towards the unmistakable noise. Pushing aside a few last branches and stepping past a sapling or two, he found the cluster of rocks piled a few feet high, the water bubbling out from the midst of them. He smiled to himself, comforted by the small display of peace and beauty in nature's midst, unspoiled by the death and destruction his life was constantly embroiled in. He knelt down and cupped his hands, taking a few long draughts, then proceeded to fill the four waterskins with him, one after another opening and closing their cork tops, filling them as full as he could manage. Just as he corked the very last one, a shape jumped out of the branches in front of him, wailing and howling gibberish like a banshee. Greywulf's startled hands dropped the waterskins and picked up his quarterstaff, automatically swinging into defense. He raised his weapon high, preparing to strike- the ominous figure stopped in its path and then began laughing fitfully, the mischievous and girlish lilt of the voice betraying the identity of his mystery attacker.

"Imoen… one of these days I'm not going to see who you are in time and knock you one good on the skull." Greywulf sighed, lowering his weapon as he moved closer, seeing her seated upon the spring rock pile, her knees tucked up towards her chest as she rocked back and forth, still letting one or two snorts of laughter out periodically.

"You should have seen yourself, Greywulf… you had that same face, you know, the one involving the noodle incident?"

"You swore you'd never mention that again." Greywulf said, mockingly testy.

"Yeah… I lied. Anyways, you'd better pick up those waterskins before ya lose them. I'm thirsty, you know. Pass 'em over." Imoen said, pointing to the skins before her on the ground.

"And why exactly should I give these to you?" Greywulf asked, kneeling down and slinging all four over his shoulder with a quiet harrumph. "Seeing as you snuck all the way up here just for the purpose of scaring me, I'd say I deserve an extra waterskin full."

"And you didn't even see me once." Imoen tsked, shaking one finger. "You're getting sloppy. I'd wager you couldn't find me if you were trying."

Greywulf paused as he unslung one of them, preparing to pass it to the girl. He eyed Imoen with a glint similar to hers in his eye. "Is that a challenge I hear?"

"It might be." Imoen smirked. "You never could beat me, anyway."

"That was then. This is a whole new game, now." Greywulf set his quarterstaff down, stretching his neck back and forth.

"We'll see." Imoen tossed her hair back behind her, hopping off the rock and bending backwards, her arms extended as far as she could manage in her stretching. "You remember the rules?"

"Twenty minutes, max?" He replied, finishing and dropping into a dodging position.

"No leaving the hillside." Imoen said with an almost feral grin, winking once at her brother. "Just like old times then... except without the torture and stuff."

Without another word, she leapt off the rocks and into the brush behind her, the sounds of her movement fading quickly as Greywulf did the same, only in the opposite direction. Greywulf couldn't suppress a grin of excitement and nostalgia, thinking back to Imoen and his time in Candlekeep. It was a game they had played many times, usually when Winthrop had been chasing after Imoen for some prank she had pulled and when Greywulf was trying to get out of his studies. Sneaking through the castle grounds and insides, not only trying to avoid being seen by the monks and soldiers, but to find each other without the other knowing and doing their very best to frighten each other... the bigger the reaction the better.

True enough, Imoen had good reason to boast. She had beaten him nine times out of ten, and he'd be lying if he said otherwise. However, he reflected, his skill at magic wasn't nearly as good back then either. Which in retrospect was probably the reason Gorion had the uncanny ability to confound them both, popping up in front of one or the other with the same look of amused annoyance on his face every so often. He briefly considered casting a Clairvoyance spell, but took less than a second to decide against it, not wishing to spoil the game. He crept past a few large boulders and froze, listening. Nothing was forthcoming except the sound of leaves rustling against each other in a breeze. Exactly like old times.

Imoen was still moving, if extremely slowly, circling the lower portion of the hillside, her eyes constantly peering upwards, trying to spot any sign of her brother. The last time they had done this was at least eight years ago, and Imoen loved it just as much now as back then. Of course, this 'game' served another purpose, for her at least: no matter how much she tried to hide it, how much she tried to seem and act like the exact same Imoen who was taken from them to Spellhold, she knew she wasn't. Bodhi had stripped her of her soul, and perhaps more than that.

It was a struggle each day to prevent herself from despairing, from slipping into rage and madness. The attacks on her mind by the vampiress had been healed by Greywulf and her own mental strength, but the scars of those incidents would be there for the rest of her life. Imoen shuddered just briefly, thinking about what had happened, then returned her focus to the game before her. Just being around her friends was comforting, knowing that they were there for her to depend on, to take care of her when she needed it most. Her thoughts were shocked back to reality when she saw what looked like a glint of silver in the moonlight. She bit her lip in excitement, then slowly crawled up towards the sighting. As she moved, she gave a second thought and picked up a small stone nearby and threw it, aiming for the general direction of what she had seen. The missile landed with nary a sound, but to either player, it was as clear as a bell.

Greywulf nodded in satisfaction, watching the stone fly by his position, nearly tagging the robe he had left just within sight a few dozen paces up the hillside. Imoen hadn't lost any of her talent, and wasn't simply going to walk into his trap. She was far too clever for that, and other measures would have to be taken. He prepared to move again, then halted suddenly as he heard an approaching step. He tucked himself under a thick pile of brush, cloaked and covered, nearly impossible to see. His eyes blinked once to see a pair of feet creep by, Imoen passing within a foot of his position. Greywulf tensed, sensing opportunity. It could be another trick, but… Greywulf's hand abruptly lunged out to grab Imoen's ankle, a scare tactic he himself had fallen victim to many times. His hand passed through the image of the girl like a shade, revealing its nature as nothing more than an illusion conjured by the wily girl. It disappeared with physical contact, and Imoen undoubtedly knew his location now. Greywulf resisted the urge to curse and instead rolled onto his back, deciding that if Imoen was going to use magic, two could play at that game... and he was decidedly more in his element when it came to the arcane arts. He whispered a few words of magic, and then smiled.

Imoen had seen the image disappear and was now intently watching that area as she circled it, moving slowly closer. She hadn't quite figured out how she was going to get him, especially if he held position there, but she'd find a way. She always had before. As she attempted to spot him, her efforts finally succeeded, noticing just the tip of a travel worn boot nestled under the brush. She quietly began sneaking over towards it, positioning herself where she guessed he couldn't see her approach. Moving closer and closer, she finally got to where she could make out his outline, then spotted another flash of silver, rapidly disappearing in the opposite direction. She stared in confusion, then almost dropped her jaw as she saw several other figures hurry off in different directions. She slapped her head in irritation, trying to decide which copy to follow, knowing that Greywulf would most likely get away. She suddenly grinned, then quickly cast a True Sight, refusing to follow a copy. To her surprise, every image she stared at disappeared, leaving none to chase after. She frowned in confusion, just as two hands dropped directly onto her shoulders, eliciting a startled yelp from her. She whirled to see Greywulf behind her, a broad grin on his face.

"Sorry. Wrong mirror image."

"I half wondered if that wasn't the real you hiding there, but I didn't think you'd be that smart." Imoen fumed, clearly unhappy with losing.

"Just for that remark, I'm doing the victory dance." Greywulf replied, just before Imoen put up her hands in protest, an apology spilling out of her mouth so quickly it was barely intelligible.

"Wow. Is the dance really that bad?" he asked in surprise.

"Have you ever watched yourself do it?" Imoen asked, relieved at being spared the horrible sight. "That's a yes, by the way."

Greywulf shrugged, then motioned for her to follow him back up to the spring to collect his weapon and the waterskins. "That was fun." he said with a hint of nostalgia as he collected their belongings.

"Yeah... it was." Imoen said, sitting by the spring rocks. Greywulf walked to her side and seated himself beside her as she rested her head on his shoulder, that little gesture of affection she had always had for him when they were children. "Thanks."

Greywulf remained silent for another moment or so, then said, "Imoen… you know we're going to get through this, right? You'll get your soul back- and I'll be right there helping you fight Bodhi. I'm not going anywhere. Not again."

Imoen turned her head just enough at the angle it was already at on his shoulder to smile up at him, that same expression of childlike innocence, just before blinking twice, trying to keep her eyes open with a giant cat-like yawn. Greywulf chuckled, then looked down at the small glow of their campsite. "We'd best get back to camp. Come on."

She nodded and stood, the two of them walking down the hill side by side. Jaheira was still awake and staring into the fire, keeping it warm and burning- she gave the two of them a nod as they arrived, though Nalia had remained asleep since they left. Imoen was quick to join her, settling into her own blankets quite contentedly. As Greywulf set the waterskins down, one beside each set of bedding, he noticed Jaheira had scarcely moved from the fire, her eyes glimmering as she bored into its depths. He kept her waterskin and approached her, extending the pouch to her. She almost seemed like she had been shocked out of a daze when he finally cleared his throat, catching her attention.

She took the skin from him, sipping it gratefully as he left, walking back to prepare his own bedding for the night. She glanced in his direction, inwardly unable to move, to say what she felt... what she wanted to express. She had rebuffed him twice... he was far too respectful of her to ask a third time, and so if there was to be anything more, she would have to initiate it. It was all on her... the future of their friendship, and anything more. The words had come to her while he was gone… but right beside her, feeling his presence so close, all the articulation vanished from her mind. So instead she merely gazed into the fire, watching the tendrils of heat and smoke consume the wood in the pit as small flickers of ash and spark rose and dissipated into the night air. Greywulf noticed her hesitation, the tightness of her frame.

"Everything okay?"

"Fine… everything is fine."

"You seem rather… tense." He gazed at her, hoping his presence was not making her uncomfortable. Their relationship had been an up and down one, to be sure. His heart still managed to skip a beat whenever she fixed gazes with him, those striking green eyes looking as though piercing his very soul- but it was irrelevant, anyhow. She had made it abundantly clear how their relationship was to be and she was right, as always. Continuing to entertain thoughts of a relationship with Jaheira would only hurt her, and him. She needed his friendship… and that's what he would give, with all his heart.

"We should probably join the others in getting some rest." he offered, kneeling beside the mess of blankets as he undid the sash that tied his gray outer robe together. "I'll see you in the morning..."

"Wait..." Jaheira found herself standing up, raising one hand as he ceased abruptly, turning his head to look at her with a frown. "I- never mind. I suppose this would be an inconvenient time to speak. I will talk to you in the morning."

"No- no, it's fine." Greywulf shook his head, standing to his full height and walking to her, both alert and curious. "Please, speak your mind. I will make time."

"I am sorry if this seems odd, but… I wanted to thank you." Jaheira shifted nervously, an odd fidget for the usually collected druid. "You did not have to follow me to the Harper Hold. In fact, I seem to recall writing in that letter for you not to."

"You know I'm a terrible listener." he shrugged with a quick smirk, though his mood turned serious enough as he continued. "Solaufein told us what happened... why didn't you wait for us- ask us for help? I know Dermin was your friend- your mentor, even. But I don't think you can trust him anymore... as hard as that may be to swallow."

Jaheira sighed and turned to face the fire once more, letting its random, chaotic dance rapture her concentration. "The shame of Dermin's accusation colored my own sight. You are right... he is the one who has changed. All of you would have proven better guides- most certainly better friends. You- you in particular. You have proven master of your own path, and as… as much as I wish to walk it with you, there is much unfinished business that has been eating away at my will. Khalid's death, my need to move on, these Harpers that have forced my own treachery…"

She turned and glared, though not unkindly into Greywulf's eyes again. "And in the background is who and what you are: a spawn of murder and lies. But you have left behind the evil your very nature is built on. If you can do that… if you can abandon your role in life and yet remain in balance, in a role of light amidst darkness all around, proving to be the caring person you are- then why do I fear?"

She shifted her position once more, Greywulf remaining silent, just listening to Jaheira speak. She took a deep breath, spilling the words she had reflected on while Greywulf and Imoen had been on the hill. No fancy elocution, the sentences oddly phrased and poorly worded, but they were the truth. "You once told me how you felt about me... and I pushed you away. You told me again, and a second time I pushed you away. If you ask me a third time, now... I will not push you away. I promise."

His body tightened, muscles tense as he listened and tried to take in what she was telling him- what he had wanted yet finally convinced himself could never be. He turned his head from her, unwilling to look her in the eye as he spoke, voice tight as he tried to find the words. "Jaheira... you told me there could never be an... us. We would be great allies, great friends- but nothing more. You made me believe this-"

She glared heavily, obviously nervous as she stepped into his line of vision, forcing him to look at her. "I did not ask you what has been, or what was... I asked you what is, Greywulf. Please tell me."

He still did not look her meet her gaze entirely... long seconds passed, the only sound the crackling embers of the fire. Finally, after what seemed like an eternity to one- if not both of them- he looked up and spoke. "My feelings have never changed. I still care for you, Jaheira. With all my heart."

Just like that... it was done. Their feelings were laid open for each other to see, and there was no more hiding, no more barriers to break down. Jaheira's head dropped to her chest for a moment- she looked back up at him, a weak smile crossing her face. "I am glad... I do not know what this means for you, or me. I am no longer afraid to hear those words from you- and I still do not know how to act on them, but knowing that you feel as I do is a start. I will not delay our rest any longer... but know what this means to me. Thank you."

She leaned in and embraced Greywulf tightly, the mage noticeably surprised at the fierceness of which she clung to him.

"It… it is good to be close." she murmured, her hair tickling his neck as it brushed over him. They slowly disengaged from their embrace, walking over to their respective cots, lying down and falling into slumber within moments. For the first time in many months, Jaheira slept in absolute peace.

_Author's Post-Script: Fifty points to anyone who got the Calvin and Hobbes reference. ;)_


	78. Part 3: All Roads Lead To Rome

The small, barely flaming campfire crackled and popped as four figures huddled around its dying warmth, the paladin in their midst throwing on the last of the wood that they had packed with them in the non-forested rocky cliffs that surrounded their path to De'Arnise Keep. Crickets chirped quietly in the background as Keldorn took the small branch beside him that they had kept for use as a poker and prodded the wood, trying to keep it burning. He sighed as the flames continued their slow decline, marking the end of what little warmth they could scavenge that night. Looking up at his companions, he let a slight smile quirk as Minsc uncloaked his massive body, wrapping the gray wool around Aerie as she gave him a look of appreciation, trying not to let her shivering show to the others, particularly the newest member of their company.

Solaufein was not discomfited in the least by the chill of the night- he had endured much worse in the Underdark. To him, it was merely a nice evening. His face flickered strange colors in the orange firelight, the red of his eyes unwavering as he sat opposite Minsc, his armor and blade yet by his side. Keldorn had done the same, although Minsc had abandoned his own equipment by his bedroll, as had Aerie. He studied his new companions, flickering back and forth between each of them. Minsc... the gigantic warrior was clearly not right in the head. He knew little if anything of tactics, of planning or strategy... and yet, he had survived so long. He found it strange... strange that so unsubtle a man could last for so long in the warrior's arena. Rarely did those without the intelligence to match their strength survive... at least, that was what he was accustomed to.

Keldorn- the paladin was calm, always collected and unwavering in devotion to his god and his faith. He had yet to see the man lose his nerve in the face of danger, or release the anger that was surely broiling inside his armored body. A parallel, almost, to Minsc. Opposite sides of a warrior's spirit. Perhaps... perhaps that was what made this group of surfacers, these 'adventurers' so well organized, so well balanced. They completed each other in so many ways- physical, emotional, spiritual. For all of Aerie's small size, Minsc was the equivalent of three men. The ranger's ferocity in battle could be held accountable by the precise and methodical attacks of the druid. Greywulf's deliberate yet forceful strikes of magic were accompanied perfectly by the wild and unpredictable spells that Imoen could unleash in a heartbeat.

Three warriors at the forefront, masters of their craft- a cleric, a wizard, and an archer behind, supporting in every way necessary. They were more than just a team, or a party, or even a family. They completed one another... they were one, in a sense. Solaufein shifted his weight, suddenly realizing what he was slowly becoming a part of... to his surprise, he was not as hesitant as he had once been. Perhaps he could make a way on this strange surface world with them, for as much as it seemed to want his blood. His only concern now was that he did not bring them down with him-

Keldorn's voice caught him off guard- he looked up abruptly, blinking once as the paladin continued his words, although he had apparently caught on to the conversation before it had disappeared beyond the awkward necessity of asking him to start over. "We will hold to this course for the next day and a half." Keldorn thumbed behind him, down towards the base of a mountain range. "This course is harder and more treacherous than the open plains, but it will lead us to the De'Arnise Keep quicker if we can master it. With any luck, we will get there within a day of the others."

"Some shortcut." Aerie sighed, wincing once as she nursed one of the blisters that her feet had accrued during the rocky trek. Keldorn gave her a look of sympathy, knowing how uncomfortable she must have been in the sandals that were usually well worn by the Avariel. Minsc had made her a salve from various herbs and leaves he had gathered before they'd entered the rough terrain, but it had long since run out and she was forced to simply deal with the walking impediment.

"Boo agrees with Aerie. Minsc is not so sure about this road; evil and villainy is no match for my sword, but a rock in the boot is a foe even Boo is wary of." the large man said with a slight grimace, shifting upon the rock on which he sat as he shook one boot he had pulled off, watching in satisfaction as small pebbles, stones, and the occasional dirt clod flew from its interior. Apparently unsatisfied with the completeness of which he had emptied the footwear, Minsc held it out from him with one hand, bringing his other arm around with fist balled up- the sound of the leather being smacked echoed loudly, sending another flurry of dust from its exterior as well as a few stragglers out from their inward hiding places.

Aerie unsuccessfully attempted not to laugh as Keldorn merely smiled and stood from his resting position, looking out at the plains below, toward the eastern horizon. The Keep was not quite in visual range yet, but it would be in a matter of hours. The journey had been rough but not too arduous, and despite some minor hindrances, Keldorn was quite pleased with the progress they had made. For only having been on the surface world for a week, Solaufein had been handling himself well- Keldorn and Aerie had both talked in private about the drow, and neither could find any reasons to warrant concern. He kept to himself, mostly... but it was to be expected. He was slowly growing more unguarded around the party- even now, Keldorn could have sworn he had seen the drow's mouth curl upwards at Minsc's continued attempts at ridding his boot of rocks by way of physical beating.

Aerie yawned once, shifting uncomfortably as she tried to find a better position on her rock, suitable enough to rest and eat her rations at the same time, chewing on a few pieces of bread and dried venison. Minsc looked at her, still clutching one boot and asked, "Aerie, is everything well? Your foot is not bothering you again, is it?"

She shook her head no in reply, cocking her head as blonde locks of hair draped over her left shoulder with the head motion. "Oh, I'm fine Minsc... just a little uncomfortable. Rocks don't tend to make the best chairs..."

Minsc stood boldly, his vision looking upwards with purpose and proclaimed, "I will find my witch a new stone to sit upon! No uncomfortable rock shall escape the wrath of Minsc!"

Aerie tried to calm the ranger down, eyes widening as she stood, trying to call him back, but he had already strode off down about the hill, still half bootless, scouring for a better rock. She watched him search about carefully as the paladin beside her sighed quietly, looking upwards and whispering, "Oh, ye gods, shelter this loving madman while ye may..."

"Minsc, it's okay!" Aerie called, but the ranger showed no indication of slowing, moving out of their sight in the darkened depths of the night, even as Solaufein watched with faint curiosity and amusement. "I knew he was going to protect me and all... but he's taking it a little far."

"Why does he protect you so fiercely?" Solaufein asked quietly. "What does this man owe you?"

"He's... I guess he's my bodyguard, to put it one way." Aerie said carefully. "It's kind of a long story... but he's pledged to protect me until we've destroyed Irenicus. His culture... it is called a dajemma, I think. He is proving his manhood to the tribes of his homeland."

Solaufein shrugged, suppressing a chuckle. "He is more of a warrior than many of my drow kinsman... he proves himself time and again against every enemy we have faced. He needs to prove nothing."

"Perhaps, although I have heard a little of Rashemani culture, and the dajemma he is on." Keldorn said, leaning back a bit. "It is the culmination of a young man's entire life, and is considered to be the most important thing they will ever do. He is only doing what he believes is necessary. Added to the fact that he still feels responsible for Dynaheir's death, he will protect Aerie more fiercely from any threat, perceived or otherwise."

"Keldorn! Aerie! Solaufein! Boo has seen something! The forces of evil approach and await our sturdy kick to their hind ends!" Minsc's bellow was unmistakable, even in the dark- the three of them leapt to their feet as Minsc rushed into the light, hurriedly coming to gather his sword and armor before leading them to the top of a rocky hillside, overlooking a canyon below. Deep in the murky blackness of the passageway, the sound of marching boots and clanking armor could be heard. If they listened hard enough, so could the sounds of the orcish tongue, echoing between the mass of soldiers below.

"I thought they weren't supposed to arrive at the Keep for another few days." Aerie whispered. "Solaufein... how many do you think there are?"

The two elves stared at the orc horde for a few seconds, their infravision piercing the darkness- Solaufein glanced at Aerie, his face hard and grim. "Three hundred strong, at least. Perhaps more."

"Shouldn't there be more?" Minsc frowned. "Boo is happy to see these enemies, yes indeed, but we were expecting five thousand to be… bigger. Er… more five thousandish."

"It's not the main force- it's an advance strike sent to scatter their forces, to leave them winded and exposed to the main assault." Keldorn shook his head, one hand resting on the hilt of the Hallowed Redeemer. "Their scouts won't have seen this coming. Not in this darkness and by this road."

"I have fought these creatures in the past, feral beasts we captured and set loose in the gladiatorial arena in Ust Natha." Solaufein sneered. "They were pathetic- weaklings who fell quicker than any human or elf. They will only be a threat en masse."

"Are you suggesting we take them all on?" Keldorn frowned. "Every one of them is more than capable of killing any of us."

"But we can't just let them get through to the Keep unopposed." Aerie pointed out, already holding her sling in one hand, drawing a stone with the other. "If-if we hurry, we might make it to the Keep before them and warn Nalia, but we'd have to travel nonstop."

"No. We either have to delay them…"

"Or pound their greasy little skulls until they learn not to tread the muck and bile of villainy onto our lily white tiles of goodness! Boo _will_ have clean wood shavings, you orc bastards!" Minsc bellowed as he stood tall, shaking his fist at the orcs below- even in the dark, his figure stood tall to the eyes of the orcs. A shrieking and pointing of fingers- the cry of the horde sounded and they turned toward their opponents as one.

Keldorn cursed and yanked Minsc down as the sound of orc grunting echoed through the canyon, followed by the twang of bow strings being released. Four crude orc arrows flew over their heads, striking the rocks beyond them.

"Little choice in the matter now." Keldorn grunted, pulling a small crossbow from his pack, opening a container of bolts on his left hip. He leaned over the top of the rock, squinting to see in the darkness- he triggered the weapon with the whoosh of a bolt being launched from its seat. It streaked down the hillside, thudding as it embedded itself through the crude armor one orc was wearing. It gurgled once, then clattered to the ground, infuriating and energizing the orcs around it. They launched themselves forward, ascending the cliffside, navigating through the rock and scarcely discernible trails toward Keldorn's position.

"What do we do now?" Aerie questioned fearfully, crouched low with the trail of her cyan and cream robe pooled around her as the number of orc arrows flying over their heads increased.

"We show them the meaning of a true hero!" Minsc said, drawing the Sword of Chaos from its sheath, that look of determination and unflappable courage crossing his face once more. "Lead on, Keldorn!"

The paladin nodded, inhaling sharply and exhaling in sequence, grimacing as an arrow came far too close, the iron tip splintering a bit of the rock he was leaning behind, sending shards into the side of his face. He blinked away the pain and wiped the gravel from his vision, then pointed to the elven cleric. "Aerie, slow their ascent and give me some light to guide my shots. Minsc, try and draw their attention away from Aerie and I- keep them at bay if at all possible, but do not engage them in groups. Our only hope is to thin their numbers until we can manage them as one. Solaufein, do your utmost to aid Minsc... your infravision should give you the advantage in stealth here. Take them by surprise- but again, do not challenge them in groups."

"A wraith in the dark." he whispered back, wrapping his cloak around him as he disappeared into the night behind them, already moving to flank the incoming orcs. Aerie clutched Minsc's hand once as he moved to charge from his hiding spot- the ranger gave her a comforting grin, then darted outward, roaring a challenge to their foes. His gambit was successful- arrow after arrow trailed towards his wake, just behind the surprisingly fleet man. Aerie peeked over the top of their cover, watching uncomfortably as she saw the lead orcs already halfway up the hill. She closed her eyes, whispering the words of her divine magic, mist swirling around her petite form- she turned to Keldorn as bright light surrounded her hands and head. "You might wish to shield your eyes."

Keldorn ducked down as Aerie stood, her eyes flashing bright white as she raised one hand to the heavens; a pillar of flame and light ignited in the sky, raining down in the midst of the orc formation. Several of their number were scattered if not incinerated altogether, blinding all those who had been nearby. Keldorn whirled up once more, unloading another set of bolts, felling two more orcs in the fading light of Aerie's spell. The orcs howled their fury upwards- their formation could be seen splitting, spreading wide to avoid a repeat of the same. Even as they attempted to protect themselves from Aerie's magical prowess, Keldorn made them pay for their cautiousness, making certain that each bolt he fired found its mark. One after another, orc lives were claimed by the precision accuracy of the paladin. He leaned over the top of his cover again, sighting in on an orc off toward their flank- his finger stopped just short of pulling the trigger, watching as the orc's throat suddenly spewed blood, a silver glint slashing in the dark.

Solaufein let the limp body fall to the ground, crouching down as he studied the orcs passing his position, trying to figure out how best to exploit their weaknesses... three of them headed his direction, pointing and grunting toward the same path that his first victim had attempted to use in order to flank Keldorn and Aerie. They marched forward, heading straight for him- one looked straight at him, seeing nothing but his red eyes flashing in the darkness. It screeched loudly, drawing the attention of his companions- one raised a bow, releasing the arrow in haste, hoping to slay the demonic creature his friend had seen. It passed by Solaufein, leaving him unharmed; still, they were aware of his presence now, something that if spread to the rest of the orcs, could make his life quite difficult. He clutched the stone in his pocket, uttering the word of power to activate its magic; a dimension door opened behind him as he stepped backward, slipping through time and space... right behind the three orcs who were standing a single line, all looking toward the bright flash that had ignited upon his use of the spell. He did not hesitate- one swift motion with his sword and their severed heads rolled back down the hill, tumbling into the orcs who were still attempting to climb the hill. They looked toward where he had been a brief second ago- he was already on the move again, a tight smile crossing his scarred face.

Minsc ducked behind another boulder, sucking in air greedily as another score of orc arrows shattered on the rock he took shelter with. More than half the orcs had turned their attention towards him... but he was growing tired, running so far and hard in his heavy plate armor. The number of escape avenues he had was growing slim. Aside from all that, he really wanted to use his sword. He looked to the head of the path he was currently at, noticing a clean, straight road to a dozen orcs, the creatures charging up the hill, directly at him. He grinned, hefting his sword in anticipation. Granted, twelve against one might not have been Keldorn's definition of thin numbers, but... Minsc craned his head to the pouch on his belt as he heard a slight squeak. He looked down at Boo, started into the hamster's eyes for a moment, then smiled broadly. "Ooh… you are so wise, Boo! Your intelligence on the field of battle is amazing!"

Minsc sheathed his sword again, then braced his shoulder against the large boulder he was hiding behind. Giving a grunt of effort, he pushed all his considerable muscle and weight into the rock; it shuddered and scraped, pushing to move from its resting place for so long. The boulder finally slid free, tumbling down the slope quickly, rapidly picking up speed. It scattering the approaching orc force, squashing those too slow to dodge and killing others who were unfortunate enough to dodge off the hillside itself into the canyon below. Minsc pulled his sword again and shouted a war cry of epic proportions, leaping downhill with a bound that put him right in the middle of the shaken survivors. Only five against one now... much better.

Another orc fell, clutching the crossbow bolt that pierced his heart. No orc was foolish enough to stay directly in the open now, each one mirroring Minsc's tactics of approaching through clever use of the terrain, hopping from rock to rock, using Keldorn's reload time to cover great distance. Nearly twenty orcs had fallen victim to his crossbow, but he was rapidly running out of bolts. Aerie had abandoned slowing tactics for offensive magics, hurling fireballs and lightning bolts down the hill, but their new strategy was sufficient to halt the use of her magic to single targets rather than the groups she had hoped to decimate. Aerie's robes swirled, rising up and whipping violently in the winds that she summoned, sending a powerful whirlwind twisting down the hill, picking up debris and rock as it rapidly became a maelstrom of gravel and solid stone. It spun and roared down the hillside, sending orc and boulder alike flying away, knocking every orc in its path back down the hill.

Keldorn took a moment's breath, rechecking the opponent's numbers- he could scarcely see in the night, but he was not encouraged. They had barely slain fifty and the remaining enemy was moving and fighting smart. He had not seen Solaufein for some time- he only allowed himself a moment to worry for the drow's safety before loading his last bolt into the crossbow and standing to his feet, aiming for the closest target- he was shocked to see three orcs almost within reach, having scaled the hillside unnoticed behind the rock and boulder cover. He growled, aiming into the lead orc's chest and triggering the weapon firmly. It landed with a most satisfying thud- he raised the crossbow to defend himself as an orc blade came down, shattering the weapon rather than his chest. He went for his sword, but his right hip might as well have been a mile away, considering how close the other orc was.

The backswing came around to take his head off- Keldorn's eyes went wide and he shouted a cry of alarm as he saw Aerie throw herself into the path of the sword. His heart nearly stopped as he saw the blade ricochet off her body, the power of a Stoneskin saving the elf from an untimely death. She was holding the mace that normally hung by her side- the small elf swung it with all her strength, slamming into the head of the bewildered orc. It crunched loudly, slumping to the ground with a destroyed skull. Keldorn snarled as he yanked the Hallowed Redeemer from its sheath, cutting the other orc down before it could gather its wits. Two more arrows sung through the air, each one dropping one of the skins Aerie had summoned. Keldorn yanked her down as the last of her protections faded- an arrow struck his shoulder, piercing through the pauldron he wore. He cried out as he slid to the ground, Aerie taking hold of him in fright and concern as his blade clattered to the ground.

The paladin reached up with his good arm and grasped hold of the arrow shaft, yanking it out as quickly as he could. He gritted his teeth, looking at the dirty, rusted arrow tip- there would be time to worry about infections and disease later, should they survive... the odds of which were looking worse with each second. Keldorn steeled himself, going through every option- of which they had exhausted most of- then came to the only conclusion possible. The one every paladin dreaded... and embraced as his sworn duty. He turned to Aerie, reaching down to grasp his blade with both hands, trying to ignore the searing pain in his shoulder, the weakness it caused in his grip. "Aerie... get to Minsc. Warn the Keep... I will remain here and delay them as long as I can."

Aerie recoiled, shaking her head in denial. "You'll die alone! You and Solaufein can't handle this by yourselves!"

"If so, then I have done my duty to Torm." Keldorn grunted, pushing himself off the rock to his feet. "It is my sworn path… and I will fulfill my duty with honor. Now get moving!"

Aerie sat still for a moment, turning his words over in her mind- she opened her mouth to protest- he placed one hand on her shoulder, his eyes, despite all the blood, and sweat and dirt covering his face, still as full of nobility and gentleness as ever. "It's okay, Aerie. Do this for me... please."

She swallowed heavily, then set herself in determination. "Where's Minsc?"

"Over-" Keldorn's direction was cut off by a loud shout of triumph, the familiar bellow unmistakable. They both turned to see Minsc overturning a number of rocks on the hillside a few dozen yards away, sending an avalanche of smaller boulders and stones tumbling down. The small tumble of stone quickly grew larger as it began to engulf half the hillside, blinding some orcs, killing others. Even as the dust settled, the sound of orc cries and shouts could still be heard. Many were wounded, but their numbers were still far too numerous- and with Solaufein nowhere to be found, hope had faded completely. Keldorn's head bowed, whispering a prayer to Torm as he settled his own spirit. "Now, Aerie. While they are still disorganized. Go to Minsc, and get out of here."

"Minsc can-" Aerie began to protest once more, but Keldorn's voice cut her off, cracking with emotion as he shouted, "He won't leave you behind and you know it! Now please Aerie, go!"

The sound of the big ranger's feet skidding to their position got their attention, the ranger nearly falling as he ran to his companions. He was covered in dirt and dust, but relief was palpable in his eyes at seeing them both alive, if not in the best of condition. "What now, good knight?" Minsc asked. "I have used all the big rocks I could find, but there are still more! And you! You have been hurt! Oh, but Minsc will avenge you twenty fold!!"

Minsc leapt out, berserker rage in his eyes. Abandoning all restraint, he barreled down towards the scattered orcs, numbers and strategy no longer with his valiant yet scattered mind. His sword sung loudly as it cut down stragglers, still rising from the avalanche he had created. Aerie turned to watch the strides of her protector- it was her turn to be his watcher. She would not let him fall, not so easily- she shouted the words to a Haste spell, speeding his actions a superhuman velocity. He became a blur as he moved down the hill, hewing any orc not on guard as he approached the main cluster. Her hands trembled with the sheer amount of magic she was using as she summoned every protection she could muster upon her ranger's body- physical blows deflecting off their power. She watched the blue shimmer around him fade as he was slowly surrounded, orc blows landing far too quickly for her to renew the protective magics. Anger flashed over her features... no! She refused to let him fall, not like this!

Keldorn looked at her fury, smiling sadly. "It will not be enough, Aerie. I go to fight beside Minsc- Should we fall, do what you must." With that, he pushed himself downhill, refusing to look back. Even as the air flew by him, he could feel his own tired body reenergized by Aerie's magics... he raised his sword and shouted aloud as he hewed down an orc about to slice into Minsc's back. He put his back to the large ranger's, glancing behind him as Minsc did the same. They said nothing- only waited for the end as it closed in around them.

The circle of orcs surrounding them began swarming in- a blast of light shone all around as Solaufein leapt through a dimension door portal, silent as the grave. His blade came up before he did, slicing into one orc as he came to his feet, swinging hard right to disembowel another set of their foes. He looked behind him at the two other warriors, grimacing. Minsc spoke without looking, rage still visible in his eyes. "You should not have come down here, Solaufein. Make sure Aerie gets out safely."

"That, ranger, is your job. I am here to make sure you live to perform it." Solaufein said firmly as the orcs began to close in once more.

A rip of lightning cut across the sky, accompanied by a thunderous roar. Rocks quaked and the very earth underneath seemed to take notice with the sound- it was potent enough to draw the attention of both orc and adventurer; up above, upon the hill where Aerie stood alone... but no longer. On one side stood a hulking beast, covered in earth and vine, moss growing from its skin and vines extending from its feet like tendrils that planted themselves in the ground. Its glowing red eyes mirrored Solaufein's; it took a step forward, and once again, the earth shook.

One her other side was a shape like that of a tornado, but indwelt with the form of a humanoid inside. Glowing yellow orbs composed its eyes and it hovered above the ground, lightning cracking from its fingertips and across the sky. Aerie stood between the two Elementals she had summoned, barely able to keep herself standing after such an exertion of her magics... but she could not, would not stop now. Not until they were safe. She raised one hand and pointed, not even speaking. The Earth Elemental leapt down the hill as the Air Elemental swirled and rose up above the earth, extending its arms as it rained lightning and thunder down on their foes- orcs shrieked and scattered, even as the three warriors surrounded took their new allies to heart and counterattacked, fighting and battling alongside the Earth creature, its mammoth limbs smashing orcs with each swing.

Within minutes, the once impossible odds had been beaten back- their foes were beaten and destroyed, the remaining horde who had survived the wrath of the fighters fleeing into the canyon from which they had come. The dust settled as Aerie hurried down the hill to her companions, releasing the elemental creatures from her service, letting them return to their homes in the Planes. She leapt into Minsc's embrace, the ranger chuckling quietly as he looked down at her relieved features. "Minsc thinks you worry for him and Boo. Are we not supposed to be the ones protecting you?"

She shook her head, not quite able to hold back her own tears of joy, not bothering to respond as she buried her face into his shoulder. He shrugged, holding her tightly. "Minsc will take that as a yes... thank you, Aerie. You are a very good witch. Boo is very proud."

Keldorn watched the two of them as he leaned on his sword, trying to steady his balance as the adrenaline began leaving his system, letting him realize just how tired he was. He let out a slight sigh of disbelief, still unsure how they had survived their battle. Solaufein stirred beside him, glancing sideways to meet the paladin's eye. Solaufein pulled a small length of cloth from one of the side pouches he wore, wiping the black blood from his sword as he spoke. "So... we pull victory from the jaws of defeat once more. It would seem that your sense of self-sacrifice was unnecessary."

Keldorn snorted, though not unkindly, taking the implication quite well. "Perhaps, but we may not be so lucky next time. We only survived because of a high ground advantage and an unorganized enemy. Despite all our heroics, victory should not have been ours this day."

"So?" Minsc said, scratching his bald head curiously as he turned to Keldorn, listening with his head cocked to the side. "A victory is a victory is a victory, and Minsc knows this because Boo tells him so!"

"Eh… never mind." Keldorn said, waving it off, taking the proffered cloth from Solaufein to wipe his own blade clean. "Well done, one and all. We should take our rest- we still have a length to travel in the morn. If you don't mind, Aerie, I think my shoulder could use some healing before bed."

The four of them began their trek up the hill towards their abandoned campsite, and though Keldorn said nothing further about his concerns, his mind yet raced with worry; their victory against the orcs had done nothing to ease his fears. He wanted to trust Greywulf's judgment in this matter, but their fight had reminded him of just what they had been signed up for. Five thousand against a force barely large enough to man a garrison post. He said a quick prayer to Torm, wary of the days ahead.

X X X X X X

A jolt, a slight shake and tremor went through Greywulf's body as he slept, covered well against the chilly air of the hill countries of Amn. His face blossomed into a slight grimace, perhaps at the unwarranted awakening, but he quickly turned over and attempted to ignore it. The small nudge quickly became a firm yet friendly shake, finally destroying any chance he might have had of going straight back to sleep. He grumbled just slightly, cursing himself for winning the little game he had played with Imoen that night- no doubt he would be in for a week of early morning wakeups, only to find her tucked back into her own covers before he could force himself to focus and prove to himself it was really her doing.

Still, there was no use in putting it off- maybe he would get lucky and catch her the first time around- he blinked hard, sitting up as he tried to catch the girl before she had made good her escape- his vision could make out the shape of a woman kneeling by his bedside, although it was certainly not Imoen. Jaheira was crouched beside him, a look of pleasant expectation adorning her normally serious features. It was still dark enough to prove that the sun had yet to rise; still, he could see her easily enough and she would not have woken him unless there was a good reason for it. He rubbed his eyes, stifling a yawn as he finally managed to focus on her face. "Jaheira... what's going on? Is something wrong?"

"Quickly... grab your cloak and follow me." she said simply, helping him stand from his bedding; she glanced behind her, making sure they had not woken Nalia or Imoen. The two girls were still fast asleep in their own blankets, and so she bent to pick up Greywulf's staff and handed it to him as he wrapped his gray outer robe on and proceeded to follow the druid, stalking out of their campsite and toward an embankment just a few hundred yards away from their companions. Greywulf glanced at Jaheira, trying to spy the motive to her actions, but other than a slight hint of anticipation in her features, there was nothing to be found. She caught him studying her, tossed him a quizzical smile and then kept moving, finally stopping with one hand on her hip, the bottom of her chestnut-colored mane blowing just slightly in the breeze of the morning.

She waited until Greywulf had settled in beside her, then raised her arm, pointing out into the distance, beyond the plains below and into the mountain ranges that lined the borders of Amn itself. "There... do you see what I point to? That small split in the mountain range, just between the snowcaps?"

He squinted, looking out into the distance, finding the spot she referred to with ease. It was a clear day, and a good thing as well, otherwise it would have been nearly impossible to spy. "Yes, I see it… why?"

"Just wait…" the half-elven druid fell silent, slowly settling into a cross-legged position on the grassy gnoll. Greywulf smiled cautiously as he glanced down at Jaheira again, but decided to follow her command and simply be patient. He let himself down easily as well, seating himself beside her, though without nearly so much ease or grace. For a brief moment, there was nothing… and then, magic.

As the very tip of the sun rose over the horizon, it sent light blasting through the niche he was looking at. It reflected off the snowcaps and spun beams of light into the air, illuminating and igniting a translucent palace of glass and crystal that appeared to be nestled between the peaks, enshrined amidst the sky in rainbows of color and beauty. The haze of moisture and rain from the snow reflected against the prisms of the palace in those first few moments, the color shifting as each beam of light struck a new area, until all the different colors splashed together into the white, pure brilliance of its fullness. Greywulf could not suppress a gasp as he looked upon the sight, the sight of the structure so brilliant and majestic, yet disappearing in moments. Jaheira looked at him, smiling knowingly as he stared, trying to catch a last glimpse.

"It is one of the few cities of the Avariel that are left- still visible to the eyes of those who know where to look." Jaheira said quietly in satisfaction. "One of the missions I undertook with the Harpers... I was brought to the gates of the city, although they did not grant me entrance. I spoke to Aerie of it once... she did not care to see it, saying that to see it would be too much for her. I cannot fault her- I only saw its gates but once, and it was... enough. I hope that was worth your last few minutes of sleep."

He looked back at her, shaking his head in disbelief. "Do you truly need to ask? That was... incredible."

Jaheira nodded and leaned forward, watching the morning light of the sun spread itself across the plains below, slowly slipping towards them, faster and faster until they were engulfed in the early light of the dawn. Things were... different, this morning. So much more relaxed- it was unusual, though not unpleasant. She rather enjoyed feeling a little more laidback, less stressed as was her wont. She had even undone the braids her hair were normally in, letting the tangle of her brown hair flow down over her head, the same fashion she had worn when she had first met Greywulf, back in the Friendly Arm Inn. Even as the light began to warm them from the night's chill, she sighed gently. "The dawning of our day... though it is very rarely that we seem to match our sleep to the cycle of day or night."

"We don't seem to find ourselves in daylight as often as I'm sure you'd prefer." the sorcerer noted. "I am sorry about that."

"Do not trouble yourself over it." Jaheira shrugged, brushing one stray lock of her hair away from her face. "I was merely saying that I enjoy it, not that we should order our lives around it. It is beautiful... and were we to see its fullness each day it would become merely ordinary."

With that, she turned back to the mage and said with one eyebrow raised, "Besides, when have I struck you as a person who would adjust well to such a strict timeline? Surely you know me better than that by now."

Greywulf barked a laugh, quickly striking his most Haer'Dalis'esque pose, matching the bard's tone as best he could manage. "No need for sarcasm, my dear ptarmigan. No sunrise could compare with your beauty in the moonlight."

"Such talk!" Jaheira laughed, pursing her lips with mock irritation, folding her arms as she asked, "Did the tiefling draft you lines before he left our company, or are you practicing on the country maidens we meet?"

"Good woman, you sting my heart when you say such things." Greywulf cried melodramatically, falling backwards on the grass, finally giving up the impression. "Heh. How cruel you are some times."

"Perhaps," Jaheira chuckled, "But I intend no malice, truly. I would laugh at you as I laugh at myself, and… hopefully I will come to know you that well."

She stopped speaking for a moment, letting the moment sink in, then finally brushed her hair back and offered, "Your words are pleasing; do not think otherwise... but perhaps we should awake the others. We cannot afford to dally overlong."

They said nothing more to one another as he helped her up, the two walking back to camp in stride. It was not overlong to awaken the other two- Nalia was eager to be on the move once more, although Imoen took a bit more persuading before she rose from her covers. A quick delay for clearing their camp and breakfast, and they were on their way once more. Even as Nalia led their way towards the Keep, Imoen sidled up beside Greywulf, elbowing him once, eliciting a cough from the sorcerer, not expecting the nudge. She winked at him, grinning as he calmed his throat, looking down at his mischievous sister. "Yes, Imoen? Was that revenge for our game last night?"

"Huh? Nah, you'll know when I take revenge for that. Trust me... hehehe. But in all seriousness, just wondering what our particular plan is for this skirmish... I mean, I got faith in ya, but there's only seven of us. That's not going to do a whole lot of good against five thousand orcs."

For a while, the only audible sound was that of the two siblings' breaths, wisps of cloud coming from their mouths as they walked in the cool of the morning. Imoen's eyes never left him; she continued to watch her brother as they walked, Greywulf's eyes down on the path before him. Finally, he looked up at her and said with a sad smile, "We fight… that's all I can say. Nalia and her people have gone through too much for us to let them go unaided now. I don't really know... but we'll find a way. We always do, right?"

"Heck yes! Besides, it's just a few thousand orcs. How hard could it be?" Imoen laughed and reached over to muss his hair, the man ducking away from the attempted hair tangling. As Greywulf continued to scramble away from the pursuit of his sister, Jaheira watched, shaking her head in bemused acceptance. Such a… freeing experience that she felt. For so long, denying her feelings for Greywulf, refusing to let herself think of him as anything more than a friend and at the same time refusing to let them be just friends. To finally acknowledge that there was something more between them, even though she didn't know exactly what yet, it made a world of difference.

Her thoughts were interrupted by Nalia sighing beside her, whispering to the druid, "Are they always like this together?"

"For the most part." Jaheira snorted. "Something wrong?"

"Well, no… I expected a little more seriousness on their part. My people are in danger, after all." Nalia said, a hint of indignation in her tone as the two scrambled about on the road ahead of the female duo behind them.

"Do not ask Greywulf to change his ways regarding himself or Imoen; I have tried for many years and am only now realizing this." Jaheira advised. "This is the two of them as they truly desire to be, I think. Their roles as mages of power, as 'heroes'... it is a role forced upon Greywulf, and Imoen in his wake. He plays the part well and will not back down from it by choice, but these times, these glimpses of him with Imoen… he longs for the peace that was stripped from him."

Nalia shrugged and seemed to accept her words, given no choice, really. They quickened their pace a bit too catch up with Imoen and Greywulf, the chase having devolved into a contest of magic, small flashes of lightning and magic bursting nearby them. By the time Nalia and Jaheira had reached them, Greywulf was sustaining a large, shimmering shield of magic in front of him, fending off Imoen's quick jabs with her finger, crackling with electricity.

"A little help here…" Greywulf said somewhat shakily, trying not to laugh too hard as he attempted to keep himself from getting shocked by Imoen's attacks.

Jaheira glanced over with one eyebrow raised she flipped the grip on her spear and gave the back of his knee a quick tap with the shaft, sending his leg collapsing out from under him. He landed on his rear with an inglorious thud- Imoen took the opportunity and dove at him, zapping him a number of times before he managed to pry her off, grass and dirt cluttering both of their clothes and hair. He exhaled with a hint of impatience as Imoen laughed, shaking one finger. "That was for winning last night. Told ya you'd know."

He gave her a quick roll of the eyes before catching up to the patiently waiting Nalia and Jaheira. He stopped briefly, glaring at the druid. "When I asked for help, that wasn't exactly the result I was hoping for."

"I'm sure I don't know what you're talking about." Jaheira said calmly, turning her back to him as she followed Nalia, total innocence in her accented tone.

Greywulf nodded and made a quick mental note to return Jaheira the favor at some point, just as Nalia smiled in relief and pointed ahead. "There!"

The De'Arnise Keep was in sight, small but quite visible on the plains before them. The mountain range stretched far behind it, the pass that unbeknownst to them, Keldorn and the others were traveling through. Their pace quickened, and soon the very gates of the Keep were sprawled before them. The sight was not a pleasant one- large piles of orc bodies were piled periodically around the perimeter, still smoldering from being burned. Spears and broken arrows littered the once lush grass and large blackened spots indicated where fires had broken out or spread from arrows or magic. A few shattered ballistae were still lying dormant along with two wrecked catapults, but for the most part the battlefield was devoid of siege weapons. The Keep itself seemed to have suffered little damage, barring a large crack in one of the main wooden doors, which was reinforced by several external slats that had been placed recently. A number of guards wielding a mixture of bows, swords and crossbows could be seen on the towers and walls of the keep, watching their arrival with a mixture of curiosity, hope, and suspicion. After it was clear just who was arriving, a cry could be heard echoing from the tower, "Open the gates! Lady Nalia has returned!"

The gates opened slowly as they approached, Captain Arat and a host of men riding out on horses, a look of relief on their faces. Arat was... older, than he had seemed last time. Perhaps it was the weariness of carrying on the defense of the Keep, or merely worry for Nalia's safety, but he did not look like the determined young man he had been when they had been here the first time. His silver armor was tarnished and dull, the product of far too many battles without the care of a smith. Still, his drive and determination were never more apparent, nor his relief at seeing Nalia return. He dismounted quickly and knelt before the lady of the Keep. "My lady! Words cannot express my gratitude at your return."

"Captain… what has happened in my absence?" Nalia asked, bidding the man stand as he led the three of them inside the keep, the gates slamming shut and barred once they were safely inside.

"Things are better… to a point." Arat said as he led them up towards the main hall. Greywulf glanced about as they walked. The numbers of soldiers was few; fewer than he had thought. Many looked exhausted from the constant vigilance, most had a wound of some sort. "We are still stretched thin after the first two assaults, and our scouts report the orc horde is less than a week of our current location. I don't really know what more we can do ourselves, but now that you are here…"

Arat frowned as he gazed at the three accompanying Nalia. "I'm sorry, I had thought there were more of you the last time you aided us."

"The others will be here shortly." Greywulf said, glancing at the others. "For right now, our focus has got to be on coming up with some kind of strategy, a plan. Their numbers are many, but there must be a way of achieving victory here."

"Aye. Let's get to it then. I will post guards to notify us when your friends arrive."

Captain Arat brought them to what had been the royal dining hall, where plans and warriors hustled through, a flurry of activity as the brave defenders prepared for the coming battle. Nalia and Arat were quick to throw out schemes and plans, where Greywulf and Jaheira gave their ideas and suggestions. The process quickly became quite boring to Imoen, who stole off to do a bit of exploring, not having been with the group the first time they were here. Imoen snuck down the halls of the keep, looking for anything of interest besides libraries and rooms that were piled with armor and weaponry for the sieges they had undergone. She yawned once as she looked through another set of side rooms, noting that she had little idea where she was now, only that it was somewhere on the first floor. Going onto the roof of the castle had been rather unappealing, although if the rest of this place was as boring as this, she'd prefer the open air to the warm fire of the inside.

A voice interrupted her thoughts, echoing from a doorway she was inches from passing by. The voice was a whisper... a fearful stutter in the flickering light of the room. She crept closer in an attempt to make out the words, coming to an open archway where a man stood inside by a roaring hearth fire, speaking into it. He was a broad man, dressed in the armor of the guard, his spear at his side as he talked. He was obviously frightened, constantly glancing around as he spoke. Imoen still couldn't quite hear what he was saying- she murmured the words to an invisibility spell, creeping up as quietly as she could manage. His words slowly came into clarity, "Y-yes, my lord. Things go poorly for the defenders here. The first two strikes have certainly weakened their resolve; your next battalion will wipe them out entirely."

Imoen's eyes narrowed as she listened to the traitor. She drew the short sword from her belt, but nearly dropped it in shock as a booming voice echoed from the fire itself.

"Your incessant monologue is unnecessary. I know how my plans are faring, worm! Now tell me… have you secured the means to open the gate when the orcs arrive?"

"Yes, my lord."

"Good… make sure the gate opens only once Arat has committed all reinforcements to the walls. The orcs will suffer losses, yes, but if there is nobody to initially oppose their entry, victory will be assured. It is about time I faced a new challenge; this one has proven quite the interesting game."

Before the voice could say more, a shimmer went over Imoen's body, unveiling her to mortal sight again. Imoen looked around, then saw the signs of a True Sight dispel in the flames, almost as though there were eyes itself looking through the flame itself to see her. "You fool!" the voice raged. "Behind you! Kill the girl or I will slay you myself!"

The guard whirled around to see Imoen backing up, already chanting the words to a spell. Before he could attack, a Chromatic Orb spell slammed into him, sending him tumbling into a table, overturning it as they tumbled to the floor. Imoen darted forward, not sure if the lethal secondary effect had worked, but intending to make sure, just in case. As she moved, she glanced over at the fire... a mistake. Her gaze was caught inside, unable to tear herself away as she heard the tones of black speech being intoned in the depths of the portal of flame. Something inside it swirled, beckoning, drawing her in. Without warning a terrible darkness enveloped her, drowning her thoughts and emotions in an overwhelming fear. She whirled about, eyes wide with fright as she tried to get away from the terror, but it kept coming, invading her mind and body.

She felt a grip on one wrist, looking down to see a dead hand clutching her. She whirled to see the face behind it, trying to recoil but unable to as she saw the visage of Bodhi leaping at her. She screamed in terror, only to have the vampiress pull her close, her hands groping at her clothes, peeling them off easily. She frantically tried to find her sword, a weapon, anything but found she had nothing and was helpless against her onslaught, unable to fight back as she pushed her onto her back, naked and helpless. Then she spoke and her whole body froze, eyes widened as she lay transfixed.

"Hello, child. I've come to finish what we began."

It was no longer the vampire master Bodhi holding her down, but Jon Irenicus, his face leering down at her, a jagged knife in one hand, dripping with blood… her blood. She looked down at herself to see no longer the carpet and stone floors of the keep, but the long tables and torture devices of Spellhold, her arms and legs strapped down as Irenicus stood over her, his emotionless expression firmly in place.

"No!!" Imoen shrieked in terror as he began cutting again, her body buckling as she tried to escape, but there was nothing, nothing but the feel of Irenicus' knife on her body, the feel of blood trickling down her body as he continued to cut, fire searing through her- "Please…. stop!!"

"Imoen!!" the sound of her name shot through her mind like a windstorm, shocking her mind. Her eyes snapped open though her body was still clenched together, muscles tensed. As her vision returned to her, she slowly looked around to see herself wrapped in a fetal position, the concerned forms of Greywulf and Nalia kneeling beside her. "What's going on? Are you all right?"

"I don't… I don't know." Imoen whispered as she lost consciousness again.


	79. Part 3: Confrontations

_Imoen..._

_Imoen..._

"Imoen!"

The thief-mage sat up with a start, her eyes wide and heart thudding like a drum. Her head spun from side to side, looking for any sign of her pursuers or captors- Greywulf was at her side immediately, his hands holding her arms, attempting to calm her as he sat by her in one of the many bedrooms of the De'Arnise Keep. She was seated on a bed of red and lavender sheets, the torches positioned around the room lighting it despite the scant moonlight drifting through the windows. Night had already fallen- had she truly been unconscious for the whole day?

"Greywulf... where are they?" Imoen whispered, still trying to make sense of her surroundings, of where she was... who she was. Greywulf gently pushed her back down, Imoen still far too tired and dizzy to fight back. "They were here- both of them..."

"Who? Who was here?" Greywulf asked, placing one hand over Imoen's forehead, his own brow knitting in concern as he felt her warm temperature. "Did it have to do with the guard we found-"

"No!" Imoen's voice rose higher, infused with a sudden burst of fear fueled energy. Her eyes were wide, her hands grasping at Greywulf as he unintentionally recoiled from the suddenly frantic girl. "Not him! Them! Irenicus- Bodhi! They came for me- attacked me! Didn't you see them?"

"I..." Greywulf tried to respond without saying what was rapidly becoming apparent to him- Imoen was panicked- fearful- undoubtedly hallucinating. They'd been in the war room, discussing possible plans and stratagems for the oncoming battle- a flare of magic was felt echoing and vibrating through the whole Keep, even as Imoen's screams followed closely behind. They'd raced through the halls, guards in their wake and weapons at the ready until they discovered her convulsing body alongside a dead guard and a blazing fireplace.

She'd come out of the state with a simple dispel- but the terror in her voice, the fear in her eyes- she could have seen anything, felt anything, and would have believed it to be absolutely real. Of that, he had no doubt. "There was nobody there, Imoen. Nobody. You were alone in that room, just you and a corpse. Did he attack you?"

She ignored his question, shaking her head insistently as she tried pushing herself back up to a sitting position. "I saw them! Both Bodhi and Irenicus, they were here…" Imoen's furious insistence trailed off just briefly, as she thought of it more. "I saw them…"

"And we are checking on it." Jaheira's voice cut in, the druid standing behind Greywulf, moving to sit on Imoen's other side, running one hand through Imoen's short pink hair as she shook her head. "Minsc and the others are examining the room we found you in, while Captain Arat and the guard are conducting a room by room sweep. Nalia is in the barracks, under guard by his best men right now. If Irenicus or Bodhi did get in by some miracle, they will not stay hidden for long. Now we brought you here to rest, which I firmly believe you need more of. Do not make me tie you down, child. Your mind and body both need healing."

Imoen listened and remained quiet for a few moments, unable to resist a weak smile at Jaheira's own unique wit... even if she might actually make good on her threat. Finally Imoen shifted and said, "So… you mentioned that Minsc was searching with the others. Does that mean-"

The door to Imoen's bedroom slammed open, a gigantic yet familiar silhouette in the doorframe. "Imoen! We have missed you, yes indeed!" the booming voice echoed through the room as Minsc strode in, shaking one finger at the young mage. "You gave Boo quite a scare to see you unconscious when we came back. I calmed him down, but you should have seen him squirm. Edgy hamsters are not pleasant, believe me!"

"So Boo was the scared one, hmm? Okay, I'll buy that." Imoen chuckled as Minsc bent over gently, embracing her, relief palpable in his tattooed face at seeing her awake and healthy.

Aerie and Keldorn followed behind the ranger, Imoen waving to them as they eyed her, still seated and half covered by her blankets. The Avariel sighed and came over to Imoen's side, replacing Jaheira as the druid stood to speak with Keldorn. Aerie took Imoen by the hand, unable to keep a tone of concern from her voice. "Are you feeling okay? I did tell you two to be careful."

"Yeah well, when you hang around the two of us long enough," Imoen grinned, pushing herself out of bed. "You learn that careful doesn't usually describe either of us too well. But your concern is noted and appreciated. Thanks."

She caught Keldorn's eye, abruptly turning serious. "So? Did you find anything? Any trace of them?"

Keldorn shook his head, shifting the gauntlets that he wore as he spoke. "Nothing, Imoen. Everything in the room was silent- lingering traces of magic, faint whispers of a powerful spell- but that was never in doubt. If the two of them were here, they're long gone now. I would advise you to exercise a bit more caution in the future, lass."

"Yes sir." Imoen gave a mock salute as Keldorn sighed, Greywulf slipping into the silence quickly to bring the focus back to the issue at hand.

"I hate to keep repeating myself, but you still haven't told us what happened in that room." he pried, Imoen finally taking the time to listen and consider his questions. "Why were you in there? Why did you kill the guard- or did you?"

"I... I think I did." she considered, thinking hard as she trudged up the confusing and conflicting memories. "He was... he was talking to someone. Or something- I don't really know. It was in the fire... a presence. I heard them talking about the invasion- the orcs. He said he was going to open the gate when all of the guards were defending the walls- betray the Keep."

"And so you stopped him. Fair enough." Keldorn nodded. "You had little choice... and apparently, however you did it, he was killed. What happened after that?"

"I... I went to see if my spell had killed him." Imoen stuttered, her brow knitting as she began sweating slightly, fear slowly trickling down her spine as she remembered what had happened- a flash of Bodhi's fangs and her outstretched claws as she leapt at Imoen's throat- Imoen closed her eyes tightly, swallowing. Greywulf noticed the change, he put one arm around her, holding her tightly. "It's all right. You're safe- with friends. Take your time... what did you see?"

She calmed herself, inhaling as she steeled herself against the memory. "Bodhi appeared... out of nowhere. She held me down... I couldn't escape, and then Irenicus was there... he started cutting, and the pain just wouldn't stop, I..."

She shuddered, burying her face in Greywulf's shoulder as he held her close. "It's all right... you're all right." He looked up at the others, his face grim. "Let's let her get some more rest. We could all use some, I think. We'll meet up again in eight hours... that'll give us a while yet before the orcs arrive... hopefully long enough to find a way to stop them."

The party filed out of the room quietly, Imoen smiling weakly as each one of them smiled at her, offering their attempts at calming her or their assurances that everything would be okay- the doors closed and Imoen shivered involuntarily, slowly climbing back into her bed, bringing the covers up to her shoulders. The shadows in the room were far too dark for her tastes... and with the memory of what she had suffered at Irenicus' hands so fresh in her mind; the last thing she wanted to be was alone. Then, as if reading her very thoughts, a voice came from the darkness beside her bed... "Sleep, Imoen. For you are not alone. I shall stay by your side as long as you like."

She craned her head, confusion crossing her face as she saw the armored form of Solaufein standing cloaked in the corner, his face grim- as always- but not unkind. In fact, it was almost softer than she had remembered from her previous time spent with the drow. She pushed herself up again, staring at him. "What are you doing in here?"

"It is as I said... a silent watchman, to ensure your safety. You believed that your foes assaulted you; found you in what you thought was safety. It is only natural for you to be afraid that it shall happen again."

"I'm not scared, if that's what yer implying." Imoen scowled at Solaufein, becoming defensive. "I am a mage and a Bhaalspawn to boot. I can take care of myself!"

Solaufein did not reply... after a moment of silence he nodded and turned his back. "Very well. If that is so then I shall depart-"

"Wait!" Imoen raised her hand in a panic, just now realizing how much she was comforted by his presence... anyone's presence, really. She half wondered if this was what Aerie felt like, Minsc as her guardian. "I... I am grateful you're here. I'm sorry if you thought otherwise..."

"Not at all." the drow warrior gave what might have been interpreted as a smile- just maybe- before pulling a chair to Imoen's bedside and sitting down. His red eyes were unblinking as he kept watch, alert for any sign of danger or entry- he saw Imoen shift again and looked at her, the girl's eyes fixed on him. "Yes?"

She paused, considering her words before speaking. "I'm grateful you're here... but why? I mean... you barely know me, or the others. An' I'm sure there's better stuff you could be doing right now, like getting some rest or planning for the attack...why stay here to keep me company? And not tell the others, for that matter? They're probably wondering where you are."

Solaufein cocked his head to one side, shifting his weight. "To answer your second query... I did not wish to embarrass you before your family. I know you would not have wanted to appear weak, or to ask for aid. I told Minsc of my plan- he thought it fitting for you to have a protector as well."

She blushed in embarrassment slightly, thinking about what she had just said and done to Solaufein in an attempt to hide her own perceived weakness. He had her pegged, that was for sure. "So Minsc is hiring protectors for all the witches in the party now, hmm? And the other reason?"

He was much slower in replying this time... he turned his head from her, almost as though ashamed or embarrassed to speak. He waited so long that the silence became almost uncomfortable, Imoen almost ready to speak again. Finally, he spoke, though still faced away from her. "You... intrigue me. In some ways... many ways, I see you and I cannot understand who you are. Who you appear to be and who you say you are. It is... I'm sorry; I do not wish to discomfort you. I fear that I have done so-"

"No, go ahead." Imoen beckoned him as she sat, her interest piqued as he sought the words to speak. "I'm fine. Believe me, I'll let ya know if you're overstepping yer bounds."

The warrior snorted, but quickly returned to his curious study of the girl, choosing his words carefully. "You have such... darkness, around you. Your heritage, your life... it is all filled with shadows and the night. Yet somehow you find beauty and life in all of this. Your spirit remains undimmed- and unchanged by the bitter tests you have been put through."

"Yeah well... I'm not as happy-go-lucky as I might seem." Imoen admitted, shifting uncomfortably. "I... well, I sometimes act this way just because it's the way I'm supposed to act. I mean, everyone expects me to be so cheerful and to never get angry or mad at anyone... it's usually no trouble, because I don't like getting into arguments or fighting with my friends- but ever since Spellhold I just..."

He saw her stiffen, and he immediately stepped in. "Your soul. Without it... the darkness is harder to keep out. To deny."

"Yeah." she smiled weakly. "You sound like you know what I'm talking about. Did you have your soul taken by an insane wizard too?"

Solaufein bowed his head, tugging his gauntlets up as he replied quietly. "In a manner of speaking. You know Phaere and I were lovers at one point... I spoke of how Ardulace and the rest of my accursed kin forced her into the Demonweb Pits and warped her into that beast that you met. What I did not speak of... what I kept hidden, was the full extent of her cruelty. She did not rid Phaere completely of her old self... enough remained to remember what we shared. To remember her feelings for me and how deeply I cared about her. But that was all that remained... the memory. It taunted her, gnawed at her soul, that weakness that I represented. The pain that I caused her- the torture that, had it not been for me, she would never have had to experience. She came to me after the transformation and offered me a chance... a chance to kill her."

"What?" Imoen asked, surprised. "She would have let you-"

"Slit her throat, yes." he said quietly, his face hard as he recounted the tale. "She handed me a dagger and said, 'Kill me now and end the torment that your memory brings me... or I swear that I will never rest until I have destroyed you utterly.' I... I could not do what she asked. And because of it, I was forced to endure the pain and suffering of her machinations for almost five years. Ardulace took everything from me that I once cared about. That offer from Phaere... that one choice cut deeper than any blade could have."

He stopped, trailing off as he ran out of things to say, almost as though he had drained himself of everything that mattered to him, leaving himself exposed and open to Imoen. She spoke, "And... why did you tell me this?"

"I told this to you because I want to learn what you do... to learn how to push away the pain and to deny the darkness that squeezes my soul, just as you do. I look at you and I see Phaere... as I wish she could have been." he stopped, considering what he had said and perhaps realizing that it could have been taken the wrong way. He opened his mouth to speak, but Imoen shushed him, smiling wryly.

"Don't worry about it... I take it as a compliment. And I don't know how much I can 'teach' you, Sol... this is just who I am. But if what you're looking for is someone to open up to... I can do that too."

"Aye... I may at that." he nodded, before frowning lightly. "Sol?"

"Well ya don't expect me to call you Solaufein all the time, right?" she chuckled, pulling her covers up tightly. "Heh. You think that's bad, you should ask Greywulf what his real name is. Sure ain't Greywulf, I'll tell ya that much."

He opened his mouth to speak, saw Imoen's face, calm at last, and thought better of it. He returned to his silent watch... though the burden in his heart was no longer as heavy, no longer so tight. In the darkness, Solaufein allowed himself to feel what felt like for the first time in years, a measure of peace.

X X X X X X X

The sorcerer shook his head, a frown crossing his worn and tired features. "No... I've never seen a Horror spell do anything like that. Terror, yes. Fear so strong it creates a panic, of course. But to have such a lasting effect... and to focus itself so accurately on her greatest fears- no Horror spell does that."

"But you do believe she was attacked magically. By what?" Aerie raised a point, one hand on her side. "She said she saw something in the fireplace... a fire elemental? I've never heard of one acting this way though... what do you think?"

"I think some research will be in order. While the rest of you get some sleep, I'll head to the library. Maybe I can find some scrolls or books on fear related spells- give us some clue as to what we're really dealing with here."

"And what about resting?" Jaheira demanded with a shake of the head. "You cannot go for so long without rest. Surely you need sleep as much as we all do. The research will be there come the morn."

"But the orcs will be here soon too." Greywulf countered. "I'll be fine."

Keldorn had remained silent until now... finally, he spoke, his expression grim and nerve steeled. "Greywulf, may I speak with you for a moment- alone?"

He frowned at the request- his tone and his face did not reflect any kind of goodwill or approval. He felt his internal guard rise and his own determination harden as he faced the noble paladin. "Of course... I'll see the rest of you when you wake."

The others shuffled out, looking at him and Keldorn with a hint of nervousness- it only served to raise his guard further, his companions acting like they already knew what Keldorn wanted to speak with him about.

He inhaled lightly folding his arms as he stood across from the paladin. Keldorn, on the other hand, did not move or fold his posture defensively or otherwise; he merely stood and waited until there was no chance of the others overhearing. His noble features were as neutral and unreadable as ever when he spoke, knowing the difficulty of what he would be about to say. "Greywulf, you know as well as I that we are men of action- mincing words and half-truths are not our way. Therefore, I shall speak to you true and plain, and I hope you will extend to me the same courtesy."

"I do not believe that you are making the right decision, holding us here at the Keep, defending this stronghold from the oncoming storm. Our numbers are too small- Nalia's men are too tired and worn. They've fought bravely, but to remain here without backup or support will be nothing short of suicide."

Greywulf narrowed his eyes, trying to remain calm- a surprisingly hard thing for the sorcerer to do. Keldorn could see his ire flashing through his whole body- the anger was rising up within him already... not like him at all. He was obviously fighting to push it away, but it was here that Keldorn realized just how much his self-control was beginning to slip. "You want us to run? Abandon this place to the orcs and whoever's behind all this? I don't think you realize what's at stake here-"

"No, Greywulf. It is you who does not." he retorted, though he kept his posture and voice as non-threatening as possible. "The entire city of Suldenesselar is depending on our ability to find Bodhi, return the Rhynn Lanthorn, and you are putting us in a danger far greater than anything we have faced before. We are not an army- you cannot treat us like one."

"With all due respect, Keldorn, since when did you become the leader of this group?" he growled back, fists tightening. "I told Nalia we'd help her. I gave her my word. I'm not backing down from this. I'm no coward."

"I did not say you were, but there is a difference between cowardice and recklessness. You are putting your friends, your family in mortal danger. If they die here, if we die... the blood of the elves and of all of your friends will be on your head. Is that something you can live with?" Keldorn answered him briskly.

Maybe he was beginning to listen to reason- or perhaps the thought of his companions being harmed was getting to him, but he seemed to lose some of the rigidity in his form, the anger in his voice. "And what would you have us do instead? Evacuate the Keep? Get Nalia and her men as far away from here as possible?"

The paladin seized the opportunity. "Yes. If we start now, we can get everyone out before the orcs arrive, and be well on our way to Athkatla. I will speak with Prelate Wessaren. As soon as the armies of the Radiant Heart have returned, they will gladly take up arms to reclaim this fort. It is not a surrender... merely a tactical decision that will save lives."

Greywulf was silent for a moment... and then, just like that, his eyes flared and Keldorn knew any hope he had entertained of getting the young man to listen to him was lost. "I don't think so. We're staying right here, and we're going to fight, and we're going to win. If you can't deal with this decision, then you can make that trip back to Athkatla. Call the Radiant Heart. We'll be here doing what needs to be done."

The memory of his conversation with Jaheira, right after Greywulf had turned into the Slayer for the first time, resonated through Keldorn's mind. _"What needs to be done..."_ He inhaled sharply, then leveled one finger at the sorcerer, before turning on his heel and heading for the war room where Captain Arat was residing. "You are making a mistake. I only pray it does not prove to be the ruin of us all."

Greywulf watched him go, the back of his armor glimmering in the torch light provided through the halls of the Keep. He felt his stomach turn a knot, even as a familiar voice slipped into his thoughts. _**"You know he will betray you. Kill him now... rid us of his self-righteous interference."**_

The Slayer... he growled, turning swiftly, putting as much distance between Keldorn and him as possible, his grey cloak whipping behind him. The library... some study alone would do him good. Just a chance to clear his head; unmuddle his thoughts... to restore his self-control. It had gotten bad, there, talking to Keldorn. He had wanted so much to shout at the man, to lash out and strike him... and the urge was getting harder to control. Ever since the Underdark... a coincidence? No. He pushed the idea away, and focused on nothing but the stone walls around him as he navigated through the halls until he reached the room he sought.

The door was already ajar- light stabbed through from lit torches inside and the sound of someone ruffling pages could be heard. He frowned, slowly pushing the oak door open- Jaheira's form sat at the table, leaning over one of the tomes as she silently read. His presence was noted by her immediately- she had probably known it was him before he even opened the door. She looked up at him, a slight smile gracing her features. He returned it, moving to sit beside her. "I thought you said you were going to get some sleep?"

"I did say that." she replied easily. "And I told you to get some rest as well. The faster you complete your research, the faster you will get to bed. I am simply here to expedite the process."

"Really? And this has nothing to do with finding out what Keldorn and I were talking about?" he replied, surprising himself that he had brought the touchy issue up again so quickly. Was he really that upset with the paladin?

She snorted and leaned back, shaking her head. "Surely you know that if I was interested, I would have simply asked. From the way you bring it up so quickly, I would venture to say you want to tell someone about it."

He considered it... maybe it would be good to talk about it. Get it off his chest. Let her agree with him, to know he wasn't simply doing... doing what? Putting his friends in danger for nothing? Endangering the elves, the people of the Keep, himself... he ran one hand through his hair, slowly nodding. "He said we should leave. That we should come back in force, and focus on keeping everyone alive."

"Sounds like good advice." Jaheira noted- Greywulf frowned in surprise. "You look at me as if you expected me to disagree, Greywulf. Have you considered that what he says might make some sense?"

"Jaheira, he's suggesting abandoning this Keep to the orcs without so much as a skirmish!" he shot back incredulously. "How can you side with him on this?"

"He's suggesting saving the lives of everyone inside, including our own!" Jaheira countered, her tone still edged. "Both you and Imoen are still missing your souls. Irenicus must still be stopped from whatever he's planning. Elhan and the elves of Suldenesselar are counting on us; can we take this risk?"

Greywulf shook his head in partial disbelief, his voice rising in tone and irritation as he spoke. "I don't believe this. It's our duty to stop these orcs!"

"Duty? We are not part of an army; we are not generals to lead the defense in a war!" Jaheira retorted sharply. "Why are you doing this? Why is your bloodlust, your desire for battle so strong? If your taint is growing strong over your will, you need to tell us so we can help you!"

"It's not the taint, woman!" Greywulf shouted back, slamming his book closed. "I don't believe what I'm hearing. Apparently the only ones I can trust here are madmen, drow, and Bhaalspawn!"

"Greywulf…" Jaheira's voice turned to ice, a warning apparent for him to quit before he said something else stupid. "I would consider your words a bit more carefully when speaking about those who have sacrificed the people they love to follow you."

The implications were not unfelt by the half-elf... still, he turned away from her and said with a cold tone to match, "Perhaps I should research alone. Less distraction."

Jaheira's look could have killed, but she stood and strode out the door, slamming it shut with all the fury and rage of the things that were said... things that should never have been said.

X X X X X X

Arkanis let out a war cry as he spun, his dual long swords flashing as he moved. The vampire beside him screamed as one sword slashed across its chest, the other decapitating it. As that vampire dissipated, its gaseous form retreating back to the coffin it had come from, Arkanis moved to aid his fellow assassins in their own battles. Their vampire hunting expeditions in the streets of Athkatla were successful every night as of late, sometimes more so than they would like. Just this night they had encountered upwards of a dozen, and while it was no problem for a group of elite assassins such as himself and those he commanded, other Shadow Thieves would have been overwhelmed by so much battle in one night. Worse yet, their enemy never truly died, only weakened enough that it would have to spend a few days recovering in their coffin before their physical bodies were strong enough to fight again.

They were not so lucky, and every Shadow Thief that fell weakened their guild even further, more so that many of the fallen returned to fight as vampires. It was a losing war, one that many were growing tired of. The return of Greywulf and his companions had renewed hope in the organization, hope that with Aran Linvail and the Bhaalspawn working together, Bodhi would be defeated once and for all. Aran told his men they were growing close to the end- that Bodhi would be destroyed soon and their war would end in victory. Still, only the lesser members believed him. Only those who didn't know what he and the top lieutenants did... they were losing, badly. Each day more territory and bases were lost to the cabal. Aran had yet to discover the location of Bodhi's new lair- until the vampire mistress was found, they were stuck doing the same routine patrols, hoping to keep the vampires from becoming too audacious in their power grabs. Shaking his head of the depressing thoughts, he crept up to one vampire who was backing away from two other opponents, looking for an opening. Arkanis rose up behind the creature from the shadows and plunged both blades into the vampire's back, a perfect maneuver. This particular vampire crumpled into dust, only a fledgling vampire and not powerful enough to rejuvenate itself yet.

Arkanis looked around to assure himself all their foes were dispatched, then barked a few orders to head back to the guild hall. No casualties tonight... one of the few nights where they proved so fortunate. As the assassins prepared to leave, Arkanis glanced at the small pile of dust on the stones the vampire had fallen upon. There were shreds of cloth as well, the remains of the raggedy coat the vampire had been wearing. Arkanis frowned as he knelt by the dusty scraps, picking up one and examining it more closely. There was… some sort of pattern, or design on it, he couldn't tell exactly what, but it seemed somewhat familiar. He gazed at it for a second, the others noticing and coming over to see what was happening. Yachmoto, another of the elite assassin group bent over and whispered, "Arkanis… we must be moving soon. Dawn approaches and the Shadowmaster will want a full report as soon as possible."

Arkanis nodded and smiled grimly, standing to look Yachmoto face to face. "Yes… and I think he'll be most pleased with what we have to say, especially if this is what I think it is."

Yachmoto frowned, glanced at the shred of cloth Arkanis held tight to his chest. "What are you talking about, Arkanis?"

"The one thing we've been looking for this whole time, my friend." the assassin replied as he sheathed both weapons, and began the long road back toward the heavily guarded Shadow Thief fortress. "The location of Bodhi's new lair. A prize far greater than any quota of vampire kills we could bring. Linvail must know immediately. With any luck, this guild war might just be close to an end."

X X X X X X

"Stubborn, unwilling, arrogant son of a b…" Jaheira's furious raging was beginning to slow down a bit, but her voice could still be heard in the room over- she had declined to join the others after they had gathered the next morning, preferring to be alone for some time... an idea that the others tended to agree with, considering her present mood.

A particularly loud string of curses echoed from the room over- Aerie winced as she listened, looking over at Keldorn as he sat opposite her; they wanted to trust Greywulf- but none could deny Keldorn's logic. Greywulf's increasingly erratic behavior was cause for concern as well- the only pair who was still unwilling to relent in their defense of the sorcerer was Imoen and Minsc. Imoen glared resolutely at Keldorn, as though blaming him for their current disagreement.

"Should someone go try and talk to either of them?" Aerie voiced. "Greywulf's still in the library- I don't think he ever got to sleep last night. And Jaheira... well-"

"Don'tcha worry about a thing." Imoen shrugged, putting her feet up on the table they sat around, reclining on a chair obviously not meant for leaning back in such a manner. "This is nothing. Just vanilla Greywulf-and-Jaheira interaction. This is exactly how things went when they first met, you know? Greywulf would say or do something stupid to get us all into trouble at best, mortal danger at worst, Jaheira would get angry and complain about it until everyone was absolutely sick of it, Greywulf would turn whatever he did or said into something good- usually by saving our butts- Jaheira would forgive him for it while giving some sort of half-baked apology disguised as a compliment disguised as an insult; it's like a dance they do every so often. Only usually there's only two people involved... Keldorn."

"I shall not apologize for attempting to save your life along with everyone else here." he said grimly, enough steel in his tone to keep Imoen from pressing the issue. "This is all beside the point. We still don't have much time. By Nalia's scouts, the orc horde will be upon the keep in nearly four days. If we hurry we can evacuate by then, or we can come up with some manner of reasonable defense, one that might not get us all killed."

"Then we should prepare for battle! We must stand and fight no matter what the cost!" Minsc said, slapping his leg as he stood. "If we are to die, then Minsc will see us go in a blaze of valiant honor and glory!"

The others seemed to look at Keldorn... it was on him, truthfully. His dissension had garnered mistrust and doubt in their ranks, something he had never intended. So long as he continued to doubt Greywulf's judgment, the others would do so as well. It could not be both ways- if they were to stay and fight, then he had to be with them, one hundred percent. He sighed, meeting Minsc's gaze. "You believe in him without question, Minsc... in all my years, I have never met one with more heart, honor, or courage than you. I shall follow your lead. It seems we are destined for this battle- let it be so, then. Captain Arat and the others are waiting for us in the war room. I shall depart and prepare with them. I imagine he will want all of us to be there... Imoen."

Imoen merely sniffed and turned her head as Keldorn shot her a slight look of warning, no doubt to ensure there would be no more jaunts off into the castle by herself. Still, his concession and willingness to stand by her brother had appealed to her sense of forgiveness, and the look of irritation was no longer there when she looked at him. "Fine with me."

"I'll go tell Greywulf. Someone should probably get Jaheira as well-" Aerie began- the door opened behind Aerie, whose back was to the entry.

"No need. I will speak with him myself." Jaheira stood in the doorway, her features softened from the barely suppressed anger they had seen in her eyes earlier that morning. "After all, I wouldn't want anyone to get absolutely sick of my complaining."

She did an about-face and strode off before Imoen could say anything, heading back towards Greywulf's study area, thoughts of what she could say to him racing through her head. When she finally reached the doorway, she took a deep breath, entering to find him not even looking at the books open in front of him, instead staring into space before him. He either did not notice her entrance or simply chose to ignore it. His posture was bent, shoulders slumped with a weariness she had rarely seen him with before. Even the streak of silver in his hair, usually bright and vibrant, was dimmed and dull, as though dead without the energy of the man before her.

"You appear to be working hard." Jaheira's voice interrupted his darkened thoughts; his head turned just slightly to see the woman behind him.

"What is it?"

Jaheira stiffened, Greywulf's words right to the point, empty of the usual banter and humor. "We're all going down to the war room; we must decide on a course of action- how to best defend the keep from the coming storm. Keldorn has given his support- we will stand and fight."

"Good luck then."

His curt, dry responses did not encourage or aid her as she tried to enliven him, to get a response- any response- from him. "It would be appropriate for you to be there, you know. Or have you abandoned this venture after fighting so hard to keep us here?"

"Why should I help? I'm no tactician. Keldorn's much more suited for the job. I've still got studying to do." Greywulf said, turning back to the open tome before him.

"Greywulf!" Jaheira strode in front of him and slammed the book closed he was looking at, forcing him to look up at her angry features. "Why are you being so damned childish about this? What is your problem? Whatever it is, get over it and help us! Lead like you're supposed to!"

Greywulf stood to meet her, but instead of anger, his face showed stony calm. Somehow, this disconcerted Jaheira more than fury would have. "Jaheira?"

She studied his face, and after a moment answered him. "What?"

He was silent for a few more moments, before speaking. "Do… you know, how I feel?"

Before she could answer, he spoke again, his eyes growing more intense and pained with each passing second. "I feel… I am _empty_."

The last word was almost a whisper, but it contained more passion and emotion than she had thought possible. Words seemed to spill out of his mouth faster and faster as he spoke, each one touched with audible pain and anger. "I have no soul, Jaheira. Irenicus took it, stole it from me and left a gaping hole where it should be; emotions, feelings like love, peace, joy, they're all… slipping away. He's turning me into what he was… a monster with no feelings or essence, or…anything. All that's left is the taint… every passing moment I feel the tug of murder, anger, hatred… all of it grows stronger while what I want, what I desire fades away. I have nothing left to hold onto. The only time I can feel anything... anything remotely like I'm alive is when I'm fighting. When I'm killing."

"Greywulf... this is not you. Think about what you are saying-" she said in alarm, but he backed away from her, his voice still raw and his eyes still haunted.

"I know exactly what I'm saying, Jaheira... and it scares me more than any orc or vampire." he raised his arm, keeping her at distance. "I have to fight... have to keep myself occupied with something, anything... anything to fill this void. Don't you see?"

"Greywulf…" Jaheira whispered, approaching him as he trembled, eyes red with unshed tears. "If you need to hold onto something… hold onto your friends, your family. Hold onto me…"

She took his hand and clutched it between her two hands, her fingers mingling with his. He looked down at her expression of trust, her touch- and pulled away. He turned in what looked like shame and embarrassment. "I'm sorry, Jaheira. Please… leave me."

"You don't have to be alone, Greywulf." she offered quietly, turning away, knowing that no words she could say could fill him.

As she left, Greywulf closed his eyes and whispered, "It's too late for that… I am alone."


	80. Part 3: Evil Unmasked

The young boy ran through the large corridors, puffing and huffing as he went. He tugged quickly at one of his slightly oversized robes in order to keep it from falling too low and tripping him as he ran, doing his very best to reach his destination in time. Master Val Hurst was awaiting the scrolls he carried, and it wouldn't do to keep him waiting overly long, especially since he should have probably delivered them a half hour ago. It had just been so curious, the two armored half-elves, coming and speaking to Gorion of all people, in his private quarters, right after he had been sent to deliver the scrolls. How could he have been expected not to listen- although he doubted either Gorion or Val Hurst would approve of him eavesdropping.

It didn't, he supposed as he rested by a large pillar to collect his breath, help that he hadn't even heard anything interesting or remotely worth of gossiping to the inkeep Winthrop about. All he had heard was them talking about some girl, probably the latest sorceress in the magical community or something. He didn't have a chance to hear much more, after bumping into that small set of chimes resting near the door. _Who puts chimes next to a doorway? _he thought to himself as he ran.

He had bolted right after, but not before wasting nearly fifteen minutes there. He grimaced as he thought about what would happen if they discovered he had been eavesdropping. The voice of Master Val Hurst rang in his mind, the deep bass tone resounding, _I am very disappointed in you, young one._ He especially didn't want Gorion to be disappointed in him, not after he had been doing so well in his lessons lately. He hadn't messed up too many cantrips; actually he had been quite well. Gorion was his father, and even though he knew his real father was someone else, he didn't care. Gorion had raised him, trained him in what he knew of the magic arts, and taught him the values he held dear. Nobody could take his place and he would have done anything to please the older man. Even so… the boy sighed as he stopped briefly to take a quick breather.

He would have given much for someone… anyone to play with. Granted, he played hide and go seek with Winthrop every now and then, usually when he was being chased for some prank he had pulled, but he really wanted a playmate, someone his own age to be friends with, get into trouble with… that sort of thing. Every now and then a noble or knight or wizard would come to Candlekeep with a child near his age, but he was never given the chance to see or play with them. It was… depressing. But it was not his place to question this, he supposed. Gorion knew best, and would do everything necessary to raise him properly.

So, after resting next to a hall pillar for a few seconds, he took off down the hall once more, his footsteps thudding down the carpet as he rounded a corner at top speed… only to crash into another body, the papers he clutched flying through the air to land throughout the hall, atop the befuddled pair on the ground. He hurriedly jumped to his feet, snatching the papers as quick as possible, mumbling an apology for the person he had ran into, not even taking the time to look at who he had bumped into. He had never moved faster, so frightened he was of being late, he barely heard the irritated cry from behind him as he ran once more, "Hey! Watch where yer goin!"

He winced mentally, realizing just how rude he must have been as he kept moving, but his introspection was interrupted as he finally made his way into the grand library Master Val Hurst frequented so often. He looked around, scanning the numerous monks and other figures shuffling about the massive room, reading and studying as they went. Nothing was immediately forthcoming, so he stepped in, trying not to look rushed as he went, hoping to spy Master Val Hurst so as to appear with some semblance of courtesy. He scanned the robed figures, his keen eyes picking each face and discarding it as soon as he confirmed it was not the man he sought, looking harder and harder…

"Are you, perchance, searching for me, young wizard? Ye are somewhat late, I notice."

He nearly dropped the stack of scrolls he held as he jumped, startled by the man behind him. He quickly turned and looked upward, to see the craggy face of the monk he sought looking down at him, eyes studying him, almost as though reading right into his mind and scrying the reason for his tardiness.

"I… I am truly sorry, master. I was delayed… It will not happen again." the young lad said, bowing once as he handed the man the stack of spell scrolls he carried.

"Hmph." Val Hurst grunted just slightly as he accepted the parchments, before looking to the boy again. "Perhaps you should tell me the reason for thy delay? Maybe not… Gorion has sent for thee, and thou wouldst do well not to keep him waiting in this matter. It sounded of utmost importance."

"Yes, master." he said, before doing a quick about face, fairly running out of the room, relieved that the monk had not pried further into why he had been so late. Of more interest though was the reason for Gorion wanting to see him so urgently. Perhaps a new spell for him to learn? That thought got him rather excited, seeing as Gorion had taught him only the most basic of cantrips so far, such as Fetch, Dazzling Lights, simple stuff that any mageling could manage. Gorion had told him more than once that his magical ability was great, and more focused than most wizards. Perhaps he would finally get to learn a real spell, like Magic Missile?

As he smiled at the thought, allowing his ego to swell just a bit, he suddenly remembered why he wasn't talking with Gorion already. He winced, thinking of the eavesdropping incident. His blood froze as he mulled it over in his brain, the odds of learning a full wizard spell rather than getting into trouble for snooping running through his mind. With his luck, he had little doubt why Gorion had wanted to speak with him. With his excitement severely deflated, he trudged into Gorion's room hesitantly, trying to look semi-cheerful, running over different apologies in his head and trying to decide which one sounded the most sincere and likely to get him out of trouble.

"I am glad to see you, my child." Gorion's fatherly tone immediately sent a wave of relief into Greywulf; at least he didn't sound stern. Perhaps he wasn't too upset.

"Yes, father?" the lad stood before Gorion, the older man walking over to sit on a large chair, motioning for him to come and speak with him.

He approached Gorion and sat at the foot of his chair, while the mage stroked his beard, peering down at his young ward. Privately, if only to himself, Gorion wondered if this was the right decision. He deserved something akin to a normal childhood, and he had taken all measures to ensure he received the love and care he needed, raising him in the ways of righteousness, hoping to counter the tainted blood that ran through his veins. Even so, Gorion saw the ache in the child's heart, the desire all children had for someone to relate to; a role he could not fill, at least not completely. However, this was… different. One Bhaalspawn was dangerous enough… bringing a second one to Candlekeep, even as unlikely as the girl seemed?

Gorion shook his head just briefly, banishing any more fear or doubt. He had made the decision to ask for help the first time- in the end, it had been more trouble than it was worth. He had disregarded the advice of many of his Harper kin in bringing the boy here. He'd be damned if he asked them about her, only to get their condemnation. He would live… or die with his decision, and his alone. He noticed the boy's expression, picking up on Gorion's hesitation and the expression on his face grew concerned.

"Is… is all well, father? Have I done something wrong?" he asked hesitantly, once again awaiting a rebuke.

"Nay, I was merely thinking." Gorion answered with a smile. "Actually, I have some exciting news, or what I hope will be exciting for you. We have a… new addition to the fortress here."

He sat silent for a moment, not sure he understood what Gorion was saying, then frowned and answered, "Do you mean… someone else has come to Candlekeep? Another student?"

"Sort of." Gorion said with a hint of a smile tugging at the corner of his mouth. "A child, just about your age recently was brought to my attention, a child very similar to you in respects. She also does not know her parents and I have agreed to take her in here, at Candlekeep."

"Another child? Here to stay?" he asked, scarce believing.

"I presume by your expression you are pleased." Gorion laughed. "Here. Perhaps you two should meet. Master Val Hurst, please bring young Imoen in."

The older monk walked in, a young girl at his side. She was a little shorter than he, dressed in a brown and yellow tunic. Her hair was straight and a little longer than shoulder length, a brownish red color. Her face bore a bright smile, betraying no fear, but the smile was one of innocence and cheer. Just being in the room seemed to uplift his spirits as he looked at her.

"Imoen, this is the boy we spoke to you of."

"So… yer the famous Galmarath, huh?" the girl said, cocking her head to one side as she walked up to Galmarath, the boy standing as she approached. "Well, I'm Imoen. Pleased to meetcha!"

She thrust out her hand to him, who slowly but gratefully took it and shook. "I suppose you two have much to talk about and discuss, so you are excused from your studies for the rest of the day, Galmarath."

"Thank you, father!" he cried happily as he raced with Imoen towards the door.

"However," Gorion cleared his throat, causing the two to pause briefly, "That does not mean I have forgotten your eavesdropping earlier today. Tomorrow we will discuss the details of that particular punishment."

"And I will be expecting the Magic Missile spell scroll back as well, young one." Val Hurst added. "While you two are visiting, retrieve it from wherever you stashed it on the way here and bring it to me some time tomorrow."

"But I-" Galmarath began, but he was quickly shooed out by the monk, closing the door behind him.

"Wow. You sure got nailed, huh?" Imoen smirked, looking at his downcast expression. "Maybe if ya watched where you were goin better, you wouldn't have this problem."

"That's just it, I-" Galmarath was about to continue, to point out that he hadn't taken the scroll, when her words clicked. "Wait… you were the one I bumped into back in the hall!"

"Right as rain." Imoen laughed. "If you had taken the time to even look at me, you might also have noticed when I palmed this."

She slipped the scroll out from her sleeve and held it out for Galmarath to take. "Like I said, Imoen, Master Thief, at yer service!"

He laughed and reached out to take it, but Imoen abruptly pulled the scroll back, a critical tone in her eyes. "What's with the laughing? You don't believe me or something?"

"No, I do, really." he said, "It's just… you're kind of young to be a thief, right? I'm already ten, and I still don't know any real magic spells, just a few cantrips… so I doubt you're a 'Master Thief' already!"

"Hmph." Imoen said, scowling as she folded her arms, the scroll still dangling from her hand. "It just so happens I'm ten years old too! And besides, I bet I know more about thieving than you do about magic!"

Galmarath opened his mouth, ready to toss out a counter, but he quickly shut it. She was probably right in all respects, and even though he wanted them to be friends, it wasn't quite going the way he had imagined. Perhaps if he changed the subject, they might get along better… or at least that's what he told himself.

Imoen grinned triumphantly as he remained silent, then continued, "That's what I thought. And besides, what kinda name is Galmarath, anyways? Don't wizards have cool names like Elminster, or Khelben Blackstaff, or-"

The boy grew peeved enough at this remark that he unthinkingly interrupted with a retort, "Well, what kind of name is Imoen, huh? I think it's silly!"

Imoen's mouth shut at that, stepping back as she looked down, her expression going from happy to downcast instantly. Galmarath hesitated, then ran one hand down the back of his neck, wincing as a small tear began to glimmer in one of her eyes.

"Aw… Imoen, I was just making fun, that's all, I didn't mean it! I…uh, I don't think it's silly at all!" he sheepishly said, walking over to the girl, trying to cheer her as he watched all his dreams of a childhood companion slipping away.

"You don't?" her voice, formerly bright and loud, was a soft whisper, tinged with that of a child on the verge of crying.

"No! No, I think it's a great name! It's much better than Galmarath!" he said, words spilling from his mouth in an attempt to keep her from crying. If Gorion looked and saw her crying in the first five minutes of their meeting, he might take her away, and then he'd be alone again after he'd gotten his hopes up, and…

"Great! Now that we've got the matter of who's got the better name down, we can get started!" Imoen bounded up, her face once again smiling and bright, no hint of sadness in her features.

Galmarath watched her leap away, jumping backwards as she motioned for him to follow. His mind couldn't quite follow her and take in what had just happened, so all he could come up with was a "Huh?"

"Meh, it was just a joke!" she laughed, making a face mockingly similar to the one she had just worn, bottom lip trembling with sadness. "Yeesh, how are we gonna be best friends if you can't take a simple joke?"

Any indignation or irritation that had entered the boy vanished when she spoke those last words; his eyes brightened, following her quickly. "You mean it?"

"Yeah, sure! Galmarath and Imoen, off on a set of whirlwind adventures!" she laughed, slowing long enough for him to catch up to her. "Although…"

"What?" he asked, Imoen rubbing her chin in thought.

"We still have to do something about the name. We've already decided I have the better one, so I get to decide your new name, okay?" Imoen said, nodding her head in approval of, presumably, her own idea.

"What's wrong with my name?" he finally asked, still uncertain of her purpose to this.

"I told ya, if you're gonna be the powerful and mysterious wizard to go with my charming and beautiful thief, you gotta have a name that sounds… magical." Imoen punctuated the last word with a flourish, waving the scroll in her hand.

Galmarath took the opportunity to snatch the scroll and tuck it into his robes, but Imoen was back into thinking of a name for him, and having apparently grown bored with fighting over the scroll, made no attempt to reclaim it. "I rather like the name Galmarath."

"Yeah, but that's only because you've been called it all yer life." Imoen countered. "How about… Gandalf!"

Resigned to the idea that Imoen would settle for nothing less than a new name, he sighed and considered her ideas. "Sounds too old."

"Hmm… Jinn Kortana!"

"Eh… too long. A wizard's title should be short enough he can announce it and begin spell casting quickly. 'He who casts first usually casts best'." Galmarath said, pleased with himself for remembering his lessons, and having someone to show off to by reciting them.

"Meh, fine. One word names." Imoen waved her hand, then returned to thought. "How about…Halkeris!"

"No." Galmarath shook his head, vehemently.

"Why not?" Imoen demanded.

"Because it's my name, and you finally got me interested in this. So now we're gonna get me a good name that I like. Besides, 'Halkeris and Imoen,' just doesn't sound right." Galmarath said, his arms folded as he argued his points.

"Point taken." she shrugged. "Although few names can match the sheer beauty of 'Imoen.' Kinds just rolls off the tongue, don't it? Imoen. Immmooooeeennnn."

"Excuse me? Still nameless here." Galmarath interrupted.

"Heh. You are, aren'tcha? Well, how about Gorion Jr.?"

"Imoen! Now you're just being silly!"

"All right, all right… what about Grayhand?"

"Actually…" Galmarath thought about it for a second, then nodded. "I kinda like it. Sounds dark and mysterious!"

"Too bad, cause I don't like it now." Imoen folded her arms, shaking her head.

Galmarath slapped his face into his hand as she giggled uncontrollably. "Just kidding! But actually… it does need work. You need something that feels… scary, but not too scary! Something that's semi-scary, mysterious, and cool! What animals do you like?"

"I've always liked wolves…"

"That's it then! Graywolf!" Imoen shouted with glee, pulling a small piece of chalk from her pocket and writing the name out on the stone floor. As they both stared at it, Galmarath frowned and said, "Something's wrong."

"Aside from the fact you're defacing the walls and floors of this fortress in your first fifteen minutes together?" Gorion's voice caused both of them to jump, whirling to see the wizard standing there with arms folded, tapping one foot as he looked down at them, a wry smile across his bearded face.

"We had to think up a new name for Galmarath, and we couldn't very well decide until we saw it written out, y'know?" Imoen blurted out quickly, flashing that innocent smile again, shrugging as she put the chalk away quickly and quietly, hoping it wouldn't be noticed.

"Indeed." Gorion shook his head and motioned for the chalk, to which a huffing Imoen handed it over, quite displeased with giving up the item.

"However…" Gorion bent down to the poorly written name and examined it for a moment before making some changes to the name, "The name isn't so bad. It needs a few changes, a few select spelling augmentations… there. Greywulf."

Galmarath looked down at the spelling of the new name, then beamed at Gorion. "I really like it! Can I keep it?"

"Yeah, can he?" Imoen joined in the pleading.

He laughed again, then noticed the seriousness on both Imoen and Galmarath's faces. He looked up for a second, then met their gazes and said, "I shall think about it. However, my decision will be delayed indefinitely until you two get some water and brushes and clean up this chalk. Talk to me then and we'll see."

Imoen gave Galmarath a quick push and shouted as she ran off, "Race you to the buckets, Greywulf!"

He laughed and gave chase, staying on her heels as they ran. Gorion watched with a contented sigh. Perhaps things would work out after all. Sometimes Faerun, amidst all the madness and death he regularly saw and struggled against, could deal a kind hand of fate. Perhaps the two of them would complement each other quite well, Imoen and Galmarath, the two Bhaalsp- No. Not Imoen and Galmarath. Imoen… and Greywulf.

X X X X X X

Imoen's name ran through his mind as he thought about his first meeting with her, so many years ago in Candlekeep. Things had been so simple then, no worries about Bhaalspawn and soul-stealing wizards… Greywulf smiled sadly as he stared into the room before him, his eyes randomly flitting across the books before him on the library wall. The memory was usually as clear as day to him, but as of late, it was growing harder and harder to hold onto such distant yet fond thoughts.

She had been the cause of so many laughs and happy memories, he couldn't imagine what his life would have turned out like without her to stay with him. She had shaped his life in so many subtle, unconscious ways, even when she was doing something as ridiculous as demanding he have a new name for their playtime. The name had indeed stuck, and soon nobody except Gorion ever called him by Galmarath, and that only when the matter was very serious.

He owed so much to all of his companions, so many debts he could never repay. All of them had given their blood and sweat and time to him, guarding him and following him into dangers he had never dreamed of; perils of which he would have sent them away had he known what they were. Two of his friends had died for him… one leaving behind a wife, the other a confused guardian who blamed himself. There was nothing that could make up for their loss, nothing to fill the empty place that each one had taken in all their hearts. He could still hear Khalid's kind and gentle voice, the mediator of the group when tempers hit a boiling point. He had always been able to slip in somehow with his endearing, stuttering voice and calm nerves, bringing the anger down and the peace back to the camp. He doubted that Jaheira and he could have ever learned to tolerate each other's company without Khalid's influence.

Dynaheir had meant so much as well… for the diplomat Khalid had been to the group's inside, Dynaheir had been the diplomat to the outside. Her rich, Wychalarian accent had always been so full and powerful, she combined the sheer forcefulness of Jaheira and the gentle side of Khalid to demonstrate a charisma Greywulf could only dream of. She had been mistaken for the leader of the group several times, despite usually being the most reserved member of the team. Greywulf wished he could have said a final goodbye to the two of them… Keldorn and Aerie were both part of his 'family,' but nobody could take the place of Khalid and Dynaheir. Never. And yet... they were, all of them, slowly growing further and further from his thoughts. His heart. The anger and despair he had blasted both Keldorn and Jaheira with was fainter now, after so long a period of solace- but still the memory of it haunted him. Not so much what he had done or said, more that he could not find it in him to forgive them or himself. His mind told him exactly what Keldorn was saying, and everything Jaheira had said made sense. Why couldn't he simply listen, then?

His eyes focused just briefly, but before he could do anything more, a loud rap at the side of the door sent him whirling to see the cause, only to find the very girl he had been thinking of leaning up against the door, a lopsided grin on her face.

"Imoen… I was just thinking of you." he said, nodding for her to come in as he smiled. "Please, come in. Although I'm surprised you're not with the others."

"Nah, I'm not much for the planning stage of things. I prefer the actual action." Imoen shrugged as she bounded into the room, hands tucked into her pockets. She unslung the bow that rested across her shoulders as she did, running one hand up and down the shaft.

"I see you're feeling better... I'm glad. I was pretty worried there for a while..." he offered, her presence calming him... completing him, in many ways. Greywulf and Imoen- no other bond in the group could match it. Not now, not ever. He let himself smile as he thought of it- Imoen noticed his grin and smiled back in confusion.

"Whatcha looking at? Don't go all mushy on me now... save that for Aerie." she laughed and Greywulf began to join her- the memory of his betrayal, his theft of her memory came unbidden back to his mind, and he nearly froze. No... why couldn't he simply be happy?! He shook the darkness from his head and focused on Imoen once again, slowly growing serious.

"Imoen? Do you remember when we first met?"

"Heh. How could I forget? I saw stars, you ran into me so hard." Imoen grinned as she thought about it, plopping down on a table nearby as she let her legs dangle back and forth above the floor. "In fact, that's probably the earliest thing I do remember. Not much before our meeting, really."

"Really?" Greywulf asked, surprised. "Nothing at all?"

"Sure. There's never really been a 'me,' without an 'us.' Greywulf and Imoen, all the way!" Imoen laughed. "And I wouldn't have it any other way, neither!"

"I guess that's true… it has always been the two of us, getting into trouble, getting out of it… I wish I could have saved you from it this time." Greywulf offered, swallowing hard. Was this the way things would be from now on, until he got his soul back? Would every good memory of his friends and family be replaced by a wound or betrayal that would consume his thoughts?

Imoen shifted uncomfortably as she watched his face slowly grow dark, his eyes betraying the pain he felt inside. "Hey... don't be so down on yourself. We both knew what the risk was when we headed out... not like we had much of a choice, y'know. Besides, I came here for a reason, not just to reminisce about old times."

"What do you mean?" Greywulf asked, meeting her renewed cheer with a slight smile of his own.

"Look. I know how you're feeling, okay? Empty, emotionless, dead, blah blah blah… and not just because I listened in on you and Jaheira talking earlier." Imoen said with a smirk, hopping off the table to kneel down beside his hunched form. "You're not the only one lacking a certain essential bit of spirit to survive, you know."

"I know-" Greywulf began with a sigh, but Imoen cut him off, shaking one finger. "Oh no. If you know, then what's this whole business of 'I'm alone,' huh? Ya think I don't feel everything you described? But d'ya see me moping around, starting needless arguments? Nope, I'm still the same lovable Imoen, ready to pull a prank on the unsuspecting paladin!"

Imoen struck an over exaggerated heroic pose, eliciting a short laugh from Greywulf, before she grinned and jumped onto one hand, doing an awkward but impressive handstand. "And do you know why I'm still the way I am?"

"No clue." Greywulf said, reaching out as though to poke Imoen, the girl yelping and falling to the ground in an attempt to avoid the incoming jab. As she tumbled head over heels, she came up sitting and rubbing her head before shaking her hair and standing up. "I'm this way because, drum roll please…. It's my job! Would you believe this is the second time I've had to explain this to someone since yesterday?"

"Huh?" Greywulf asked, confused.

"Sheesh, do I hafta explain everything?" Imoen rolled her eyes with a grin. "This is my job, being the cheery and lovable Imoen… although I'm thinking of adding strikingly beautiful to the list too. Anyways, this is what people expect of me, you know? Here, I'll give you an example. Turn around real quick."

Greywulf followed her directions, only to have a small book fly into the back of his head, flopping to the ground. He turned with a disbelieving laugh and asked, "What was that about?"

Imoen merely shrugged with a chuckle and said, "First, for messing up my perfect handstand earlier, and second, because I can! It's what you expect of Imoen, right? Idiotic little gestures like flying books and morning wake-up calls consisting of ice-cold water."

"I... I guess so." he acquiesced, still trying to keep the confusion from his features.

"So that's what I do, right? It's my job, and soulless or not dammit, I'm going to be chipper and cheery until I either die or get my soul back from Bodhi!" Imoen said, pounding one fist into her other palm. "Once that's been done, I can be angry, mean, and crotchety. Now, you have to do your job as well, which happens to be the leader who keeps us all alive despite overwhelming odds. Understand me?"

Her words were overly exaggerated, far too silly, and extremely confusing. They made sense only because she was his sister and he'd been around her long enough to decipher the rants of hidden wisdom she'd give every now and then, and this was no exception. Yet... he believed her. It was his job. Being the leader, playing the hero... it was not a role he relished, nor one he sought. And yet, it was still his. And unless he wanted them all to die, he had a responsibility to it. Things were still... wrong. Not just the taint- more than that was troubling him. More than the loss of his soul- but there wasn't the time. They needed every second to survive the onslaught he'd pushed them into, and he'd wasted more than enough of his own energy and that of the group.

Greywulf exhaled deeply, then chuckled and began nodding slowly, "I think you got your point across. Come on. We've got some planning to get done."

She grinned, helping pull him to his feet. He glanced down at the book she had thrown at him, kneeling to pick it up off the floor and at least place it on the wooden table- the name caught his eye, and he stopped, frowning as he scooped up the book. He began flipping through the pages, scanning each one as his memory caught on things he'd learned once but forgotten for so long...

"What's up?" Imoen said curiously as Greywulf's hands began shaking as he paused on a particular page, his eyes widening.

"This… gods, no." Greywulf whispered in disbelief. "I think… I know what happened to you. What affected you with such intense fear."

"You do? What is it then?" Imoen asked, looking at his worried expression as she took on her own sense of dread. "Something tells me I'm not going to like this..."

"It's something bad, believe me." Greywulf said gravely, slamming the book shut as he started for the door, heading to find the others and warn them.

"Exactly how bad are we talking here?" Imoen asked cautiously, jogging slightly to catch up with him.

"Bad enough that if I'm right, it won't make one bit of difference if the orc horde is repelled." He tossed behind him. "The Keep is doomed, and so are we if something isn't done."

X X X X X X

Yachmoto nodded once to Arkanis as the thief left his fellow assassin behind and entered the long corridor leading to Aran Linvail's private quarters. The walk was long and hazardous, unless of course one had been there before. He took great care to avoid all the traps located in the hall, slipping past the trip wires and pressure blocks, activating the disable switches when necessary. Linvail could be considered paranoid for such a strong defense, but it was a necessity when the enemy was gaining on so many fronts.

Despite the constant victories he brought back, Bodhi's forces were still advancing. When he had come back, the tactician had told him the bad news: the Graveyard District was once again solidly in enemy hands, as were the Slums. The Temple District had the Radiant Heart and the clerics of Lathander and Helm to defend it, and Waukeen's Promenade was under enough watch by the city guard that neither guild could mount a good offensive there, but their forces in the Government District were growing slim, and required reinforcing soon. The Bridge District was under constant pressure and almost at the breaking point. If it fell, the last major defense before the Docks themselves would be gone, and the vampires could fortify the only route to the upper portion of Athkatla. The Docks were really the only secure part of the city, but unless this war ended soon, the Shadow Thieves would lose it all.

Still, what he had recovered in the field just might be enough to provide the information for their last counteroffensive. Arkanis nodded to the two door guards, then took a deep breath as he entered Aran Linvail's quarters. Despite the air of nobility the man exuded, he was still ruthless when necessary and his whims could be fickle at times. He had learned that treading with caution was the only way to deal with his superior- if one valued their life, that is. The Shadow Thief master was standing by a small mahogany counter, pouring himself a glass of brandy as the man entered. He did not acknowledge Arkanis' presence immediately, instead he swirled the alcohol in the glass for a moment, then brought it to his lips and swallowed a taste of it slowly, savoring the taste as it burned his throat on the way down. He finally set the drink down, then turned to Arkanis and graced him with a smile, motioning for the thief to sit. He declined, so Linvail shrugged and sat himself, folding his arms before speaking.

"Arkanis… I was told you had something to report to me; something of great interest, I might add." Aran Linvail's voice contained trace amounts of curiosity, but Arkanis did not mistake it for lenience… he had better not disappoint.

"Yes, sir. Tonight, we encountered over four groups of vampires hunting near the Graveyard district, circling the same areas we had cleared before. We suffered minor casualties, but I believe it to be more than mere coincidence."

"I have several people working on discovering the location of Bodhi's new base. Unless there were severe miscalculations on their part, there are no more crypts in the Graveyard District deep enough to house the number of vampires we have been faced with." Linvail pointed out. "I trust you have more than this to tell me?"

"Yes, of course." Arkanis bowed, unfolding the cloth he had put in his belt pouch, handing it to the Shadowmaster. "This was found on one of the vampires I staked. I'm sure you recognize the pattern…"

Aran studied it for a moment, then laughed, shaking his head. "Incredible. The most obvious of places… and we could not see it. Of course, the burial shroud of the Kensai clans could hardly be found elsewhere than their own crypts."

"I had thought they were sealed deep beneath the Graveyard District, as well as warded against undead in order to protect them from grave robbers and the powers of necromancers." Arkanis frowned.

"They were indeed… which is why we discounted them from our search. However, wards can be brought low by a spellcaster of greater power, or if they have been in place without restoration for a length of time… or a combination of both. We all know this Irenicus is powerful enough to perform such a feat if they were weakened sufficiently by time. No wonder their forces have been so skilled as of late. The spirits of the Kensai clans subject to Bodhi's bidding- it is a wonder we have done this well against them."

"Indeed. Shall we prepare a strike force immediately, before they can prepare their defenses?"

"No… we've just completed our job, thanks to you." Linvail smirked. "We will provide reinforcements, but the real strike team being sent in is Greywulf and his companions."

"Are you certain?" Arkanis asked cautiously. "They only number seven… we could send in so many more Shadow Thieves, and if my elite team accompanies me-"

"Do not fear, your chance for final vengeance will come soon enough. I did agree to send you and your team in, but only that. I want Greywulf to take the brunt of the attacks from Bodhi… your role is more supporting than not. If Greywulf fails, you need to be prepared to finish the job. I cannot risk letting Bodhi escape once more. I will send scouts to try and ascertain the validity of our theory. If they prove true, I will send spies to find Greywulf and inform him of this new development. Once he is here, you will meet him in the Graveyard District, but again- let him engage Bodhi first. His life is… expendable."

"Of course. I will let my team know." Arkanis bowed, then left, his palms sweating just slightly. Despite Aran's words, he knew that if it came down to it, his life was expendable as well, and that failure would not be an option in this mission. He only hoped Greywulf and his troop were as good as they had been in the past.

X X X X X X

"I see you have finally decided to join us. I had hoped you would be finished with your research earlier, but your presence will be most appreciated now, I should think. So far, our forces have been prepared for several contingencies, although-" Captain Arat's briefing was cut short as Greywulf waved his hand for silence, he and Imoen stalking into the room together, the sorcerer shaking his head.

"Right now, the orc horde is the least of our problems." Greywulf stated firmly, leaning on his weapon before the surprised group, everyone in the room immediately turning with surprise.

"What are you talking about? They will arrive within the week-" Nalia argued in confusion before Imoen cut her off, rolling her eyes with an impish grin. "Oh, trust me. When Greywulf says it's bad, it's bad. Go ahead, Greywulf. Tell 'em."

"As you all know," Greywulf said with a grimace, sitting at the table with the others, "I was doing some research on the magics used against Imoen a number of hours ago. We all discussed what might have happened, but all we can know for certain is what Imoen told us."

"Aye. And the gate will not be betrayed if the traitor had any more accomplices." Captain Arat acknowledged. "I have put four of my most trusted men to guard it during the battle ahead. In regards to any other unknown treachery that this enemy might have lurking in our ranks, we considered the idea of launching a number of pre-emptive assaults on the orcs. Simple hit-and-runs with three dozen or so riders-"

"No, save your men, and their strength." Greywulf shook his head "You'll need them if you are to hold on long enough."

"Long enough for what?" Nalia asked, standing to her feet, quite confused by now. "What are you talking about?"

Imoen sighed, running one hand through her reddish pink hair. "Y'know, maybe you should start over, Greywulf."

"The point is…" Greywulf said loudly, quieting any peripheral conversation that had broken out, "That I know what caused Imoen's magical fear… and it bodes ill for all of us, if we do not take action. Initially it sounded like a standard Horror spell, but it wasn't. Horror spells cause the victim to experience a dark foreboding, the feeling of an unseen threat, something of nightmares and dreams to overwhelm you. Those with sufficient courage can withstand the feeling, but a nameless fear is more than enough against most people. This was different… focused. It took the things Imoen feared most and made them real… to her, at least."

"What does this mean for us?" Solaufein queried.

"I couldn't find anything in the library about such a spell… because it isn't a spell to begin with. It's an ability- and the only magical force I could find that would cause such a reaction. Dragon Fear."

"Dragon Fear? I've never heard of it…" Captain Arat frowned, before Aerie, quaking, cut in, "I… I have. It's an innate ability all dragons have…"

"Indeed. So… what dragon do we know of who resides in this area, has enough money and power to hire hundreds of orcs and say… trolls, to do his work for him, makes a habit of stealing lands from their rightful owner and could send thousands of orc troops from the direction of the Windspear Hills without batting an eye if they die?" Greywulf said with a hint of sarcasm, though Keldorn's face was stony, devoid of emotion as the sorcerer spoke.

"Firkraag… so you think he is behind these attacks?" Jaheira murmured, gripping her spear tighter. "It would make sense… all the pieces fall into place."

"I have heard of this Firkraag, though I was under the assumption he was a noble lording over the Windspear Hills." Nalia responded. "Rumors of his dark rule have spread, but he has never turned any attention toward our land before."

"He is the ruler of the Windspear Hills, but only through treachery. He is much more than a simple noble- his rule began with the theft of Garren Windspear's rightful land, and he now desires to steal your keep as well. He is a red dragon, ancient and powerful. He cares nothing for the lives of those who serve him, and thus five thousand orcs are meaningless. If you achieve victory here, it will only delay the inevitable. He will raise another army and you will be in the exact same situation." Jaheira spoke, even as the evident chill from her words seeped into the bones of all present.

"What can we do, then?" Nalia asked, her eyes betraying the first sign of fear. "We… we must do something! I still refuse to hand this Keep over without a fight! Not to a dragon, not to the orcs!"

"Nor should you." Greywulf nodded. "I finally have a plan… but it will require much sacrifice. Many of your men will die defending this place… and if my friends and I fail in our task, we all will perish. However, it is the only answer I can see."

"We took that risk when we swore to defend this land." Captain Arat intoned grimly. "We will do our part if it means defeating this menace."

"What do you intend for us then?" Aerie asked, calmed slightly after her initial burst of fear at the revelation of Firkraag's involvement.

"Orcs are cowardly creatures- alone at least. They follow Firkraag out of fear, because he is a power they cannot hope to match. To break the ranks of the orcs attacking the Keep, we must demoralize them, show that they cannot match our power either." Greywulf said. "The only thing that could possibly scare them more than Firkraag…"

"Is the wrath of those who could kill Firkraag." Solaufein finished, seeing Greywulf's purpose. "You mean to go on the offensive. To bring the battle to the tagnik'zur himself."

"It is the only way." Greywulf said evenly. "We prevent any further attacks on the Keep, repel the imminent threat of the orcs…"

Greywulf did not finish, but everyone in the party knew what had been left unsaid. _And avenge the death of Keldorn's family._

The group remained silent for a time, the only sound the crackling of the torches on the walls resounding through the room. Finally, Imoen fidgeted and waved her hands, saying, "Well? Ya heard the master plan, so what's it gonna be? I for one don't hear any better ideas, so it's a go for me. Besides, Greywulf promised me a dragon to fight since I missed the plane-hopping adventure."

"What will you need my men to do?" Arat finally responded, swallowing heavily.

"Defend the Keep as long as you can." Greywulf turned his head to answer. "If you can provide horses for us, it will be a near day's ride to the Windspear Hills, and a day back. Add some small time for rest, battle and preparation… it will be a three day journey, assuming we are victorious."

"The orcs are closing quicker than we had first hoped… you might return in the midst of battle. How will you prove the death of Firkraag to their mob?" Arat questioned.

"We will bring back proof with us." Greywulf took a deep breath, before turning to the rest of his comrades. "This is all we have left. I know the danger is grave, more so than ever before to face a red wyrm. But if your answer is yes, then we must depart now."

"Minsc and Boo welcome another chance to fight the dragon! This will be the essence of epic heroing!" Minsc boomed, his eyes flaring with certainty. "Dead dragons should litter our path wherever we go, and this shall be the first!"

"You know you have my support in this matter." Jaheira said simply, nodding to Greywulf, squeezing his hand briefly, unnoticed by any but them.

"If… if you're sure." Aerie stuttered, still afraid, but unwilling to back down.

"I shall follow wherever you lead." Solaufein folded his arms. "If this be our end, I will meet it without hesitation."

All eyes turned to Keldorn, who sat with his gaze firmly fixed on the stone floor of the Keep beneath him. Memories were flashing through his mind: the face of his wife Maria, so vibrant and joyous at the day of their wedding. The birth of his children. The times he had so wanted to be at home with them to be their father, yet called away by the demands of the Church. The day he left to lead the task force that would ultimately be the undoing of his family. The sight of their dead bodies as he returned home. The mocking tone of Jierdan Firkraag as he freely admitted to the slaughter.

Keldorn's eyes shut tightly, and tears glimmered from beneath his eyelids as he stood in silence. Greywulf's voice broke the silence, slowly but firmly, "Keldorn…"

His head snapped up- a blazing, righteous fervor in his face and a nobility and purpose in his eyes that they had never seen from him before. "In Torm's name, we will see justice done. By all that is good on the face of Fae'run, I swear that his evil will die this day."


	81. Part 3: An Apostasy Challenged

The ground was a blur beneath them- nothing but warped shades of green and brown, blurred alongside the rest of their vision as the horses they rode galloped over the plains towards the Windspear Hills. Their dread mission awaited them there, dwelling amidst the ruins of an old castle, long since crumbled from any sense of dignity; now there was naught but darkness and evil, like a poison twisting and strangling the land with its hold. Captain Arat had lent them his fastest steeds, and after Greywulf had devised a number of magical defenses they could use for the Keep, they had departed. The proverbial elephant in the room, of course, was Keldorn and how all of this would- had - affected him. None had tried to speak with him since they had set out and he had not made an attempt to change that. The paladin was silent as he rode, the reins of his horse clutched tightly in his gauntleted hands. Aerie turned her head, glancing back at the man as she rode. He was a blur, but her keen eyes could barely make out his face. It was a solid wall of grim, determined force... no sign of hesitation or doubt, but strength of purpose she wished she felt as well.

Aerie whispered a prayer of her own to Baervan, for both Keldorn and herself. And Greywulf too... whatever had happened, he was no longer as hostile or unreasonable as he had been in the past few days. He was different now... but Aerie was still worried for him. At least he and Keldorn had set aside their disagreements- any hostility that remained between the wizard and the paladin was set aside, their common purpose uniting them in spirit once more.

Solaufein held onto his horse tighter, perhaps, than the beast he sat upon would have cared for. The drow was quite unused to the art of riding these steeds, though he had picked up on it quickly. Still, he attempted to avoid sucking in air with reservation each time the hooves thudded below him, sending up small pieces of grass and dirt as the horse galloped. He took his mind off the uneasy ride and pushed it to something lighter, easier... the upcoming battle. He considered the absurdity of that and nearly barked a laugh of his own, his long white hair flying behind him in the wind. He had faced wyrms before... rather, one at least. A black dragon that had been enslaved by the city of the Illithid- it had been set loose against Ust Natha for the twisted pleasure of the mind flayers while they extended their own city and territory further, pushing against Ust Natha. They would never have been able to position their Elder Brain so close to the drow city had it not been for the raging destruction and chaos that the black dragon had caused.

It was only after a day of intense fighting that they had managed to drive it to the point of death- only for Matron Mother Ardulace to desist in striking the final blow- rather, she had ordered it to be taken prisoner, for training in the service of the drow. He had considered the decision dangerous at best, insane at worst, but he had been in no place to question the woman. Still, there had been no trouble with the beast since its capture; he'd seen it briefly, right after the mage and the vampire- Irenicus, and Bodhi, that was it- had arrived. It had disappeared again soon after, so he could not be sure what Matron Mother Ardulace's plans had been for it. Not that it mattered now. The drow woman was dead, and he had a new place... defending those who defended him. His new allies. And if that meant facing another wyrm- this Firkraag would see why the drow feared neither dragon nor any other creature on Faerun. He smiled darkly, his red eyes flashing as he snapped the reins of his horse, sending it onward.

Greywulf squinted into the wind, the steady thumping of the horse's footfalls pulsing in his ears as they rode onward. Not that he heard it, really. His attention was focused inwardly, preparing himself for so much- the battle with Firkraag, and the battle for his sanity, should he survive the first. Just because he knew what Imoen and the others had said was true, it did not make his own grasp on sanity any easier. It had been a difficult decision for him to come to, but Imoen had been right all along. He was their leader. It was his job, and no matter how he felt inside, how much he felt like giving up, he could not. And so he had chosen the road they were on, heading to face a mythical beast when they had so much to lose. Suldenesselar, his and Imoen's souls, Nalia and her people… the list went ever on.

He glanced back at the riders following close beside him, assuring himself of their presence. They had been riding for nearly five hours now- the horses would require rest soon, if not themselves. Solaufein had adapted quickly to the new experience... he smiled wryly as the drow snapped his reins and sped his gait. He took a quick glance at their surroundings, gauged the amount of time they still had in his mind, then released one hand and raised the quarterstaff strapped to the side of the horse. Holding it high, he slowly pulled the reins, slowing the horse to a trot, then a leisurely walk, finally stopping. Greywulf balanced as the horse stepped backwards, then forwards, finally standing steady and still. The others had followed suit after seeing his signal- within moments they were gathered together, dismounted and sitting with their horses grazing in a field a few dozen yards away.

Rest and food was the order of their pit stop, the adventurers following the lead of their mounts. Greywulf sat with a sigh, running one hand through his hair and smoothing it before opening his pack to dig out some wayfarer bread that Arat and his men had given them for the trip. He bit into it, measuring the quality of the bread with the other food he had used as rations during his time adventuring. In that respect, it wasn't half bad. Imoen sank down beside him, craning her head upwards as her neck popped, the girl sighing in contentment. She turned her head toward Greywulf, then cleared her throat with mock impatience.

He turned to her, arching one eyebrow, then shook his head in acquiescence and broke a piece of the bread off, tossing it to her as she eyed the food. It had been his experience that no matter how much food Imoen might have in her pack while they traveled, if she didn't feel like opening her pack and taking it out, she would inevitably make her way over to his. He had only protested the first few times, but soon learned that her thieving skills were much sharper than his eyes, and he might as well share willingly. Surprisingly, she didn't immediately scarf the meal down as she usually did- instead, the girl stood and paced over to Solaufein's side, the drow seated some distance, albeit a shorter one that it had been upon first joining their company, from the others. She sat beside him, offering him half of the bread she had taken from Greywulf's pack. He watched as the drow accepted it slowly, nodding as Imoen said something he could not hear- the drow reared his head back and laughed once, a hearty shout from the usually reserved warrior.

Greywulf considered them for a moment, before Imoen pushed herself back up, bending down once and giving the drow a surprise hug, Solaufein quite unsure of how to return it, before finally giving her a pat on the back as she released him, thumbing once at Jaheira before waving a goodbye to the drow. She was certainly doing a fine job of making him feel more welcome than he might've otherwise... although he doubted Solaufein had been prepared for anyone like Imoen when he'd agreed to venture to the surface with strangers and travel in their company. He turned to note Minsc sitting beside Aerie off to the side- the ranger pointed at Imoen and Solaufein, saying something that was also inaudible. Aerie's face said it all- she shook her head in disbelief, slapping Minsc's arm gently as the ranger shrugged, turning to watch the hamster scamper in the grass before him. Greywulf thought back to his talk with Minsc in the darkness of Firkraag's cave- he made a mental note to keep an eye on Imoen and Solaufein from that point onward.

Still, aside from Imoen's quick jaunts between the different members of their company, there was really no conversation was forthcoming from the group, a feeling of tension palpable between each and every one of them. It was not antagonistic or a feeling of strife, but more so in preparation for the upcoming battle. True, they faced death on a daily basis, but it usually came from an unknown source, leaving little or no time to dwell on their opponent or what could take place. To face an opponent of such power and mystique- it was unnerving to even the most experienced adventurer. They were not immune either; especially for Aerie, given her people's history with the dragons of evil design.

Jaheira stood with the horses in the field, most of them neighing softly. She was by the one she had been riding, stroking it gently and murmuring words that were unintelligible to Imoen as she approached. They might've been elvish, or perhaps a druidic chant- regardless of their origin, they seemed to have the calming effect desired, and not just on the horse. Jaheira had a look of rare peace, a smile of contentment across her smooth lips as she held out her hand to the horse's mouth, the steed munching the proffered grass in her hand.

"Jaheira?" Imoen began, wondering if she should try to speak with Jaheira later- she had such a look of peace on her face, something that was far too rare for her.

"Yes, child?" Jaheira glanced over at Imoen, before returning to stroke the horse's hair, no sign of irritation or impatience at Imoen's interruption. "What is it?"

Imoen watched her movements for a second or two, then asked quietly, "I was just thinking of what happened back at the Keep... how it was almost betrayed from the inside. It got me thinking... what happened to Yoshimo?"

Jaheira continued stroking the horse, not turning to look at Imoen, but her voice became very brisk, business-like as usual. "Why do you ask now? Surely his memory had crossed your mind before now."

"Well," Imoen shrugged, "It's not like we've had all that much time to talk since we got out of Spellhold, you and me. Just trying to make small talk, I guess. Of course, we've never been the most talkative of friends, heh…"

Jaheira smiled despite herself, nodding in agreement. "Not really. Perhaps if you would learn to act your age..."

Imoen barked a laugh, walking to her own horse and beginning to stroke it as well, the horse sighing softly in approval. "Now c'mon, do ya ever really expect that to happen? Have you tried acting my age for a change?"

"Touché." Jaheira acquiesced, then sighed as she continued her gentle motions. "One can always keep hoping… but you asked a question, did you not? Yoshimo, the traitor in our midst."

"Yeah… I was only with him for a day or so, max… but he didn't seem so bad, really." Imoen offered. "He even came through in the end- if he hadn't broken those wands, our plan would've gone a lot worse."

"True. He managed to redeem himself in a small way- though in accordance with his other sins, I find the scales yet remain unbalanced." Jaheira exhaled. "Perhaps he might've seemed kind... heroic, at times. But then again… it was his job, was it not? To find us, gain our trust, to keep Greywulf alive even. All for the purpose of turning us over to Irenicus in the end."

Imoen remained silent, letting Jaheira continue her monotonous act, long after the hair was straightened completely. Jaheira shifted, moving her plate armor to one side, adjusting the weight as she took another breath, gazing upward to the pale blue sky.

"You wonder how we missed it, correct?" Jaheira stated with a sigh, letting her green eyes drift back down to meet Imoen, slowly walking away from the horses as Imoen followed. "How he could have gained our trust despite all that we have learned over the years?"

"Umm… yep, that'd be about it. I mean, I understand him fooling the rest of us, but you usually don't trust anyone you don't have to." Imoen pointed out.

Jaheira chuckled humorlessly and then sat down, folding her arms over her knees as she reclined on the meadow grass. "I cannot know for certain, but I think in the end… Yoshimo wanted to be our ally. He wanted to be our friend, even though he knew it could never be. That earnestness was not phony, and so there was nothing to see through. His motives though, were a different story. Had he been acting all along, I might have seen it…"

"Greywulf mentioned that he asked us to go to the Temple of Ilmater, in Waukeen's Promenade." Imoen remarked. "Why do you think he asked us that?"

Jaheira shrugged. "He was a follower of Ilmater; perhaps he wishes us to intercede on his behalf regarding the condition of his soul in eternity…but this is all meaningless anyhow. His treachery came to fruition, and he died for it. I rather doubt we will let Irenicus live long enough to tell us whether he spoke the truth. Whether we go to the Temple or not is Greywulf's decision, but I harbor little sympathy for traitors."

Imoen watched Jaheira grow quiet, her head bowing. It was obvious she had seen far too many deaths and betrayals, especially concerning the events recently with the Harpers, and had no desire to continue talking, at least not to her. Imoen remained silent, letting her breath catch as the six travelers prepared to keep moving.

Jaheira watched Imoen leave- she felt the small glimpse of peace she had garnered wash over her again. Still, it was no use putting it off. Words needed to be had between her and their leader; even more so with their new relationship... whatever that happened to be. She pushed herself up, then strode over to Greywulf who had been watching the horizon in the west, the sun just beginning to dip towards its peaks. Her presence was easily picked up and he gestured for her to sit if she so desired. She did, and for a moment the two of them were silent, merely watching the calming balance of nature about them. She eventually turned to him and said, "I see you are feeling better. At least, I would hope so. You… were not exactly your usual self the last time we spoke."

"No… no, I wasn't." he said, shrugging in acquiescence. "Things overwhelmed me for a time… I said things out of anger and frustration and I let my circumstances dictate my actions. I'm sorry, Jaheira. I owe you an apology."

"'No weakness in honest sorrow', remember? Or must I quote the rest of Alaundo's writings to you?" Jaheira said with more than a hint of mocking in her tone.

He chuckled as she continued in a more sincere tone, "Might I inquire as to just what changed your attitude? Or did you have a revelation of sorts?"

"Imoen, of all people." Greywulf mused. "We talked for a bit… she said some things that made me think, made me realize how foolish I was acting. In her own special Imoen-ish way, of course."

"Of course." Jaheira responded dryly, before leaning in close to whisper in his ear. "And if you ever call me 'woman' in such a manner again, I promise that you'll find our relationship to be quite short-lived."

Greywulf cleared his throat with a mixture of embarrassment and acknowledgment, his face reddening as she returned to her previous position. "Yes...er, let's just try and forget that little incident, shall we?"

"I have an excellent memory." Jaheira remarked before glancing over at Imoen and continuing, "You said that Imoen helped you back to thinking clearly, or rather as clear as your thoughts ever are. Just what manner of wisdom did she relate that pulled you from your depression?"

Greywulf inhaled tightly, taking Jaheira's barbs in stride. She was rather entitled to a period of needling after the trouble he had been. "Well, the long and short of it was that I wasn't alone in my suffering, my friends were there to help me, I should quit whining and lead like I'm supposed to, you know…"

He frowned as he noticed Jaheira's face change to what he would have normally expected to see on Imoen. The druid leaned closer, her face bearing a sugary sweet smile. She spoke, her tone suspiciously kind and overly gentle. "So what you are saying... dear Greywulf... is that the profound wisdom Imoen related to you…"

He winced, realizing just what was to come as her tone abruptly turned to a yell in his ear, her face flashing with irritation and annoyance in an instant. "…was the same _**exact**_ damned thing I said to you not thirty minutes prior?!"

The others glanced over to see the irate druid berating the mage, but paid no heed. All was well and normal in their lives once more.

"Er… yes. I guess." Greywulf coughed sheepishly.

"By Silvanus, you can be such a fool sometimes, Greywulf." Jaheira huffed, folding her arms as she glared at him, shoving him as she looked away from him.

He grinned, knowing that the bristling demeanor was just for show, as he leaned over and stole a quick peck on her cheek, "Yeah, but you love me anyway."

Jaheira moved her hand to caress the mark as she stared at him oddly, as though evaluating his intentions… then gave a hard-won, if very brief smile.

No more time remained for conversation and pleasantries as many miles still laid between them and their opponent and time was short. Once mounted again, they made their way eastward once more, letting traveling along a hill region, overlooking the plains heading toward the Windspear region. As they came to the apex of a particularly large hill, Greywulf's steed abruptly halted, rearing up as Greywulf struggled to remain seated. The others stopped as well when they reached his position; the reason for his halt became clear. A sea of orcs were marching in the plains below, their black armor making them look like a mass of writhing ants swarming over the land. "What is this… they should not be so near." Greywulf muttered, watching the army. "If they are this close already, they will be on the De'Arnise lands within two days. We have less time than we thought."

"Then let us be done with this once and for all!" Keldorn growled, speaking for the first time in many hours. He snapped the reins as he rode for the Windspear Hills once more, bringing his horse to a full gallop. The others followed suit, not questioning, as only Greywulf stayed for one second longer, watching the horde of monsters, before finally leaving with the others, riding hard to catch up.

X X X X X X

Helderen, second in command under Elhan, shouted orders to the elven warriors and archers about him, trying to make his orders heard over the explosions rocking the city of Suldenesselar. He was in one of the few remaining defensive positions in the city, the platform right in front of the royal palace, home of Queen Ellesime. The enemy forces had not penetrated so far into the city as to reach the palace yet, but it was only a matter of time if reinforcements did not come from the forces at the Underdark exit.

As he wiped the sweat and a lock of hair from his vision, he glanced to the side, several elven warriors darting in with the wounded, trying to get them to a healer before they bled to death. Once pristine emerald splint armor, designed such that even a mage could wear it while spell casting, now cut and split, evidence of drow blades ripping through with ease. The attack had come from nowhere, most of the elvish army occupied at the temple near the Underdark exit. A skeleton crew of soldiers remained in Suldenesselar, and they had little fear of an attack, with the powerful magics hiding the ancient city. Only the power of the Rhynn Lanthorn could have revealed them… which was, of course, the reason for the drow strike at the Temple, the Rhynn Lanthorn's resting place.

Nobody had foreseen this tactical maneuver on the drow side. And so when the horde of drow and demons came to the very gates of the city, nobody was prepared. Elves fell by the dozens, falling before the mercilessness of the dark onslaught. Helderen had tried to rally the remaining soldiers into something of a defense, and he had done well for what time and materials he had, but he was no commander, no Elhan. Worse yet, had been the news of who had been leading the assault… the return of the Exile himself. He had not seen the Exile in person as of yet, but he knew that if the Exile wished to reach the palace where Ellesime was protected, he would see him soon enough. A shout broke him out of his thoughts as he saw a guard running for their fortification, an injured elf limping alongside his shoulder.

"To arms!" he shouted, watching nearly a dozen drow warriors charging from behind them, very nearly about to overtake the fleeing elves. "Drive these foul devils back to the tunnels from whence they came! Fire!"

Golden long bows were raised in a flash, their arrows launching with precision and deadly accuracy. The hail of arrows flew past their comrades, striking seven of the drow in the first volley alone. Three of those hit fell immediately, though the other four staggered briefly and kept moving, not even slowing to pull the arrows from their bodies. Helderen narrowed his eyes as he saw that the two survivors would not make it to the blockade before the drow caught up with them. He leapt over the wooden barricade, drew his long sword and charged forward, shouting a challenge to the drow soldiers. He heard the footfalls of several others behind him- he smiled grimly, knowing that his men were with him no matter what.

The sound of bow strings twanging again resounded through the air as arrows whizzed by him, one coming so close to his face that his hair brushed upwards with the wind. The arrows killed two more of the drow, injuring another four. He positioned himself behind the two fleeing elves as they passed him, just before a drow warrior brought his blade down to cleave the helpless elves in twain. His curved sword came up to parry, then riposted across the side, slashing deep into the dark elf's chest. His snarl turned into a gurgle as blood welled from the wound, falling dead. He had no time for rest, as another drow swordsman engaged him, the battle coming to a full tear. Blades danced and flashed, the sound of metal on metal grinded through the air amidst arrows from their supporting archers. As he thrust his sword down, finally ending the life of the drow he had just knocked to the ground, he looked around briefly, the threat over with for the moment.

The cost had been severe. Four of the elves who had followed him into battle to save the lives of the two fleeing had been killed, their bodies lying amidst the drow casualties. One of the archers had been hit by a crossbow bolt, and was lying near death as the healers attempted to save him. He shouted orders, calling the men to recover the bodies and retreat to positions behind the barriers, preparing for the next assault. Even as he spoke, a loud roar echoed through the area, a sound like none they had heard so far.

Helderen looked about nervously, then froze as he heard a sound, quiet at first but growing louder. It was a rhythmic beat, a rush of air steadily progressing as it grew closer… the sound of wings flapping through the air, drawing closer and closer. He barely had time to think before a dark shape swept down before him, knocking him off his feet. He craned his neck up to see what was before him, barely hearing one of his men from behind the palisade shout the order to fire. Another hail of arrows was released, but all he saw was a rush of black fire sweeping above his prone body, engulfing not only the arrows but the ones who fired them. He heard the screams of death, he smelled the charred flesh, and he did not have to look behind him to know that all those guarding the palace were dead. All but him. He rose to his feet, facing the great beast of evil before him, and the fiend who sat upon it.

"Exile…" Helderen snarled, grasping his blade with both hands as he took a step backward.

Jon Irenicus dismounted the terror he rode, then stepped forward, an insuppressible smile on his grotesque face. He glanced back at the mount he had rode in on, and considered letting it finish the job here. It had made such a grand entrance after all. But… this was his revenge, and he would not be robbed of it.

He smirked and let his hands drop, seemingly at ease before the elven warrior before him. Helderen was seething with rage at the fate of his comrades- and yet, he could not bear to charge forward as he had done before, against the hordes of drow. Irenicus laughed at the elf's hesitation. Perhaps he needed some coaxing. He turned to the beast behind him and nodded, watching as it flew away once more, knowing its mission. He stood alone now before Helderen, the elven lieutenant sure of Irenicus' motives.

_He's toying with me._ The thought echoed in Helderen's mind, and as he saw the smirk on the Exile's face, he knew it to be true. He would die here. But… he served Queen Ellesime. All those guarding the palace were dead. All but him. There was no other choice; his duty was clear. He raised his blade in attack position, took a breath and then, finally and at last, charged his opponent. The smirk on the Exile's face turned into a laugh that echoed all throughout the platform before the Palace, soon joined by Helderen's screams.

X X X X X X

Keldorn's hand gripped the hilt of his blade tighter as he led his horse through the trees filling the Windspear Hills, navigating toward the ruined castle as they had before. The group had arrived at the Windspear borders at the end of the night, though their mission and the threat of the orcs gave them no pause to rest, despite the danger they faced. They were not tired or sleepy; there would be time to rest when Firkraag was dead… or they were. No opposition had come to them as of yet, their path had been clear, if ominous. The stars and moon were partially obscured by darkened clouds, making their walk through the rustling trees and hedges of foliage even more difficult.

"It was a night much like this one… the same kind when we found ourselves captured by Irenicus."

Keldorn turned his head to hear Greywulf's murmurings, the wizard walking beside him at the forefront of the troop. He did not respond, but remained silent as the two commanding presences strode through the paths they were destined for, inexorably drawn to the castle of Jierdan Firkraag.

"We had been traveling for so long without casualty… able to fell any giant, beat down any foe… almost drunk with the exultation of defeating Sarevok a scant week before…"

Keldorn's eyes flicked to the side as a flash of movement caught his gaze. He gripped the hilt of the Hallowed Redeemer a bit tighter, loosening as the bird responsible perched itself within view, the branch it rested upon bobbing up and down with the weight it bore.

"Like fools, we challenged our opponents on their terms… rather than taking the fight to them, we let ourselves be maneuvered into a position from which we had no escape plan. We were confident we could win… too confident."

The sound of a possible cloak flapping, or that of a flag unfurling whipped through the air, faint though unmistakable. Keldorn's path drew towards it, letting his other four senses guide him to his enemy's lair. His hearing was still excellent; the remnants of the castle's flag were picked up and blowing with the night breeze, flying like some old relic of times long since dead, happier times.

"Confidence can be a great ally… or a great foe." Greywulf's voice echoed to Keldorn once more, the paladin finally turning and stopping to focus on the mage, though the wizard seemed to be peering into the depths of the castle's foundations itself, searching for the dragon below. "He is confident…arrogant, even. Nobody has opposed him or come close to besting him in many a year. Every armor has its chink, a weak point… that will be his weakness, and we will exploit it."

Keldorn nodded imperceptibly, the purpose behind Greywulf's musings clear. He was glad to take the man's advice, for it served another purpose… taking his mind off the anger he felt. Keldorn's vision was red around the edges, knowing that the time of judgment was at hand. It was, he feared, vengeance he sought, rather than justice. Firkraag's guilt was clear, and he was free to do whatever he deemed necessary to defeat the monster, but the calm he should feel was replaced by righteous indignation… and little was righteous about the rage he felt under his exterior. Keldorn inhaled deeply. No. This was not the way… Firkraag was deserving of death, and it would be a deed of justice that ended the beast's life, not revenge.

He said a quick prayer to Torm, asking for patience and strength, then motioned for them to circle the Keep. They headed straight for the front entrance, knowing the path they had traveled previously would serve them just as well as last time. Jaheira glanced to their right and left as they drew closer, the entrance nearly fifty feet away as they moved. Though no threat was visible or imminent, her feelings told her different. The sixth sense she had developed in so many years as a druid in the forest was screaming at her even now, the unseen bearing in on her as she looked about, trying to find anything to justify her feelings. Her gaze flickered over something in the shadows… something beside the rocks surrounding the entrance to the castle. She narrowed her vision to the darkness, trying to make out the outline of something in the darkness… her spear abruptly rose to defensive position, stopping the others of the group in their tracks. "Stop."

Weapons were raised without a second word, the group ready for the threat, unseen though it was. "Do you see him? Ready yourself." Jaheira's voice was quiet as her gaze remained fixed on something nobody else could spy.

"Dermin! I would speak at you!" she shouted, her words echoing through the wood around them.

For a moment that seemed much longer than it really was, everything was still and silent. Then, movement in the shadows stirred, letting all see as Dermin Courtierdale stepped from his place in the darkness, putting the hood on the sage colored cloak he wore down. A long sword was in one hand, a hostile tightness to his look as he stared them down. His piercing eyes were enough to turn all their gaze, all but Jaheira, who steadfastly locked eyes with him. "As sharp eyed as ever, though I see that your choice in companions has not improved. Is your treachery not enough that you must consort with a killer? I had thought you better than this, my old pupil-"

Jaheira's eyes had been flaming with anger as he had spoke, and she interrupted him with a half-growl, half-shout, "Cease your lies and slanders! I said I would speak AT you, not with you! This matter is finished! I will not acknowledge this again! If you press it I will be forced to deal with you!"

"As you were 'forced' to deal with the Harpers that died in Athkatla?" Dermin said, making no effort to hide his contempt.

"Yes, and you well know it!" Jaheira spat, her imperious and commanding voice losing none of it's potency as she faced her old mentor. "Galvarey was no more a Harper than a treant. His actions betrayed him, and all those that followed him! His actions betrayed YOU, Dermin. The garish Hold, his political agenda; he was merely using the weight of the Harper name to promote himself. Tell me, Dermin; what did he offer you to follow him?"

Dermin laughed in disbelief, a humorless smile forcing itself onto his craggy features. "You don't know what you are saying, Jaheira. Your association with this Greywulf has poisoned your judgment."

Greywulf gritted his teeth as he listened to the exchange, though the source of his discomfort was more than the insults to his character Dermin hurled. He was armed, true… but he faced six of the most experienced adventurers on Faerun, if not the most determined. And yet his face betrayed no fear, no worry. Either Dermin was a fool, a warrior with more power than Greywulf could guess, or…

Greywulf's suspicions were justified as he noticed Jaheira's free hand tucked behind her back, just out of Dermin's sight. The fist was clenched, though two fingers were outstretched, jabbing silently to her left. Greywulf did not move his head but merely glanced to where she pointed, and allowed himself just a hint of a grim smile as he noticed what she gestured to. A brief glimmer over the foliage, slight waves as an invisible figure shuffled to a better vantage point. An ambush then, and who knows how many more were lurking in the shadows. He could only pray that the others had seen her quick signal, as their confrontation played itself out.

"My judgment has been poisoned? Then I am the better for it." Jaheira spat defiantly. "Call me traitor, but I have followed the spirit of the Harpers. You are the traitor, and if the events were known others would see!"

"Ah, but the events are not known." Dermin said with a sneer. "What is accepted is that you have killed your brethren and taken up with a known murderer. There is no evidence existing to the contrary. Who do you think was in charge of the investigation into your claims? Who better to find out the truth behind the stories you sent back to the Harper Council than your old mentor? I was the recipient of every message you sent back to the Council... and they heard nothing but that which I desired them to hear. To them, you are nothing but filth, a dog who has abandoned her station for the lure of tainted power."

Jaheira laughed bitterly as she continued, "Of course. I should have seen it before- despite the lies, deceptions and ambushes you will still be able to claim the moral high ground for your actions. What happened to you, Dermin? I do not know you."

"One grows weary." Dermin shrugged with a lack of care, only contempt. "We would still have done good works, Jaheira... just from a more profitable perspective."

"At the cost of innocents. That is always the way." she mocked him, rolling her eyes in anger.

"Innocent?!" Dermin exclaimed incredulously, pointing with disdain at the sorcerer she stood in front of. "Is that what you call Greywulf? He is a child of Bhaal! Whether his nature is good or bad it will certainly be disruptive!"

"It certainly disrupted you." Jaheira retorted. "The innocents also include Harpers that have died thinking they were fighting for the right cause. Galvarey's cause. Your cause."

"Regrettable losses." Dermin said, one eyebrow raised with a smirk.

"As was yours... though I suspect you have been gone for years." Jaheira countered.

"Ah, your wit is still the most dangerous trait about you, Jaheira." Dermin snorted. "I told you to cultivate it. Little did I know I would be on the receiving end one day."

"Save it, Dermin. I have no more guilt about facing you, or any other sent on this Fool's Crusade. You are the betrayers, not I. I know this in my heart." She growled, tightening the grasp on her spear as she felt the time of words ending.

"Perhaps… you always were my best pupil." he lunged forward without warning, "But nothing more than a waste of time in the end! You will die here!"

At precisely the same moment, the twang of bows releasing their arrows resonated, Greywulf smiling grimly as he saw the two arrows emerging from the foliage beside them. They were well aimed, one for her present location, the other behind her; covering the spot she would've retreated to left her with the only option of moving into Dermin's aggressive blade range, a disadvantage for her spear. Of course, this wasn't counting the intervention of a certain mage.

Greywulf's staff whipped up in a circular motion, snapping both arrows and sending the halves flying to the ground. Jaheira, unconcerned about the side attack was able to meet Dermin's attack and spin it away, riposting with a lunge, though Dermin's reflexes were more than up to the task of dodging. Two more attackers came from the other side, long swords drawn while arrows began to fly from the original ambush location, no longer concerned with finesse. Aerie backed up as she shouted incantations, sending a fireball into the woods immediately, scattering the archers. As soon as one was visible, Imoen outstretched her hands, sending a spear of lightning into the recovering assassin. His body convulsed once, then lay still. Keldorn was focused on the pair of assassins that had emerged, stepping over to parry the first swing as he sidestepped the second one. His blade came up to smash into the side of the hilt, tripping over it and ricocheting up toward the man's chest. He stumbled backwards, avoiding Keldorn's attack, though Greywulf's magic caught him off guard, a fiery ball of molten rock, one of many circling Greywulf, smashed into him. Solaufein lunged forward to the other archer that Aerie had flushed out- his blade cut once, twice, and the three pieces of the man fell to the ground before Solaufein had finished exhaling.

Dermin and Jaheira continued their duel, patience the defining factor. Both knew each other so very well, neither could gain an advantage. Dermin leapt aside from an abrupt attack, landing with a roll as he flung a knife, the blade narrowly missing Jaheira's leg. She snarled an incantation and summoned the power of nature, vines of the earth sprouting about his leg and entangling him as he tried to continue his dodges. She saw her opportunity but Dermin's blade sang quickly, cutting the vine and freeing him as he dodged once more. He was good… he had always been good. Jaheira had never beaten him in hand to hand combat when training with him, she had moved on to another instructor for the majority of combat training in the Harpers. She was given little time for reflection, as Dermin's prowess in battle pushed her back, towards the crowd of combatants behind her. She blocked one spinning blow, ducked under another, and then felt a push off her back. Whirling around in surprise, she saw Dermin had vaulted over her and charged one of her friends, completely passing her defense.

Greywulf had just unleashed a burning hands spell to slay the assassin he faced and never saw Dermin coming. Jaheira's warning caught him, but too late. Dermin had already reached the wizard, and spinning him around with a head lock, he took hold of a stone in his robes, teleporting the two of them away from the others. Jaheira froze momentarily, looking for them, but they were gone, nowhere to be seen. Minsc was stalwartly protecting Aerie as she pummeled their remaining foes with her magic, Imoen doing the same behind Keldorn and Solaufein. Within seconds, the last of their opponents were dead, but Dermin and Greywulf were both gone. She cursed vehemently as they split up, running through the forest to locate the pair before Greywulf was killed. Against Dermin, one on one, she couldn't be certain who would prove the victor. Dermin was skilled in all forms of combat and unless his skill had decreased over the years, he would be more than capable of dealing with the surprised mage.

Even as they searched, Greywulf stumbled away from Dermin's hold, barely out of the way before Dermin's knife came across, slashing where his neck should have been. Spinning as he leapt backwards, he shouted a string of incantations, sending a lightning bolt sizzling through the air at Dermin. The man, surprisingly enough, ran straight at him, through the path of the lightning bolt and took the hit across the chest seemingly unharmed, his boots crackling as the electricity seemed to dissipate there. Before Greywulf could react, Dermin's hand flew up, this time throwing a dusty blue powder into his face, Greywulf coughing as he stumbled backwards again. He knew the attack was coming and tried to bring about a counter spell, but the powder was more than just a distraction. His voice would not produce the sounds to chant or form words and as he saw Dermin approach, a grin of victory on the Harper's face, he knew that any advantage he might have possessed was long gone.


	82. Part 3: Unforgiven

_Author's Note: Yay! 300th review! I never imagined I'd get such a good response to this story when I first posted... my thanks to everyone who's been reading, especially those who have stuck with me when I first started! On that note... I wish I could post a happier chapter. Too bad. Enjoy!_

"Captain! Captain!" The voice of the guard echoed through the war room, Arat's head snapping up as he heard his name called so urgently. A young soldier was running towards him in the war room, breathless as he came. The leader of the militia at De'Arnise Keep, Arat grimaced at the sheer lack of discipline from his men. Lord De'Arnise would not have tolerated such displays of disregard for protocol and etiquette. Not that he should be surprised, nor was he angry at the young man- every soldier there had proven their valor a dozen times over in the attacks by the orcs prior to this. Still- he calmed himself, letting the slight irritation go. They had excuse to be on edge; a army with their destruction at its forefront less than two days away, and their lives dependent on seven men and women being able to kill an ancient red dragon.

"Soldier? Darrien, yes?" Arat only remembered the young man's name because the boy had been one of the first to sign for the new guard after the Keep had been invaded the first time. Excitable, enthusiastic, ready to serve… all of it had reminded Arat a little of himself when he had been younger.

"Outside… in the distance! The first of the magical traps has been set off; the ones that the mercenaries set up!" Darrien exclaimed.

Arat's blood froze at the young man's words. If the traps were going off now- this couldn't be.

He rushed out to the top of the keep overlooking the front gate and plains lying directly in front of the keep, nervous eyes scouring the hills for their foes. At first, there was nothing, only the breeze catching the De'Arnise banner in the air… but with another sound like that of a clap of thunder, he saw a flash of brilliant light and magic igniting over the top of the hills, nearly ten miles away. The hills were tall enough to block the view of what lay below or behind them, but Arat knew without even seeing... the orc horde was coming. "To your posts!" Arat shouted, the men on the gate below him looking up, entranced by the explosions of magic in the distance. "Prepare for battle!"

The men below became a bustle of motion, taking up sword, spear, arrow and bow as they all scrambled to reach their positions, to prepare the defenses of the Keep for possibly the last time. Arat turned to see Darrien had followed him up to the top and could not help but look at him, a touch of fear on the man's face. "Sir?"

"What is it?" Arat answered, instinctively knowing what the young man was going to ask. He'd seen this kind of fear in men's faces time and time again- this would be no different. There was never an easy answer to give, something that didn't sound trite and empty.

"They're coming… aren't they, sir." Darrien said, swallowing. "The adventurers, they said it would be at least another day, and… and they'll be here tonight."

"Yes. And we'll be ready for them." Arat answered, his tone rough by necessity as he grabbed the boy by the shoulders, giving him a slight shake. He could hear the panic threatening to overwhelm the soldier; he couldn't afford to have his men abandoning their posts or deserting on the eve of battle. "Keep your head clear and your mind sharp, son. This will be the fight of our lives... the orcs will come by the dozens, and they will die by the dozens. We will not fail, nor will we give up. Lord De'Arnise protected this Keep for over fifteen years- and by his memory, it shall not fall today. Do you understand me, Darrien?"

Darrien nodded, the best efforts of Arat doing little to inspire courage in the boy. Still, any thoughts of running or desertion were gone; the man sprinted back to his post to prepare for the battle to come. Arat watched him for a moment, assessing his courage and valor, then headed to the command post, the final battle plans yet to be confirmed. Greywulf's traps were more to warn them than anything, though a few dozen orcs might be killed if standing too close to the magical flash bangs when they went off. As much as he hated to admit it, Darrien was right to be worried. There was an excellent chance they would not live to see Greywulf's company return, if they even did. It changed nothing though. He would defend this Keep and Lady Nalia to the death, if it came to it. He glanced down at the weapon hanging at his side, the Flail of Ages. Lord De'Arnise had told him a little of its legendary power, and how it had been the turning point of so many battles. He could only pray it would do the same once again.

X X X X X X

Greywulf fought the sense of panic that threatened to overwhelm him as he tried desperately to move his lips, to force something- anything out of his mouth. An incantation. A cry for help. Even a curse to hurl at Dermin Courtierdale, whose victory was all but assured. No luck- whatever had been in that powder that Dermin had hurled into his face, its effects were potent and damaging. He cursed himself for underestimating the man- his hubris might just cost him his life.

Dermin's gait was much less charged, much more relaxed as he approached, Greywulf trying to back up to put distance between him and the Harper, but the man never let Greywulf get more than a sword length away. "It's interesting... so many people are afraid to fight wizards. To pit their own skill with blade and bow against the magics of those sorcerers and mages and witches."

Dermin swung left, Greywulf's quarterstaff went up to perform a straight block- Dermin smiled thinly as he turned his wrists just slightly, enough so that the flat of his blade hit the staff, then drove it upward, at Greywulf's handhold. Fire ran across his hand- Greywulf released the staff with one hand, watching as blood ran from the deep wound in his hand. He fought past the pain to get a double grip on the staff again, but the blood ran down the wooden shaft, making it slick and hard to hold onto.

"I have a theory as to why so many people are afraid." Dermin added, almost conversationally. Greywulf narrowed his eyes, as the man circled around him- putting himself between the sorcerer and the exit of the woods that Dermin had transported them to. There had been a patch of forest beside Firkraag's castle- that was no doubt where he had brought them. The odds of his friends finding him in the heavy foliage- he grit his teeth as Dermin continued to toy with him.

"You see, people believe that mages are unknowable, unfathomable... that their magics are beyond the ken of lesser men when in reality, they are nothing more than a fighter, a warrior, or a rogue. They simply implement different tools." Dermin sneered, lunging forward with his blade, just missing as Greywulf dodged to the side instead of trying to parry. "Just as you would study the styles of fighting that a warrior uses, or the bowcraft of an archer, I study the spells of a wizard. How they think. What they would do in any situation... including, I might add, yours."

Greywulf feinted an attack forward with his staff, then turned and bolted, trying to lose himself in the treeline and get some distance- he felt Dermin's hand close around his cloak, yanking him to the ground. He craned his head around to see Dermin tsking slightly. "Trying to get enough room to cast a Vocalize spell, yes? It's what I'd do... so predictable. The fastest I've seen any wizard cast a Vocalize through pure hand motions is five seconds. In your weakened condition, I'd say it'll take you six. Do you think I'll ever give you that kind of time before my blade enters your innards?"

Even if he had been able to respond, there was an interruption; a stick snapped nearby, accompanied by the calls of Minsc, booming in the distance. Dermin's eyes narrowed as he pulled Greywulf out of the clearing they had been dueling in, into a heavily covered canopy of underbrush. Dermin strong-armed Greywulf to his feet, holding both arms behind his back as they watched the figures of his companions begin to trickle into the forest. "Right on time... I didn't think it would take long for your companions to dispatch the fools I brought with me."

Dermin looked down into Greywulf's eyes, seeing the confusion- he chuckled, shaking his head as he pushed Greywulf to the ground, drawing a dagger from his belt as he placed one knee on the sorcerer's chest. "The trust that the Council placed in me to resolve this matter has been... dwindling, as of late. Doubts have been raised about my handling of this situation... but every opposing voice shall be quelled when I return with the sad tale of pyrrhic victory... the life of the Bhaalspawn finally taken, but at the cost of every Harper I brought with me. I will have their sympathy and support, enough to finally garner the prestige and power that I have been denied for so long. They will not deny me the position of Herald... even a position on the Council will be within reach. And best of all, thanks to you, I no longer have to share power with that mongrel Galvarey."

"You see, Galvarey did not pay me to join his cause... I trained the boy. Trained him to follow in my footsteps and to be the figurehead, while I... I would be the true leadership behind him." Dermin exhaled, leaning over and putting his dagger to Greywulf's throat. "I think I've explained this matter well enough- I hope all your final questions have been answered, because you'll get no more exposition from me. I'll kill you, then Jaheira, and there will be no evidence of any wrongdoing on my part."

Greywulf felt a flash of rage rise at the offhanded mention of killing the woman he loved- a rush of strength flowed through his body, and for a moment he felt the Slayer's eager tones in his mind, pushing him onward, pleading to be let go. The one hand that Dermin was holding down burst out of the grip Dermin had on it and went to the dagger, clutching Dermin's wrist and holding it back in a grip of steel. Dermin looked down at it with shock, a look of disgust and anger flashing over his face as he tried to pry Greywulf's hand off. "What are you doing?"

Greywulf let a sneer of his own cross his face- he felt the bile and hatred inside grow stronger, slowly overwhelming his defenses- _just a little longer, not enough to let the Slayer loose, but enough to get free-_ He threw his body hard left, managing to roll out of the knee lock that Dermin had placed him in, even as he pushed on the dagger, nudging it to the left. They rolled together for a moment as all of the force Dermin had been exerting on the dagger came to fruition- it slammed down, pinning his other hand to the ground. Dermin fought past the urge to howl in pain, unwilling to risk the chance of Greywulf's friends hearing and coming to his aid- Greywulf came to his feet immediately, mentally calculating how much time he had before Dermin freed himself and covered the distance between the two of them... six seconds, perhaps. They'd find out.

Dermin watched in anger as Greywulf began the motions for a Vocalize spell; he grasped the handle of the dagger, yanking it out as quickly as he could, shearing bone and muscle and flesh as he removed it from his hand. The Harper flung it to the ground as he drew his long sword, vaulting towards Greywulf in an attempt to disrupt the casting procedure... it would be too close. He swung as early as dared- a bit shy. The tip of the sword dug along Greywulf's chest, slicing a cut from his shoulder to hip. Greywulf stumbled backward with pain as the front of his robe began staining red... he looked up from his hunched position, spitting out two words. "Screw you."

Dermin's eyes widened as he realized what was about to occur- he tightened the one handed grip he had on his sword as Greywulf ignited a Spell Sequencer, unleashing three spells, one after another. A barrage of Magic Missiles exploded into the studded leather chestplate Dermin wore, throwing him to the ground. He pushed himself to one elbow as he saw a Cloudkill explode on top of him- he hurled himself out of the range of the noxious vapors, covering his mouth and nose with his bloody and wounded hand as he finally rolled out of the area of effect, his cloak rolled up behind him. Even as he landed, a Melf's Acid Arrow sizzled into existence, embedding itself into his thigh. It pulsed, releasing the first burst of acid- he spat the words to a dispel, dissipating the magical arrow as he hobbled to his feet, trying not to collapse on the bad leg. His face twitched- the pain was obviously great. Greywulf tried not to smile.

"You've caused enough trouble, Dermin. You say that you're not afraid of fighting wizards- if that's so, then let's try fighting on my terms, fool!!" Greywulf shouted through the labored breathing he was forced to make. Even though his words were confident, inwardly Greywulf was still trembling. His chest and hand wounds were throbbing with each second- inside, the Slayer seethed at being so close to freedom yet being pulled back at the last second. Its power would grant victory so easily- **GIVE IN TO YOUR HATRED! **It screamed in his mind- the memory of Jaheira, bloody and dead at his hands was enough to push the urges away, focusing him upon his other opponent.

Dermin sneered, his hand pulling a potion from his robes- he hurled it at Greywulf's feet. The mage caught it with a tendril of magic, deflecting it to the side and hurling it upwards. Dermin turned aside as the vial exploded, showering the area with fire, setting the nearby trees ablaze, as well as sending fiery balls of death at the two combatants. He squinted to see Greywulf continuing forward through the liquid flame, the mage glowing with what could only be a Protection from Fire spell activated. He watched for a moment longer, then turned and retreated. His entire strategy for defeating the powerful wizard had been to defeat him before he could regain his voice, and the tide of battle was now against him- there was nobody to blame but himself. He'd gloated and talked when he could have simply killed the wizard and been done with it. Still- as long as he was still separated from his companions there was hope. There was no way they would find them quickly enough-

"There! He flees!" Minsc's mighty voice echoed through the crackling embers of the burning forest, the imposing ranger's silhouette visible in the trees before him. Aside him was Aerie, Keldorn and Imoen a few yards off in the tree line, though Jaheira was nowhere to be seen.

Dermin was caught in confusion for the briefest of seconds before he realized what had happened. Greywulf had not flung the Potion of Fiery Burning into the air for no reason; he had used the fire as a beacon to attract the aid of his friends.

"Brilliant tactic." he shouted back at Greywulf- Solaufein had suddenly appeared beside Greywulf as well. His memory flashed with the drow manhandling him back at camp, ready to kill him without Jaheira's intervention. He was not keen on letting the drow near again, to say the least.

Greywulf gave an unkind smile, then shouted another incantation, magical energy engulfing his friends, shielding them from the flames as well. Dermin saw the surrounding net, acknowledging that his trap had failed. Retreat was the only survivable option- and was an option he always had with him. His hand grasped the stone he always carried with him for quick exits, activating its magic just before the warriors reached him. The world swirled around him as it always did when he teleported, bringing him several dozen yards away, just outside the treeline, and out of sight of the adventurers. He allowed himself a small sigh of relief, stumbling away, already formulating the best way of gathering support for his cause, knowing that it would be so much more difficult now. The truth was bound to come out eventually as long as they lived, and while Jaheira remained-

His eyes widened as he realized his mistake… too late. Jaheira had not been among the ones to confront him with Greywulf, and she knew of his ability to teleport. The battle cry he had first heard when spotting a young half-elf druid fighting off a horde of gnolls echoed in his ears again, coming directly from behind him. He could not turn quickly enough to see Jaheira's descent from a tree, her face dark and sooty from the ashes and heat of the burning forest around her hiding position. She had been sitting in a high vantage point, just waiting for him to attempt an escape. As soon as he had thought himself safe, her attack came, a leap that took them both to the ground, hard. They both crashed to the ground and rolled with the impact, Jaheira finally kicking him off, the man hitting a tree like a rag doll, bouncing off. Dermin winced as he managed to bring himself to his feet, preparing for battle once more… then realized Jaheira was in no position to fight. She merely stood a few feet away, her eyes narrowed and arms at her sides.

He watched her in confusion for a moment, then turned ashen in realization as his limbs began to numb. Her elven dagger was lodged in his chest, the weapon striking during their ground tumble. He laughed in disbelief as he yanked the weapon from his chest, blood rapidly spreading across the front of his tunic and armor, the man's strength leaving as his body turned cold. He collapsed, staring up at Jaheira, the woman keeping a distance from the dying Harper as he exhaled, trying to form words. She prepared herself for the last shout of spite or anger at her for ending his plans-

"J…Jaheira…" Dermin whispered. "I…I forgive you for what you've done… but… you must make amends… make things right…"

He had no strength left to speak, but merely shook his head as his eyes went glassy, his spirit leaving him. Jaheira's ears were unhearing, her eyes fixed on the dead man before him, barely noticing the presence of the others as they joined her, nobody speaking. It had never dawned on her until now- Dermin was dead, by her hand. She had said it… _I have no more guilt about facing you, or any other sent on this Fool's Crusade. You are the betrayers, not I. I know this in my heart… _but those words seemed empty and trite now. Even though in her head it was so obvious that she was innocent, the last words Dermin had spoken… they haunted her heart. They forced her to doubt the convictions she had thought firm within.

She turned away from the sight of the body to see Greywulf, his face grim but determined, blood still staining his robes as he labored to breathe.

"Jaheira… I-"

"Don't. Just… don't." she cut him off, slipping past his touch and leaving the group, walking away, alone. In the end, Dermin had still achieved victory of a sort, Jaheira's faith in her own righteous course shaken by his death and cunning final words.

He watched her retreating form, then said hoarsely, "We… we will rest here, tonight. To face Firkraag will require full rest and preparation- we will face him come the morn. Ready yourselves, and get some sleep."

X X X X X X

"Listen… listen to my voice, and come…"

The soft, melodic voice wafted through Greywulf's ears as he slept, slowly bringing him to what was something akin to consciousness, but totally different as well.

"Awaken… and see what is being wrought in the darkness…"

His vision came to him, slowly yet unmistakably clear. Wood and leaf surrounded all, a forest of oak and pine and all manner of forestry was abounding, much like the druid grove of Letherel, yet different all at once. He found himself once more in his body, standing upon a branch of unbelievable size, wider than many roads and streets he had traveled upon. The branch led into a maze of winding paths and tangled vines and wood; unnatural though it seemed, there was a sense of peace and tranquility that abounded. Except… something was not right. A dark presence, a foulness disturbed the aura, ruining what might have been a wonderful experience. In the distance, he felt more of the odorous presence… something familiar echoing backwards to him. His soul… Irenicus.

"You there!"

Greywulf looked up, seeing an elven lady, ethereal and pale in the dim light slipping through the branches above. "You… you wander about, seeking what is lost to you. You are incomplete, though the one who has stolen from you roams free, using the power of your divinity without any regard for life…"

The wizard tried to speak, to communicate with the apparition before him, but found himself unable to form words, nor do anything else besides stand where he was. She continued, "Look! Look at the destruction he is causing with your soul!"

The world blurred again, flashing with brilliant light. The sight before him was a bloody red though. Elves were fleeing, both soldiers and civilians, running through the branches of the trees, trying to find some shelter or escape. None was to be found, as Jon Irenicus strode behind them, hands outstretched as they shimmered and flashed with magical energies. Lightning, fire, ice, acid, powers of elemental, physical and necromantic magic all issued forth as he smote every fleeing elf, leaving none alive in his path. The expression on his face was a stark contrast to the first time he had seen Irenicus. The mage had been emotionless back in the dungeon in Waukeen's Promenade, calculating and unfeeling. His visage now was full of energy and passion, anger and hatred oozing out of him, a palpable wash of fury burning the air about him. He pointed a finger at one surviving elf who was attempting to crawl away, but fell lifeless as a Finger of Death spell stole his life force completely. Seemingly satisfied with the destruction, Irenicus turned and kept moving, into the mists of the vision until it faded away, leaving naught but the elven woman before him.

"This is what he will do, and continue to do, if he is not stopped. The hatred of Irenicus drives him ever onward, using your divinity to further his own goals. Stop him soon… or your life, and the lives of those you love will perish."

Greywulf tried to speak; to ask who she was, how she could help him, but she faded as quickly as Irenicus had, and soon the forest around him was gone too, leaving nothing but an icy blackness he found himself contained within. A form manifested itself in his sight, and, finding himself able to move again, he backed up defensively, instinctively knowing what was coming. The Slayer stepped out into his sight again, the foul avatar's slavering grin wide as it looked upon its host.

**"THE WIZARD SEEMS TO BE MAKING GOOD USE OF OUR POWER… POWER THAT YOU SQUANDERED WHILE WE STILL POSSESSED IT."**

"I don't need a lecture from you, beast." Greywulf snarled, in no mood to deal with the Slayer's jibes and taunts.

**"PERHAPS, BUT WHILE WE STILL SHARE THIS BODY… YOU WILL SUFFER ME, AS I MUST SUFFER YOUR INFERNAL ATTACHMENTS TO THOSE YOU CALL… FRIENDS." **The disdain in the Slayer's guttural tone was all too evident, though Greywulf kept his rage under control, knowing that the Slayer would merely feed off it.

"Irenicus will meet his end soon enough, that I swear." Greywulf said, turning away from the Slayer. "And I don't need your help to deal with him… or Firkraag, if you were hoping."

**"HMPH." **The Slayer grunted, as though evaluating the veracity of Greywulf's statements. **"YOU HAVE CONFIDENCE, BUT YOU HAVE YET TO SEE THE TRUTH… I AM INSIDE YOU; I HEAR YOUR INNERMOST THOUGHTS AND FEELINGS. I KNOW WHAT WILL DRIVE YOU TO RELEASE ME… YOU DID ONCE ALREADY."**

"A necessary evil… not one I'll be repeating soon." Greywulf shot back, though he knew the Slayer did not have to lie to rattle him this time. "I'll not let you take control again. Ever."

**"SPOUT WHATEVER MANTRAS AND REASSURANCES YOU MUST, BUT YOU KNOW I SPEAK TRUTH. YOU HAVE TASTED THE POWER OF BHAAL… IT WILL DRAW YOU BACK IN, AS A SIREN SINGS TO ITS PREY. ONE DOES NOT FORGET THE TASTE OF SUCH POWER SO EASILY. YOU HUNGER FOR IT EVEN NOW."**

"I refuse to continue sparring with you, creature." Greywulf retorted, shaken by the creature's verbal assault. "Begone."

The Slayer shifted, the chitnous armor scales of the Slayer shifting as it turned and stalked back into the darkness, apparently unwilling to fight Greywulf's will when it was clear he would still lose. Greywulf exhaled in relief as the dark taint left his sight, the world darkening around him as he neared the waking realm once more, but before he awoke, one final statement wafted to him, the same one he had heard so often before, **"YOU WILL LEARN…"**

Greywulf bolted upward, his face shining with sweat from the dreams and visions he had endured. He breathed a sigh of relief that he was awake once more, wiping the sweat from his face and pushing his hair back as well. It was bad enough having the demon inside him pull at him in battle, constantly trying to seduce him into releasing the taint within, but actually seeing and conversing with the Slayer was an experience he truly loathed and feared. Loathed for the murderous nature, the evil that lay inside his own body, just waiting to be released at the faltering of his will. Feared for the knowledge that the Slayer was indeed inside, and knew his weakness… knew what made him tick, and what could bring him to his breaking point. Still, events were coming to a tear, and he had no doubt that Irenicus and he would be forced into battle soon. If he could hold on just until he reclaimed his soul, took control of the taint within once more…

The sound of a groan, a cry of fear came from a restless figure lying a dozen feet away, across the campfire from him. The others were still asleep, but the noises and movements of Imoen's body were clear enough. He allowed himself the smallest of smiles as he quietly picked himself up and stalked over to her. This group had so many nightmares and disturbances to their sleep patterns, it was hard to believe they got any rest at all. Himself, Jaheira, now Imoen… couldn't they get a nightmare free, vision free eight hours for once?

He sighed as he knelt next to the tossing Imoen. Nobody ever said being a Bhaalspawn was an easy life. Greywulf shook her gently, Imoen's eyes snapping open. She blinked once as she realized who she was looking at, managing a smile of confusion. "Greywulf? What's going on?"

"I could ask you the same, Imoen." Greywulf whispered, coaxing her to sit up. "You looked like you were having a nightmare- I just wanted to make sure you were okay."

She shook her head, running one hand through her hair as she exhaled deeply. "No... not a nightmare- well, not like the usual ones with Bodhi and Irenicus. This was... different, I guess."

"Different? How so?" he frowned, glancing at the others' sleeping forms to ensure they weren't waking them up. He turned back to Imoen, the girl shaking her head with a weak smile, almost one of... embarrassment?

"It's... it's kinda weird, that's all." she answered after noticing Greywulf's confusion. "I... I keep having visions- or memories, anyway, of when we were in the illithid city."

"The Illithid city?" Greywulf swallowed, trying not to show the fear that had suddenly entered his body. "Why?"

"Why?" Imoen answered with a roll of the eyes. "Well how am I supposed to know? I just... I keep seeing things- you know when we woke up together in that one room? Where you rescued me- I keep flashing back to that. Like I really know why."

She sighed, shrugging her shoulders as Greywulf remained silent. "It's like... it's like I'm trying to remember something- but I can't. IT just keeps going back to that one time- you woke up before me. Was there something that happened in there while I was out?"

The sorcerer did not speak- Imoen finally leaned in, shaking him gently. "Umm... Greywulf? You with me? You didn't fall asleep, didja..."

"No." he replied, his voice quiet and low. He wouldn't be able to hide this from her forever. She had to know, and he had to be the one to tell her. "Imoen... you're not just imagining things. Back in the illithid city... I wasn't the one who freed us. You were."

"I... what?" Imoen frowned in confusion, shaking her head. "No... I remember waking up and you had killed the two illithid who were guarding us. You got one with those funny circlet things and we headed out-"

"That's not what happened." Greywulf cut her off harshly, tightening his fists. "You only remember that... because it's what I told you."

"I don't understand..." she said slowly, trying to wrap her mind around what he was saying. "What happened?"

Greywulf braced himself, steeling his nerve before he lost it. "Imoen... you know I was under a Geas to serve Adalon. Part of the conditions of that Geas were to keep my identity secret from all of you- whether by accident or by intention, I was not allowed to let any of you know it was me. You woke up before I did- but when I woke up, I lost it and accidentally let it slip who I was. You figured it out... and you hated me for it. Hated me for keeping it from you..."

Imoen's eyes widened as she listened to what he said, the sorcerer not daring to stop lest he be unable to continue. "We were ambushed by the two illithid you saw... you killed one before it stunned you, while I captured the second one. You hated me... and the Geas was killing me. I had no choice... so I told the illithid to scramble your thoughts. To take your memories and keep you from knowing what had happened. I had no choice, Imoen..."

"You let that thing get inside my head?" she shook her head in disbelief. "You told it to mess with my memory?!"

"Please Imoen, I never wanted to hurt you-" he began; he reached out to take her hand, but she pulled it back, her jaw set and tight as she looked at him with pain and hurt in her eyes. "You don't get to make that excuse twice. Don't touch me. Just… stay away from me." she whispered, pushing off her feet and walking away from him. He watched her walk into the darkness of the forest and considered following, if only to make sure she was safe- but he couldn't muster the strength. All he could do was walk back to his own bedding and collapse, praying for unconsciousness to take him soon... if only to relieve the pain in his heart.


	83. Part 3: No Victory Without Loss

"Fight on! Defend this Keep to the last!" Arat's shouts echoed over the mighty noise of battle, attempting to rally his embattled men. The battle for the De'Arnise Keep had begun, for better or worse. Orcs flooded the upper wall from the legions of ladders and siege towers they had brought with them. Every chance they got, one of the ladders was knocked from its perch or a siege tower was broken by the two catapults they had positioned at the top of the castle, but their numbers were so numerous it scarcely had an effect. Orcs had long since made the towers and ladders their bastion of reinforcements, and the strength of the brave defenders to mount a counterattack or to dethrone their modes of transport was dwindling.

Another flood of orcs bodies swarmed over the wall, pushing back the humans as the brawl above turned even deadlier. The number of bodies was immense- especially down below at the front gate. Pots of oil and spell traps Greywulf had set before leaving had slain dozens, leaving their bodies at the gate, a new barrier for the invaders to overcome. But they did not stop- they crawled over the piles of their own dead in their haste to taste the flesh of men and to claim the Keep for their Lord and Master. Arat could feel the vibration and hear the sound of the battering rams below, smashing into the front gates. Men they desperately needed to halt the siege of the wall were down below, pressing with their bodies to halt the further advance of the orcs.

Captain Arat swung the Flail of Ages with great effect, yet still not enough. He grunted once as the heads of the flail smashed the ribs of one orc, then whipped around to maul another's face. He felt a blow glance off his back plate, and with a reverse spin, his shield smashed into the attacking monster behind him. A quick swing from the Flail of Ages dispatched him, but there were so many more to come. Another tremor from below- if the orcs broke through the front gate as well, it would be all over. Still, their need for reinforcements had not diminished. Those who fought there had been hard pressed the whole time, and it was starting to show. The bodies of dozens of De'Arnise guard lay alongside the orc corpses, hewn and cut down mercilessly. Arat made a grand swing with the Flail to give himself a wide berth, sending his attackers backing away, those who didn't being crushed by the magical heads of the weapon. With a second of breathing room, he immediately began to cut a path towards the immediate source of their grief, the biggest of the siege towers. Orcs continued to climb its mighty ladder and enter the fray from there, a constant source of reinforcement even as his own men tired and dwindled in number.

Two orcs got in his way; one was crushed by fire, the other by acid. Before he could get much more than a dozen feet away, he found himself pushed back again, the volume of creatures coming out too great to overcome. If he had another ten men or so at his side, he might have been able to mount a counteroffensive and bring the portal down, but there were too few defenders, too few and too tired. All that they could do was fight, fight until the bitter end, hoping that Greywulf and his companions could come through. At least Lady Nalia and her guard had not yet been reached, deep in the final inner sanctum, the throne room of the Keep. Her magic would have been useful right now though, he admitted to himself. Lack of magical backup had cost them, at least a dozen orc shamans aiding in the battles. Their fire and shadow spells were not as potent as a standard wizard's might have been, but with no spells of their own to send forth, their curses and fireballs were unrivaled. Some of his strongest fighters had been rendered useless by a well placed curse, weakening their morale and muscles, easy prey for the orc warriors they were fighting.

No way for a true fighter to die, Arat thought bitterly, stripped of his honor and ability in the midst of battle. Speaking of the devil- he heard a loud chanting in foul orcish tongue, a shaman coming through the siege tower, strengthening and hasting the warriors with him. He snarled, pushing through another few battles, vowing to slay the shaman before he turned the battle any further in their favor. Two rather large orcs blocked his path, one tackling him while the other moved to slice him straight up and down. He wrestled with the beast for a moment, ignored the pain as he felt the orc blade slash fire across one side of his waist, then hurled him into the path of the oncoming orc, the first one taking the blow solidly. He leapt forward and swung the Flail of Ages, crushing the second one and opening his path to the shaman.

The orc wizard saw his thunderous approach and hurriedly shouted chants and curses. He could feel his muscles slowing and his grip wavering, his limbs feeling like they were moving through water. The shaman swung his club around, hitting him in the side and bowling him over before he could block. As he tumbled to the ground in pain, he barely turned in time to see the shaman wave his hands, fire forming at his fingers. Arat prepared himself for the end, but his body suddenly regained its speed, flooding him without warning. He immediately lunged at the orc but found him already slumping over, an arrow lodged in his back, the cause of his curse slain.

"Captain!"

A voice called to him, getting his attention over the opponents he faced. Darrien stood with a lowered bow from the arrow he had just fired, bruised and bloodied from the fighting stood by the stair leading down to the main courtyard. "The men down there say the orcs have almost broken through! They need more support or the barricade will-"

He was cut off as an orc leapt at him from nowhere, tackling him in a flurry of arms and blades. Arat's fist clenched as he saw the orc come up with a screech of victory, Darrien's blood covering its face and sword. Arat, fueled by rage and adrenaline, immediately pushed his way over to the briefly triumphant orc and ended his celebration with all three flail heads, crushing the entire upper half of his body. Before anything else could happen, he heard the sound of splintering wood, and a crash of shouts and swords being drawn from the main courtyard. The gates had finally been breached, and any chance of singular victory had just slipped away.

"Back to the courtyard! Into the Keep- defend Lady Nalia! Defend her with your lives!!" Arat thundered to his men, and the few that were still surviving moved at his command, the defenders slowly shrinking before the relentless tide of evil that swarmed over them like a plague.

X X X X X X

Firkraag, the mighty red dragon of old, watched with only half-interest in the portal that showed him the events of the battle for De'Arnise Keep. The orcs had just broken through the main gates, all but assuring him victory in this war. The discovery of his spy had been irritating at worst, but irrelevant in the end. Victory was his, just as he had predicted. This method was a bit… unsophisticated, though. Brute force, while workable and certainly effective, it took no more skill than a barbarian wielding a cudgel.

He sighed once before waving his massive claw, letting the magic expire and the portal disappear. It wasn't about the land, or the castle… he had no particular beef with the De'Arnise people or their leadership. It was the challenge, the thrill and the hunt, matching wits with the best that the humans, pathetic though they were, had to offer. The last time he had enjoyed any sort of challenge had been destroying Windspear himself… actually, no. Greywulf and his companions had offered quite the entertainment, in truth. They had eluded all his best efforts to kill them, killed Tazok, freed Windspear's daughter, and gotten an oath of binding out of him to leave Windspear alone for the rest of his days. The last time someone had caused him so much trouble was the episode with Gorion and the Harpers. He found himself scratching the scar that ran across his belly as he thought about it, remembering just how close he had actually come to death at that time.

He quickly shook the thought away; after all, he was alive, Gorion was dead… he was always better. There was no way he could lose. He was mighty. He was Firkraag. He chuckled, smoke puffing from his nostrils as he pushed aside the boulder guarding his hoard and bed, preparing to rest for a few moments. Being this superior, this clever… it made things far too easy. He was getting downright lazy.

Just as he managed to find a comfortable position, the sound of echoing footsteps reached his dragon ears. He frowned, glancing over at the gigantic stone staircase leading to his lair. He stood on his hind legs, then stalked over to his throne, curling up there to wait for the intruders. Curiosity had peaked in him, and he was wiling to indulge the interlopers with one or two glimpses of his magnificence before unleashing his cleansing fire. Shadows became visible, the torches lining the walkway casting them downward to his sight, the noise growing louder and louder until… "Ha. Hahahahaha…."

Firkraag's booming laugh echoed through his lair as Greywulf, Minsc, Keldorn, Aerie, Imoen, Solaufein and Jaheira all reached the bottom of the stairs, silent and determined. He had not expected to see them in some time… though they had briefly presented themselves at De'Arnise Keep, he would have thought they would be smart enough to flee the battle ensuing. He never anticipated they would trace the carnage back to him… they were more clever than he gave them credit. Just in case, though…

"You return… again?" Firkraag's tone switched from craftiness to utter boredom. "One would think the child of a dead god would have better things to do than pester those who's business is completed. What exactly is it you want?"

"You know why we're here, Firkraag." Greywulf's tone was hard, rocky and edgy as he spoke to the beast before them.

"Do I? Do I really? Enlighten me, Bhaalspawn. Why exactly have you come knocking on my door once again? Surely not to bask in my magnificent presence, I assume."

"You're the one behind the attacks on the De'Arnise Keep. The troll invasion, the orc attacks of late, the attempted sabotage from the inside, all of it is your doing. We're here to stop it at the source." the sorcerer said quietly, no hint of rage or threat, just a statement that was as calm and unpressured in its indifference as it could have been.

"And therein lies the problem with 'heroes'. Always getting involved where they're not wanted, or needed." Firkraag sighed. "None of this really concerns you… any of you. You profited by saving the Keep the first time… money needed to save your friend, who I might add is once more in your company. Why give up all that you've gained, all that you have left to do, Irenicus for example… for a few measly peasants and nobles? It's just a challenge to me… I can assure you there will be no flying dragons burning and laying waste to the countryside, if that's your concern."

"It's not about the land, Firkraag! It never was about the land, or the Keep, or the money!" Keldorn growled, finally stepping forward, his sword already drawn. He was a stark contrast to Greywulf- he was visibly fighting to hold his rage back, his righteous fury within. His voice was filled with mighty tones of valor and holy vengeance- his eyes burned with blazing fire. "This is about the lives you took! Lord De'Arnise! Maria! My son and my daughter! The countless innocents who died in the Keep before, those who die now! Your evil dies here, foul wyrm!!"

Firkraag merely sighed, undisturbed by the anger coming from the paladin. He stood, stretched his wings and neck as he said, "It is… as they say, your funeral. Prepare to face the wrath of the most ancient of Faerun's species. Do you think your divine blood enough to match? I think not."

Firkraag roared as he unleashed a mighty blaze of fire into the midst of the seven warriors, consuming them all in the intense heat. He stopped once he was sure the conflagration was lethal, nothing coming out or into the flames. Firkraag chuckled, shaking his head. He hadn't faced a threat in ages… it had almost been exciting, the prospect of battle. A shame they had been so ill-prepared to face him. Bravado was no defense against a being of his power… just as he turned aside to retreat back to his hoard, they struck. Keldorn and Minsc both leapt out of the fire at full speed with shouts of valor, taking Firkraag completely by surprise. Minsc's twin axes landed on Firkraag's hind leg, drawing acid and frost across the scales, not penetrating far into his hide, but enough to draw the beast's attention. He roared as Keldorn's attack landed, slicing Firkraag's other leg open, the power of the Hallowed Redeemer enough to break Firkraag's scales, just barely.

Greywulf had a grim smile on his face as he and Aerie backed out of the flame, already forming spells and incantations on their hands and lips. Imoen, Jaheira and Solaufein had moved up as well, Imoen constantly on the move, firing her bow while Jaheira and Solaufein descended into the second round of melee warfare. He had been right: Firkraag's overconfidence had given them the opportunity of attack they needed. Casting Protection from Fire, Protection from Fear, and every other protection spell they could manage before heading down had paid off. He knew there was no way they could come down unseen, so they settled for the next best option. Before he could commiserate within himself any more, he heard Aerie's spell ignite beside him, his own following split seconds afterward. A swirl of white light sapped Firkraag's natural magic resistance, and a Greater Malison spell dropped his innate magical armor even further. One of Imoen's arrows struck the middle of Firkraag's wing, sending a small spurt of blood from the missile's resting place. Jaheira had launched herself fully into the battle, stabbing downward with her spear into one of the dragon's haunches as she shouted words of druidic power- thunder echoed and lightning struck from the roof of the cave to hit Firkraag, sending sporadic tingles of lightning dancing across the beast. Firkraag retaliated, sending his long spined tail across the ground, knocking away the first two fighters and sending Jaheira dodging away so that Solaufein faced him alone.

Greywulf hurriedly moved to provide him protection, Firkraag's smoldering wrath turning on the drow now. He swept a claw down to smash the warrior, but he deftly jumped aside, courtesy of the Haste spell provided by Greywulf. He counterattacked quickly, the large drow's sword piercing the claw straight through. Firkraag roared in defiance, shrugged off another attack from Imoen's bow, then leapt back, sweeping his wings in a large gust of wind, blowing everyone back. The only one who had managed to stay up was Solaufein, the unnatural speed granted by Greywulf's Haste allowing him to run into the wind, never moving forward yet avoiding the fate of the others. Firkraag abruptly stopped, allowing him to proceed forward as he spun hard, his spined tail swinging directly into Solaufein's path; his speed combined with the tail attack sent him clear back to the main staircase, the sound of him colliding with the rock stairs was a sickening clatter. Without his armor it would have killed him, and even so he was likely to have more than a few broken bones by the fall. More worrisome was that the dragon now had some breathing space, and had already begun his own incantations.

The adventurers were already back on their feet and advancing, but it was too late. A dispel magic had swept over their bodies already, and Greywulf could feel the careful preparations they had made evaporating in one instant. They had planned for this though, but it remained to be seen how quickly their contingency plans could be executed. He immediately went about casting another Protection from Fire on the group, Aerie handling the needs of Chants and basic protections. That left Imoen with Protection from Fear- her voice was not among those chanting their spells. He whirled to find her, the girl just now getting up from the especially hard knock she had taken from the wing buffet. Greywulf began to shout to her, hoping she could still make it before they were overwhelmed- everybody in the room felt a dark blackness settle over them, as though a thousand dark whispers were permeating their very blood and minds, settling into the fiber of their souls. Everyone disappeared before Greywulf, leaving an empty room of horror, fear creeping through his veins rather than blood.

_It's not real. Not real. _His mind tried to tell him, tried to convince him that the visions before him were false, the fear was fake, but his body would not listen. A dark throaty laugh bellowed out in front of him, and he saw a familiar figure standing there, the dead figure of Gorion lying at his feet. The skull helmet, glowing eyes, bladed armor… there could be no mistake what fiend stood before him, the same vision of death that had started him on this path. He turned to Greywulf, the mage trying to force himself to face Sarevok; Sarevok removed the helmet he wore… and revealed the face of Greywulf. It was his worst fear… succumbing to the taint within and becoming what Sarevok had been, a ruthless killer and monster in human form. No words were interchanged, but its thoughts flooded Greywulf's mind, pummeling his willpower. _**This is who you are! You know it! You're a monster, a killer, a murderer! If Sarevok hadn't killed Gorion you would have! All your fault! No escape! Your destiny!**_

In the background, he heard a scream, bringing just a bit of reality back to his world. He forced himself to drown out the whispers of the doppelganger before him, closed his eyes as he tried to bring himself back to reality, to slow his pounding heart. He heard Dynaheir's name, the anguished cry of Minsc as he relived seeing Dynaheir die, no doubt. Aerie sobbing, babbling words of incoherency, her wings being torn from her once more. Keldorn's voice was a shout, cries of vengeance as he heard the names of his family being taken from him. Jaheira's shouts of rage as Khalid was ripped apart before her eyes. Solaufein was the fortunate one; unconscious as he was he did not have to endure such torture. Then he heard it: Imoen's voice, not fear, but pain. The sound of tearing flesh and crunching bone. _She's in trouble! About to die! Have to snap out of it!_

"Not real!" Greywulf screamed, his eyes still snapped shut as he knelt on the floor, pounding it to assure himself of reality. "Not Real! NOT REAL!!"

He tore his eyes open as he finally managed to shout the words for a Protection from Fear, bringing them all back to reality. The sight before him was horrifying. Imoen's now lifeless body was hanging from Firkraag's jaws, his teeth clenched about her stomach as her legs and upper half dangled from either side of his grinning maw. He shook her once more, blood splattering over his jaws before flinging her over towards Solaufein's unconscious form. Rage thudded in Greywulf's body, anger he had scarce felt since seeing Gorion die. His sister, so close to death… so much blood...

Aerie didn't need an order or to be told what to do; she flew to Imoen's side, her eyes wide and hands trembling as she slid to the horribly injured girl, trying to find somewhere, anywhere to start as the blood drained from the circle of jagged wounds around her body. Firkraag saw Aerie's attempts- he immediately pursued, his massive body closing in quickly. Minsc was not idle; he protected Aerie immediately. The ranger shouted a battle cry as he leapt in front of the dragon, swinging his axes wildly in a desperate attempt to push Firkraag back. He dodged one swing, then another, but Minsc's third attack connected, sparks flying as both axes landed on Firkraag's tail, stopping a swinging blow from it.

The Avariel held both hands over the largest of the wounds on Imoen's body, trying to stop the pulsing flow of blood that was slowly turning Imoen's skin a deathly gray pallor. The pink haired girl was covered in blood- she coughed once, her voice a bare whisper. "Gettin… getting kinda dark, Aerie…" Imoen whispered as Aerie chanted desperately, trying to save her life. "Tell em' all goodbye for me..."

"You're not going to die, child." Jaheira's voice cut in, the druid moving to Imoen's side, her face tight and focused, her lips a thin line of effort as she redoubled Aerie's efforts, trying to turn the inevitable tide of doom that lingered over them as Imoen's life hung in the balance. "You must remain strong. Come back to us, Imoen... Silvanus, bring her back to the light of this earth…"

Even as they tried to work miracles of clerical and druidic magic to save Imoen, the magics Greywulf conjured were of a much more destructive nature. He pointed at Firkraag, sending a Finger of Death spell toward the dragon. Its path was unerring, heading straight for the beast as it roared, fighting Keldorn and Minsc's furious dual assault. The greenish vapor struck Firkraag, but his magic resistance was still too strong, the spell doing only a fraction of its intended damage. It was enough, however, to enrage the beast, the many small wounds it had suffered becoming more than just an annoyance. With a blast of fiery breath, Firkraag knocked both warriors away, and though the fire did not harm them, it was enough to give Firkraag a clear shot at Greywulf. He rumbled forward, his large claw coming in a mighty downswing to smash the wizard. As it hit, Greywulf's Stoneskin activation saved his life, if just barely.

Greywulf stood under the hail of blows coming from the dragon, casting furiously in an attempt to ignite his next spell before his protections disappeared. With one final word of power, Greywulf sent a brownish skull hurtling at the dragon, the Abi-Dalzim's Horrid Wilting impacting and covering Firkraag in its effect. Greywulf was still hit by the last blow, sending him into the back of a stone crevice, almost unconscious from the force of Firkraag's claw. Minsc and Keldorn were trying to see past the brown smoke, but when it cleared, they saw the dragon still up and fighting, if badly wounded. Cracks and gashes of dried blood covered the dragon's body, but his strength was not yet gone.

He was blasting fire into the crevice Greywulf was in, keeping the mage from emerging. Even though the fire did not harm him, Keldorn was quick to see his true motive. The very rock around Greywulf melted under the intense heat, and was slowly covering the mage in its molten embrace. Soon he would be covered and suffocate completely. Just as Keldorn prepared to charge once more, the form of Solaufein blurred into view, leaping at the mighty dragon despite his injuries. He landed on the dragon's back and with a speed crawl pushed himself up onto the creature's neck. He had taken Jaheira's spear while the druid worked on Imoen- he jammed it straight into the back of his neck, piercing deep, but not quite deep enough to kill the dragon. Firkraag roared in anger and pain, trying to throw Solaufein off as he swung from side to side, clawing at him. Still, the tactic had fulfilled its main purpose, Firkraag's attention diverted from completely burying Greywulf. He leapt off and rolled to the side, Keldorn and Minsc taking over from there.

Their renewed attacks were fierce, buoyed by the possibility of victory becoming real. Firkraag's roars could be heard shaking rocks loose from the cavern every time one of them landed a hit. With his attention thus occupied, Solaufein hurriedly began pulling at the rocks that were covering Greywulf, yanking the half-melted stones off with sheer brute strength. His hand was still visible, clutching at air, and soon his upper half was slumped over, unconscious but alive. Solaufein whirled as he heard a cry of rage and a gust of wind, Firkraag's wind buffet throwing the paladin and ranger aside once more. His reptilian eyes fixed on the drow, all trace of haughty pride or dignity gone. Firkraag was fighting out of pure rage and pain now, which could be both a blessing and a curse. He knew Firkraag's wrath was coming as he charged, head down and jaws open but Solaufein could not move… to dodge aside would be to condemn Greywulf to the attack meant for him, but to stay there would be death. The drow lowered his shoulder as he waited for the gaping maw to draw ever closer; he only had one chance, and it would be his death, succeed or fail. It was the only way- from out of nowhere Minsc's large bulk rushed in to collide with Firkraag's head, his strength and speed enough to knock Firkraag off course, his head slamming into the rock beside Greywulf instead.

Minsc angrily mounted Firkraag's neck immediately, slashing both axes downward with grunts of effort, his bald head shining with drops of sweat and blood from the exertion. Each blow landed sent sparks flying as he attempted to cut through the mighty red dragon scale. Firkraag attempted to do the same thing he had done to Solaufein, but the berserker strength of the ranger was greater than even that of the drow, and he would not let go. He kept on slashing, never letting up as Firkraag writhed, trying to knock Minsc free. Finally Firkraag leapt backwards, his neck headed straight for the cavern wall. Minsc saw the threat and dropped free at the last moment, rolling aside to avoid being smashed. Firkraag saw Minsc's escape and immediately pursued, only to be a hit in the face with a blast of heavenly power, a Bolt of Glory summoned from Aerie who was once again in the fight, her diminutive frame standing courageously against one of greatest scourges of her people.

Keldorn slashed at his leg again, but as Firkraag moved to retaliate, Greywulf burst from the stone prison he had been entombed within. Covered in dust, dirt and blood from the gashes of rock he had suffered, Greywulf snarled and shouted the incantations to a Cone of Cold as he dropped to one knee, pushing both hands outward. The intense cold was too much- the red dragon writhed at the touch of such painful elemental power, and with a snarl of hatred, the wings of the mighty beast began flapping, sending him soaring upward, towards the giant crevice he had originally descended from, his last place of retreat. He was quickly out of sight, the only sound echoing downward that of his flapping wings.

The adventurers below did not waste time pursuing or congratulating themselves on their victory- they all knew what was coming. The last portion of the trap they had laid would finally come into play. Within seconds, the sound of several explosions igniting above went off. When the wind of Firkraag's wings had reached near the top, it jostled the numerous Potions of Explosions they had nestled in the chasm walls before descending to his lair. Each blast slammed Firkraag hard, knocking loose dozens of boulders and rocks, a veritable swarm of hailing meteors as it sent Firkraag plummeting to the ground, pelted with stone and boulder.

The group hurried out of the way just as the large body of the dragon slammed into the ground, rocks coming down as well to strike and impale the beast. The hail of pebbles and rock continued for almost a full minute- when it stopped, the smoke and dust finally clearing they got their first view of what it had done to their enemy. Firkraag's body was a grisly sight; black blood covered the dragon, many wounds torn open all over his body. Blood drizzled from its nostrils mixed with the faint puff of smoke, one eye swollen shut, the other barely lit with red malice. It attempted to rise once, then sank back down, gurgling with the blood in its lungs. All was silent for a moment, before it sank in. They had done the unthinkable… faced a red wyrm, a terror of the ancient world, and proven themselves victorious.

Keldorn slowly approached the ancient beast… and with a roar of last minute adrenaline, defiance and anger, Firkraag burst from his resting place and slammed himself down towards Keldorn, intending to smash him with his massive body. It all happened in less than a second- perhaps it was thanks to the Gauntlets of Dexterity that Keldorn wore, or perhaps he had been anticipating the final attack all along. Firkraag was free to collapse upon Keldorn. His massive bulk was more than enough to kill Keldorn, gravity doing all the work here. Keldorn's blade went up, driving straight into the falling breast of his nemesis. The blade cut deep, slicing downward and outward, to the right and finally out of the chest completely as Keldorn launched himself to the side, dodging just barely out of the way of danger… yet slicing open the heart of the beast in the same fell swoop. Firkraag gasped as he felt the last remnants of life bleed out of him, his existence squelched by seven puny mortals.

_Perhaps the blood of a god could be a match for a dragon… _With that final thought, the light behind Firkraag's eyes finally dimmed, and it was over. Jierdan Firkraag had been slain.

"And so my family is avenged." Keldorn whispered, kneeling beside the carcass, his eyes lifted upwards. "May you finally have peace. My beloved Maria..."

A skid of gravel was kicked up as Greywulf came to a halt by Imoen, dashing to her ashen and limp form. The girl's breathing was raspy and labored- her chest barely moved at all. "Imoen… oh no. C'mon Imoen. Stay with us- you're going to be all right. We won. We beat the dragon, just like I promised we'd do." Greywulf held her by the hand, his voice cracking as tears mingled with the dirt on his face. "Please don't leave me..."

"Gonna… gonna have to learn how to dodge one day…" Imoen whispered back faintly with a bloody smile- her smile left as her eyes closed, the girl's head dropping back against the stone floor.

"Imoen... I'm sorry." Greywulf whispered through tears, cradling her head as he wiped a streak of blood from her face, marring her fragile beauty. "I'm so sorry. For everything I did, put you through..."

Jaheira slid to his side, pushing him out of the way firmly as she began to aid Aerie, glaring back at the sorcerer. "You must leave this place now! If you are to save the Keep, then we will have to prove Firkraag's death to the orcs as soon as you can. I do not know how you plan on doing this- and unless you can do more for Imoen than cry over her corpse, than leave and do what you must!"

Her words were harsh and her voice angry- it was concern for Imoen, lying so close to death, unresponsive now to both their attempts at healing. "I..." he could scarcely move- paralyzed with fear as he looked at his sister's body.

"Greywulf..." Imoen's eyes flickered open for a moment as she fixed his gaze. "Get... get on out of here. Go be the h-hero. It... it's what you do..."

That was all she managed before she was gone. Jaheira sucked in air sharply as she leaned over Imoen's face, trying to resuscitate the girl- Greywulf tore himself away from the sight, then looked at the equally transfixed Solaufein and Keldorn. "All right- both of you ride with me. I'll need you to guide us, Solaufein."

"Me?" the drow frowned, shaking his head in confusion. "Where to?"

"The Underdark. The one creature who can still save us all." Greywulf refused to look back as he and the other two sprinted for the exit. He only paused once, at the very base of the stairs. He didn't turn around, he merely said it, his voice echoing back to the two healers. "Please... save her."

His last word was a whisper, tortured and terrified of what he might find upon returning. "Please..."

X X X X X X

Arat attempted to catch his breath as he watched what remained of his men bar the inner door, trying to delay the inevitable for another few minutes. The brief respite from battle was necessary, but it served another purpose, letting the adrenaline wear off and reminding him just how tired he really was. His hand could barely grip the Flail of Ages, the mighty weapon having served well… but not well enough. Barely fifty men still stood with him- all were bloodied and worn, holed up in the last hallway before the throne room where Lady Nalia was located.

Her elite guard was still located with her and so if all of Arat's men fell, she would have a little more protection true- but the situation was still hopeless. The orcs had pushed them back effortlessly once inside the walls of the Keep, driving solidly through every inch of the castle as the night finally turned to sunrise. They paid for it with many orc lives, and every man they had killed cost them at least fifteen or twenty of their lives, but it was still not enough. Their numbers were too great, and Greywulf had not come through. He was either too late or dead… either way it made no difference. So many young lives cut short… so many dead men who had yet to see their twenty-fifth year of life. He briefly thought of Darrien, the young soldier who had saved his life. How he had been cut down so brutally, just one of the hundreds who had fallen here.

The thought gave him focus, determination, and the will to defy those who sought their deaths. It would not be in vain that they died… they would leave this plane in a manner worthy of Lord De'Arnise. He stood once more, proud and tall, and with a raised cry the remaining soldiers all raised their weapons as one and shouted back. All weapons remained trained at the gates, the thudding of battering rams pounding a beat against the final defense. As the wood began to splinter, the bars breaking under the constant pounding, Arat gestured to the men behind him still with arrows. They raised and nocked their bows, drawing them to full extent. For a moment, all was silent. Then, all hell broke loose.

Orcs poured through the doors with a crash of wood and steel, arrows flew and blades met other blades. Screams filled the room as men and orcs fought and died, Arat shouting as the Flail of Ages swung this way and that, guarding the narrow hallway with his very life. Orc after orc fell to the fury of the defenders, crushed, skewered or slashed, the blood of the invaders stained the carpets and walls of the Keep. Even as Arat smashed the skull of another orc, he heard a shout come from Nalia's room, as he glanced there in alarm, seeing a swarm of orcs having slipped by and now engaging the guard there. One guard fell to the horde… then another. He smote another orc in his path, pushing to Nalia's side. He saw another of the elite guard fall. He shouted to Nalia, trying to give her hope as he threw down the last of the orcs in his path to her room. The last of the bodyguard fell as he ran to the room with desperation… to find the last of the orcs dead as well, Nalia pointing at him, a surge of fire burning the body. Nalia's face was terrified, but she had not neglected her magics.

He began to move to her side, to take the place of those who had fallen protecting her when he felt a sharp stab of fire fill his body. The fire turned to an icy chill as he looked down to see the tip of an orc sword protruding out of his chest plate, punctured all the way through from the back. Red dripped from the point of the jagged blade, spilling and running down the silver armor he wore. It abruptly pulled out, tearing flesh and bone as it went, the sound of the orc screeching in triumph ringing in his fading hearing. He could vaguely hear Nalia's cry as a swarm of magic missiles flew over his falling body, thudding into the orc and sending him flying. He saw her face swim into view, tears falling as she looked on him with horror.

"Arat! You can't die!" Nalia shrieked, grabbing him by the shoulders and shaking him. "Get up! GET UP!"

"My lady… I've failed you…" Arat whispered, as his vision finally left him, the Flail of Ages falling from his limp gauntlet.

As the battle raged in the next room, the sound of warfare echoing through the chamber, a flash of lightning and boom of thunder brought all eyes to the hall entrance where Nalia De'Arnise stood, magic at her fingertips as she shouted all the spells she knew with anger and despair. The orcs knew their target and swarmed towards her, but seeing her foes only brought purpose to the wizardess- Nalia welcomed each invader with the same end, death by fire and lightning and energy- each one was decimated as the last remaining guards moved to stand by her, a final bulwark of defense in the last battle of their lives. Her magics could only hold them off for so long...

In the distance, in the great expanse of the sky above the Keep, a speck of movement in the distance became a figure in the morning sunlight. A faint echo became a booming roar of thunderous proportions, echoing through the bloodied and hallowed halls of the Keep. The ember of hope that had been all but dead in the hearts and minds of the De'Arnise people ignited into a flame once more.


	84. Part 3: The Demons Inside

_Author's Note: A tip of the hat to the "Unfinished Business" mod for the word, 'Boolets'. Hehehehe... oh, and I own nothing of BG2. Just in case anyone forgot. _

The wind was a constant thrum, a steady beat over the lands of Nalia De'Arnise. It was a bright morning, one with only the lightest of clouds- the thin, wispy kind that floated high in the atmosphere. In the lands surrounding the De'Arnise Keep, there stood a throng of nearly two thousand orcs, pouring into the Keep through every possible entrance in an attempt to kill and claim the lives of the last few defenders, those including Nalia De'Arnise herself.

Victory was all but assured- their master would be pleased. Grashnuk, one of the orcs still outside, frowned once as a slight gust of wind rushed over the mass of soldiers. He tried to look upwards but was immediately repelled by the glare of the sun- it was not like them to be outside in this bright of a day, without cover of tree or some similar way to hide themselves. If it were not for the order that Lord Firkraag had passed to them, they would never have struck so openly and brazenly against the humans like this. He snarled and snorted, clamoring as he pushed his way further toward the open gates of the Keep, not wanting to be left out when it came time to claim spoils of flesh and meat.

Another breeze of wind, gently prodding him and the others. He swore in his orcish tongue, looking upwards once again- this time there was no glare. At least, not right away. A shape had obscured the sun for a brief moment, passing out of the way just as quickly as it had come, forcing Grashnuk to look back down before he was blinded. What had that been? Something high above them in the skies, up in the faint clouds that still persisted in the morning air, not quite dissipated?

One of the orcs nearby growled something and pointed upward, over on the hills away from the direct sunlight- he raised one hand to hide any glare from his eyes and looked towards where the other orc had pointed. His eyes widened as he saw the shape that was approaching on the wings of the morning- the Master had come! Grashnuk howled in triumph and fear, both pleased that they would be safe from any armies that the humans tried to muster, yet afraid of why Lord Firkraag had come to join them. He had no reason to show himself, particularly in his true form. As much as Grashnuk hoped for protection from their Master, he had seen so many of his kinsmen slain for the slightest things- he was not eager to meet the same end at the claws or fires of the red dragon they served.

He tried to push his way to the outskirts of the orc horde, hoping that he might be unobserved and unnoticed there- perhaps a way of improving his odds of survival. Even as he moved, he took another glance at the still growing shape of the dragon that was descending upon them. He frowned as he moved, slowing in his attempt to escape. The master looked... different. His shape was more fluid, less angled and hard. The scales that were always so blood red like the flames he breathed were of a silvery sheen, a glimmering white that caught and scattered the morning lights. The gears began turning in Grashnuk's head as the shadow began passing over the heads of the orcs- he had begun panicking even before he heard the voice boom out from above, echoing like a thunderclap over the De'Arnise lands.

"Foul creatures of Firkraag's design! Your master's malice has been destroyed! Slain and thrown down, look ye now upon the wyrm you once served!"

The shadow had just reached Grashnuk when the voice from above spoke, and strangely enough, the shadow stayed above them while part of it continued on. He looked straight up, in time to see the familiar color of his master's red scales descending quickly, almost on top of them. Somehow Grashnuk managed to miss the irony that in the end, Firkraag was still going to be the one who killed him- the orc never got a chance to scream as Firkraag's corpse slammed into the ground, crushing all the orcs beneath it.

The dragon still above swept around to circle a second time, descending even further as her talons dug ruts into the ground, scattering and slaying orcs in her path. "I am Adalon the silver, shield dragon! I who have conversed with gods above and mortals below, I who have seen millennia pass and survived the cataclysms of ages long since gone, it is I who now descend upon you! And yet, I do not claim victory over your vanquished master!"

She came crashing downward, a space in the midst of the orcs clearing as they scrambled away from the silver beast; those close by fleeing without care or thought, those far away looking in horror as three figures leapt from her back, drawing steel and sorcery as one. "It was these mortals, these who brought his arrogance low! If they destroyed him so easily, imagine what they will do to your worthless hides!"

Adalon roared as she reared up on her hind legs, wings spreading wide as white gouts of flame and lightning issued from her jaws. Keldorn, Solaufein and Greywulf stepped forward, striking down the orcs that still dared get too near- rather, those who did not flee quickly enough. Adalon looked back down, her reptilian eyes glowing with hatred and power as she looked at the rapidly faltering army of orcs. "Leave! Leave this place and never return, or face the wrath of the dragonslayers!"

Ice and lightning struck the middle of the orcs and immolated all nearby- it was like a signal for the orcs to flee, and flee they did. Their screeches of terror were only exacerbated as Keldorn and Solaufein grimly waded into their ranks, cutting down all those who were too slow. Greywulf stood behind them, fire and lightning jumping from his hands to strike the masses that fled. They swarmed over the De'Arnise plains, back toward the Windspear Hills and away from the danger that was consuming them so quickly. Greywulf swung his quarterstaff down in a cry of triumph, crushing an orc who had tried to strike him; Keldorn spun and hewed three more that had lost their bearings and ran back towards the fighters.

A shout of victory echoed from the far side of the field, over toward the De'Arnise Keep. Solaufein turned to look, stopping his bladework for a moment to smile in triumph- the few remaining defenders of De'Arnise Keep were pushing the invaders from their home, Nalia at the forefront with an orc sword in one hand and a De'Arnise shield in the other. They met in the midst of the plains, pushing effortlessly through those who had dared try and steal their land, the homes of the soldiers who finally saw their efforts rewarded.

Within an hour, every orc who had been clamoring at the gates of De'Arnise Keep had fled, unwilling to meet the same fate as Jierdan Firkraag. Nalia turned to her men, dropping the orc blade and raising the crest of the De'Arnise lands high. Their voices rose in the morning air, and for the first time in what seemed like an eternity, they allowed themselves to feel peace- to feel relief. Victory at long last. Nalia turned to the mighty dragon that stood, stately and imposing behind Greywulf, Keldorn, and Solaufein. The noble wizardess leapt forward and embraced Keldorn, dirt, blood, and tears smeared across her face. "We... we won. I didn't think you would come back in time. So much death... so much-"

"It's over, Lady Nalia." Keldorn offered breathlessly, the adrenaline slowly leaving her as she gathered her wits and control. "Your home is safe."

"Yes... safe. And it is thanks to you and your own." Nalia said gratefully, her eyes flitting back and forth between the three who stood before her. "Only three of you? The others... did they-"

"No." Keldorn cut her off, glancing sideways at Greywulf, who was visibly trying to remain collected. "They are all alive... though one of our number was in grave condition when we left to find Adalon. Imoen, Greywulf's sister- the fight against Firkraag was nothing if not deadly."

"I spit on his corpse!" Nalia growled, doing precisely that as she spat towards the massive bulk of dead dragon that lay in the field beyond. "But... but I forget my manners. Lady Adalon- we are in your debt for this. Please accept out humblest thanks."

"Do not thank me- it was these who purchased my aid." Adalon smiled warmly, a smile crossing her reptilian features. "A new lair in the Windspear Hills in which to raise my young and the entirety of a red wyrm's hoard- a gift most persuasive, I think."

The dragon turned to the three who had accompanied her from the Underdark and spoke. "As promised, I shall return to Firkraag's former lair and bring your companions here. Do any of you wish to accompany me?"

Greywulf stepped forward, about to speak but Keldorn raised a hand, taking Greywulf by the arm. "I shall go. Greywulf, remain here with Solaufein. Please."

"Why the hell should I?" he demanded, keeping his voice low. "Imoen's there and I need to be with her-"

"Why?" Keldorn asked calmly, his voice haggard but still demanding respect. "My abilities as a paladin might be of some use in her healing- you can do nothing but watch. More so than that, you are needed here. The De'Arnise people need you."

"What?" he asked, not understanding- Keldorn met his eyes, shaking his head as his tone lowered so only the two of them could hear. "Look at them, Greywulf. They're tired, worn- they may have won the battle against Firkraag's army, but the battle to rebuild their lives, to return to some sense of normalcy- it will prove twice as hard. Their spirits are all but defeated; the Keep is in ruin and nearly everyone is dead or injured. They need hope. They need someone to rally behind, a symbol. You can provide that for them. The 'Hero of Baldur's Gate', remember?"

He turned from Greywulf and walked to Adalon, the dragon kneeling so Keldorn could find a handhold upon her back. She flapped her wings and was gone in a flash, disappearing into the skies as she flew toward the Windspear Hills. Solaufein and Greywulf watched the dragon's flight, slowly fading into the distance. Nalia walked to Greywulf's side and placed one hand on his arm. "I'm sorry for what has happened to your sister- I'm sure she will be fine."

He didn't answer right away- a swallow passed through his throat along with a shudder before he turned to Nalia, nodding with gratitude. "I can only hope so. I'm only sorry we could not arrive sooner. Still- your kingdom is safe once more. You won't be bothered by Firkraag ever again."

"No… but it came at too great a cost." Nalia said, shaking her head in sorrow as she looked over the remaining soldiers at her side, slowly dispersing back towards the Keep. The braids of her hair were frayed and sticky with dried blood, and her clothes were dirty and tattered. "Captain Arat... he did not survive. So many people died- was it worth it? He was a close friend of the family for so long…"

"I'm sorry- we did what we could." Greywulf spoke, unable to find the words of comfort for Nalia, or for himself. "Make a call to the Order of the Radiant Heart… I'm sure they will aid in the rebuilding."

"Yes… we will do what we must." Nalia said, trying to shake herself of the horrors she had witnessed. "Please... you will stay with us for a time? Your presence would be an inspiration to the men, your heroism..."

Greywulf opened his mouth to answer- he shut it, turning from Nalia with a hint of bitterness in his tone. "We'll stay... but don't honor me. Honor Arat. Honor the men and women who died here. I'm no hero, Nalia. Not even close."

He turned from the confused noble, stalking away from the group and by himself, over toward the rotting corpse of Firkraag. He looked at the dead beast for a time, his ears picking up the sound of the De'Arnise soldiers finally filing back into the castle, beginning the process of healing, both physically and emotionally. He felt the stress and the worry and the fear all rise up to the surface, finally being given an opportunity to release- he dropped to his knees and put his face in his hands, only to feel Solaufein's hand rest on his shoulder. "Not quite the example Keldorn was envisioning, I imagine."

Greywulf pushed himself up, shaking his head. "I told her, I'm not a hero." the drow behind him arched one eyebrow, following Greywulf as the sorcerer tried putting distance between him and the warrior.

"Really? What would you call leading the charge to destroy a red dragon? Conceiving a plan that saved an entire Keep and her ruler?"

Greywulf shivered, refusing to turn and meet Solaufein's red glare. "I messed up, Solaufein. I made a mess of things- it's all broken, and it's my fault. Imoen, Keldorn, Jaheira... I've hurt them all and I don't know how to fix it. That's why I'm no hero. Heroes don't throw the advice of their betters back in their face. Heroes don't mess with the minds of their friends. They don't make the women they love kill their kin-"

Solaufein cut Greywulf off with a growl, a snarl of disbelief. "You're pathetic." Greywulf whirled, frowning as he opened his mouth to answer the drow's untimely words, but Solaufein simply continued. "I watch you and am amazed at how you continue to push onward, how you keep fighting when there's no chance for survival. When you're a dead man walking and you refuse to quit. Your courage in the face of death is unbelievable, unmatched by the fiercest drow of the Underdark- and here, when you've finally squeezed victory from the rocks themselves, you flagellate yourself in loathing and self-pity."

"What do you want me to do?" he demanded, taken aback by this sudden scorn from the drow. "I hurt them. All three-"

"That's not for me to answer." the drow turned on his heel, striding towards the corpse of Firkraag. "I intend to gather the armor of the wyrm- Minsc told me of a dwarf in the city that might make use of this. You have time to consider what has happened- I suggest you do not waste it."

Greywulf watched Solaufein walk away, leaving him alone and with none of his questions answered, none of the ache in his heart fulfilled... and yet, with an unyielding knowledge of what he had to do. He began the slow and long march back to the De'Arnise Keep. He had a few hours before his friends returned... if they all did. No- he refused to let himself think about that possibility. They'd all be back. And when they returned... he exhaled slowly, gathering his strength. He'd need it for what had to be said.

X X X X X X

The door creaked softly, slowly as it was pushed open, letting a thin trace of light sweep over the floor. It was enough to illuminate the resting figure of a pink-haired girl, pale and sleeping in the master bedroom of the Keep, such as it was. It had been cleared right away as soon as they had been given the opportunity. Their efforts were not wasted- Adalon had returned to them within the day, carrying Keldorn, Jaheira, Minsc, Aerie... and Imoen. Defying all odds, counting on the slightest and scantest of hopes, Imoen was alive. For now.

The cloaked figure slipped inside the room, closing the door gently. He unhooded himself, Greywulf's pointed ears quivering just slightly as he shuffled to Imoen's side. He remained standing, simply looking down at the unconscious form of his sister- still in danger, still fighting for her life. Jaheira and Aerie had done all they could there, in Firkraag's lair. They'd exhausted every ounce of strength they possessed, trying to bring her back from the edge of death- and succeeded, to a point. Her skin still had a deathly pallor, and the slightest exertion would tear open the numerous gashes that lined her stomach and sides, but the bleeding was stopped.

Greywulf slowly exhaled, feeling the tightness, the guilt in his heart rise up again, threatening to overwhelm him, looking on her broken and battered body like this- no. Not again... he'd come here for a reason, and it didn't matter if she could hear him or not. It was something he had to do. The sorcerer finally allowed his hands to unclench, then seated himself by her bed, his hand sliding downward to take hold of hers, clasping it to his heart, bending his head down to kiss it once before speaking. "Imoen... I've always been the one who knew what to do. Even when I didn't, I always pretended like I did. Pretended like I had everything under control, like I could take care of it all and juggle the whole world's problems on my shoulders-"

He stopped abruptly, shaking his head. This wasn't how he wanted it to be. This wasn't about him. This was about her- it was about her. He laced her limp hand gently back on the bed, reaching out to brush away a pink strand of hair from her face. "I don't know how to make things better, Imoen. I made a decision that was inexcusable, back in the Underdark. Then I chose to have us fight this battle, and again you've paid for my foolishness. You're hurt, and if you don't make it... if you don't make it, I won't forgive myself. I can't. People always think I'm the strong one who keeps you moving forward... they're wrong. I need you to make it through this, Im. Please... I need you to forgive me. I need you to be here. Please..."

He ran out of words- she still did not move; the only sign she still lived was the faint rise and fall of her chest. He swallowed, nodding in acceptance. He'd said what he needed to say, and it was all he could do. He turned and moved to leave- "Heya- s...stupid bufflehead."

Greywulf whirled, his breath quickening as he saw her eyes open just ever so slightly, a faint smile gracing her pale features. "I... I'm not going anywhere." her voice was little more than a whisper- she closed her eyes again as she drifted away, gone as soon as she had come. "Yer not goin anywhere without me."

X X X X X X

The Dining Hall of De'Arnise Keep was a mixture of solemn quiet and hurried work. It was the center of the first floor- anyone traveling through its halls would have to pass through eventually, but no work was being done for its restoration, or for the entire Keep, really. Everyone was exhausted, worn and ready for a simple night of rest. Sunset had fallen and the last glimmers of light passed through the windows and illuminated the harsh amount of dust and ash that still remained in the air.

Jaheira stumbled past the main table, now broken in two- she used it to brace herself before leaning against the wall, sliding down it with her back until she was seated and in a position where she wouldn't have to move, wouldn't have to talk- and most of all, where her legs wouldn't have to support her for any longer. Her body was ready to collapse from everything she'd done that day- for one of the few times she could remember, she was absolutely at the outer limits of her body's capacity. Except it was at the worst time for her. So much that had to be done- there were people who needed healing, Imoen included- homes needed to be rebuilt, there was no end of work to be done for her- she couldn't afford to sleep. She needed to be working. Needed to keep moving. She tried to push herself back up, but failed and simply collapsed again, bowed over her spread legs as she lay there in the Dining Hall. Maybe just an hour... sure. One hour, then she could start working again. That's all she needed-

"How is she?" Keldorn's patient tone was as quiet and relaxing as he could make it, but to no avail. She managed to look up at him as he stood above her, the paladin not sitting either. All the chairs in the hall had been destroyed by the invaders or used as a barricade. Jaheira was just perverse and stubborn enough to respond with a hint of civility, even if her only desire was to ignore him completely and let herself drift away. Her sigh was a mixture of impatience, annoyance, and fatigue.

"I do not know. I pray she will survive. But I do not know. Aerie and I have done all we can do this day- if she survives till the morn, we will begin again. Until then, all she can do is rest. That is something I would welcome heartily right now, such as it is." Jaheira hoped that her words would be enough to end the conversation, but the man did not seem as dissuaded as she would have liked. He sat beside her, studying the druid carefully. "You look tired."

"And you are well suited to stating the obvious. Please Keldorn... not now. Just give me a moment of peace, that is all- we can speak about what has happened in an hour. Wake me then." Jaheira brushed him off, raising an arm to prove her point- it trembled as her muscles screamed in protest.

Keldorn arched an eyebrow in concern- she had drained herself far beyond the point of safety in her attempts at healing Imoen. The druid had exhausted the magics she wielded, using her own stores of energy, literally giving of her own life to aid Imoen. He shook his head imperceptibly- too much. Too much, even for the indomitable spirit of this woman. "Sleep well... I will wake you in the morning."

"No." Jaheira's eyes snapped open as she grabbed Keldorn's arm in a weak but firm grip. "I said an hour- any longer and it will simply be a waste of my time. There are those who need me."

"A waste of time? I hardly think your life would be considered that." He replied with a frown, pushing her hand off and back to her side, but she surprised him by pushing herself back to her feet, the woman's limbs numb as she forced them to work despite all reason and sense. "Jaheira, you need rest. You will only hurt yourself if you continue this-"

"Let go of me." she growled, shaking her head even as the motion made her head spin. "I do not need your sympathy or rest- I need to keep working. I need... need-"

She nearly stumbled, Keldorn snaring her quickly and setting her back down. She glowered lightly at him, shaking off the apparent spell of dizziness. "I'm fine."

"You certainly do not look it." he replied quickly. "The troubles will still be here come the morning. It can wait."

"I do not want to wait!" she snapped, realizing how petulant it sounded, yet uncaring at the same time. "I want to make things right, I want to... I need to make things work. It has to."

"Something tells me you're not simply speaking about the Keep or her people." Keldorn offered. "Throwing yourself into physical labor won't make your other problems leave, Jaheira. Believe me- I know."

"It'll do well enough." Jaheira growled- she straightened up, pushing off of Keldorn's grip and stalking out of the Hall. He watched her leave, concern for her safety rising within him. She refused to let herself rest and he had a sinking feeling he knew exactly why. He'd done it himself right after his family's murder- threw himself into missions and work for the Order, unceasing and unwilling to rest. As long as he was working, doing something, he didn't have to think about the pain. He could block it out, pretend it wasn't there... but rest had to come eventually, and that's when despair and grief came with it. Normally he'd simply let the druid work out her problems alone, trusting that she'd find the wisdom to handle it... but her condition was far too dangerous. Something had to be done- he heard a door behind him open as he moved to go after Jaheira.

He glanced behind him- Greywulf was there, unsure if Keldorn was just leaving or leaving because of his presence. He allowed himself a slight smile. Perhaps if Jaheira would not speak with him- he turned to the sorcerer, gesturing towards the door Jaheira had left through. "Greywulf... Jaheira just left, if you wanted to speak with her. I'm sure she would appreciate it."

"I... all right." Greywulf frowned, uncertain of what Keldorn's intentions were. Passing him off so quickly wasn't like him... but then again, his relationship with the man had been strained as of late, to say the least. He could not think of anything to say so he kept moving, only stopping briefly before he passed through the door. He turned back to the paladin, watching him with an arched eyebrow. "Yes?"

"Keldorn... about what's happened here. With the Keep, and Firkraag..." he trailed off, trying to find the words. Luckily, Keldorn did not wait. The older man shrugged, his armor shifting quietly as he did.

"It's in the past, son. Besides... you have more important issues right now. I don't think it's me you want to be talking to." he gestured toward the door again, and Greywulf slowly nodded, moving to follow. Keldorn watched him leave- good then, that he was realizing his mistakes. Keldorn wasn't one to hold grudges, nor to withhold forgiveness. Their arguments were in the past and if Greywulf would let it go, so would he. It did not, however, change his decision to continue watching the lad. He was still a changed man... somehow. With any luck, this whole experience would bring back the Greywulf he had met back in Athkatla, fighting a beholder cult... but he could not be certain. Not yet.

Jaheira was trudging through the halls, using one hand to support herself as she tried to put distance between herself and... well, everyone. Just a bit of time alone, time to gather her strength so she could start working again. That's all she needed. A voice called to her from down the hall- she cursed to herself, wondering if she could pretend to have not heard her follower and duck out of sight before he or she pursued. She glanced up and inwardly groaned- the next door was almost twenty feet more down the hall. No way she'd make it there in time to escape before the person behind her caught up. Hell, she'd be lucky to make it there with breaks in between.

Somehow the man behind her had caught up to her in seconds- she turned and saw Greywulf's troubled face beside hers, worry crossing his features as he studied her posture. The last thing she wanted right now was pity. Sympathy. Especially from him. She did not speak, but kept moving, Greywulf easily keeping pace. To his credit, he didn't ask if she was all right- but he wasn't about to leave her alone, not like she appeared right now. He offered a hand to keep her steady, but she pushed him away feebly. "I do not need your help."

"I'm just... I just want to make sure you'll be okay." he offered, inwardly knowing that anything he had to say right now would probably be unwelcome. They hadn't really spoken since fighting Dermin... it was undoubtedly on her mind, and part of why she was punishing herself so harshly. An unjust, unworthy punishment, to say the least. "I can at least help you get somewhere to rest-"

"Damn you all." she muttered quietly, struggling to stop and stand to her full height, her green eyes boring into his. "I do not want your help. I do not want to rest. I want to do what needs to be done. I want to do this without everyone fawning over me like I'm unable to walk without aid."

At another time he would have responded that it wasn't far from the truth, but it might've proven a poor choice here and now. Instead, he merely replied quietly, "Is that really what you want?"

She frowned, her mouth opening and closing as if trying to decide on what to say- she shook her head, turning away from him in frustration. "No. No it's not. I want to be angry and not feel bad about it! I want to acknowledge that Dermin and Galvarey were snakes, vermin and filth! I want to let myself be furious at them, not feel guilty for ending their evil! Does that answer your question?"

"Not really..." he offered helplessly, only for her worn and tired body to seemingly flood with energy as she whirled, her eyes flaring with anger and pent-up frustration. "Stop being so damned reasonable! Get mad and say you won't stand for it! Act like you should!"

"You're doing a fine job of tormenting yourself. Why ask me to help?" Greywulf finally answered, his own sense of guilt fading and replacing itself with frustration as her words came at him.

"Because you are supposed to! Dammit! If you would just act like you were supposed to, like everyone said you would…" Jaheira sputtered, her anger slowly evaporating into fear, fear of the unknown, of what she did not understand about the man who stood before her. "None of this would have happened if you had accepted your evil heritage. I would not have sided with you. I would not have fought and bled for you. I would not have killed…"

Another time, maybe when they had first met Greywulf might have taken offense, waved her off and left her to stew in her own fears and guilt. Now... he owed them all, her in particular, far too much to be so petty. "Jaheira?" Greywulf said quietly, catching her gaze. "Making you wrong will not change anything."

"If I was wrong, the dead would have died for just reasons. So many… so many that are dead and we are the cause." she said, her voice hollow, betraying her confusion. "How can all those people have been wrong?"

"They simply were." Greywulf answered, taking her by the hand as he spoke, firmly but gently. "You know in your heart that you are right in this. You know what you have done is just."

"Bah! What does the heart know?" Jaheira spat, her braids flying as she turned away from him, arms folded in frustration. "It makes you do foolish things without cause. It makes you forget the dead before you should. It makes… it-"

She seemed to stumble, any adrenaline fueled energy she had gained fading fast. He reached out and caught her quickly, holding one of her arms over his shoulder as he helped her walk, trying to get somewhere where she could finally get some rest. She looked at his tired face as they walked in step- she closed her eyes, shaking her head. Even now, he still tried to defend her. Still tried to be there for her. She didn't deserve it...

"I… I'm sorry, Greywulf. You should not have to listen to this. You have been good and true- and I should be happy, but I am not. Even with all the things we have done to set things right, I... I still do not know."

"I will wait as long as you need me to." Greywulf smiled sadly as he brought her to one of the rooms that was vaguely uncluttered- he took off his outer cloak and laid it down beneath her. She lay upon it, her body unwilling to rise again had she even wanted to. "I just need you to know that."

Jaheira nodded, comforted as he took her hand, squeezing it tightly before he walked to the opposite side of the room. He pushed himself against the wall to where she could still see him and they could both get some well-deserved, well-earned rest. "I know... and I thank you. I need your company, here with me. I am just not comfortable with needing it."

X X X X X X

Minsc stretched as he laid his pack down on the bed alongside Solaufein's meager belongings. The drow warrior was still outside, doing something to the corpse of Firkraag that Minsc could not quite make out, but he shrugged, rather content with the battle in itself. Aerie had accompanied him to their room- exhausted and drained from her efforts in healing Imoen, but wishing to remain by her protector's side for now. He was a comforting presence to have nearby, and with all that had happened in the past hours, she would rather be near him then alone.

Minsc winced once as he felt a sharp pain in his chest- one of his ribs had most definitely been cracked by Firkraag's massive tail during the battle, but Aerie and Jaheira had exhausted themselves upon Imoen. It would wait till morning. Aerie noticed the grimace and she frowned, walking over to the ranger with concern. "Are you hurt, Minsc? I know I did not have a chance to check your wounds before, but-"

"It is nothing, Aerie." he shook his head, grinning despite the lance of pain that hit him each time he inhaled a bit too sharply. "Everything is fine, yes indeed! A fine battle, eh? Our first dragon, and you helped us! You see, the butt-kicking does nothing but improve since you become our witch! And because of you and Jaheira, Imoen will live to fight another day as well! Everything is as it should be."

"Thank you, Minsc." Aerie smiled, but his small twinges of pain had not escaped her notice. Not that he would admit to them, she noted. "Are you certain you are fine? I am a healer without spells, you know. I can help if you've hurt anything."

Minsc laughed heartily, obviously trying to deny any sort of injury- the attempt made him cough, wincing heavily. Aerie shook her head, reaching up to unlatch one of the straps that held his plate armor on. "That's enough. Take this off and I'll bandage your ribs."

"How does she know?" Minsc whispered to Boo, the hamster leaping from Minsc's girth to land on the bed as the ranger removed his plate mail and tunic underneath. "You did not tell her, did you Boo? No, of course you did not. I am sorry to have accused you."

"I know," Aerie said with a short laugh as she removed her healing supplies from her pack, digging out the bandages and the salves she had made, "Because you winced every time you took a breath. That's pretty easy to figure out. Now hold still."

Minsc nodded, doing his best to follow orders as she applied the mixture of herbs and magical essences over the bruised and battered portions of his chest and side. She finally finished, frowning once as she took hold of the roll of bandages and applied the beginning of it to his side, slowly wrapping his bare torso with them. "Minsc... can I speak with you about something?"

"Of course." Minsc replied, looking down at the small elf as she continued to tighten the bandages around his side, squeezing the affected rib and holding it in place. His bulk contrasted greatly beside her petite frame, and he pondered what she wished to speak about. "What can Minsc do for his witch? I know! You want a hamster for yourself, yes?"

"Er… no." Aerie laughed lightly.

"Hmm… not a hamster? Eh, just as well, I suppose. If you had a female hamster, Boo would have to introduce himself, and if he and she liked each other enough, all sorts of impolite things to speak of might occur." Minsc said, glancing down at Boo as the hamster squeaked. "Though I am rather large, I do not think I am big enough to carry around a pack of Boolets into battle."

"Boolets? They would be ever so cute though." Aerie laughed, imagining the ranger carrying around a pack of baby hamsters whilst shouting battle cries.

"Yes, very cute and fuzzy!" Minsc nodded. "But wait, I am rambling again. Aerie, what is it you wanted to begin with? I fear I have lost myself in all this talk of Boolets."

"Oh, yes, well…" Aerie smiled, a hint of nervousness crossing her features as she finished Minsc's dressing. "Minsc… have you ever attended a… um, a…"

"A Berserker Lodge?"

"Well, no."

"Hmm… the mid-winter fest of the noble ice weasel?"

"No."

"Oh, I know! A butt-kicking festival where many, many warriors and rangers and witches come together and fight evil together!"

"Of course not, Minsc!"

"Oh, well then… what are you trying to ask, little Aerie?"

Aerie shuffled nervously before the big ranger, trying to think of the right words. "Nalia said, and this is along ways off, I know... she said when things were cleaned up and the Keep wasn't in such ruins... she said she was going to have some sort of… victory celebration. I've never been to a celebration held by a noble family, I just… I just hoped you knew what was supposed to happen, how to act... that kind of thing."

"Oh!" Minsc nodded eagerly. "Yes, I can tell you all about such gatherings. I have been to many places where the nobles gather, and I have always been widely accepted. Two things you must remember, Aerie. First: people love to hear tales of adventuring and butt-kicking. You should see how people back away in respect and awe when I tell my stories about Boo and the battles we have fought together!"

"Um… okay." Aerie smiled as he went on.

"Second: people like jokes. So… eh, I am actually not so good at the funny thing. I usually leave that up to Boo. He has some very humorous tales. Would you like to hear them?"

"Er- that's all right, Minsc. What else?" she asked.

"Hmm… there is little more for me to say, Aerie. I personally prefer my armor at such occasions, but others say that fancy dresses and silk suits are better. Why do you ask?"

"Well… okay, Minsc, I was wondering if you would… be my escort for that evening?" Aerie said, trying not to blush.

"Escort?" Minsc frowned. "Is that anything like a protector? If so, then I am already the protector of the witch. What is different?"

"No Minsc, I mean… well, you're supposed to have some sort of person you bring with you to a party like this, and I was hoping… you would go with me." Aerie sheepishly explained.

"Oh." Minsc said, scratching his head, still not understanding completely. He thought for another few moments, then finally smiled. "Oh! I understand, Aerie. You are talking about a date!"

Aerie's cheeks reddened even further, whereupon she hastily raised her hands and shook her head, "No, no… nothing like that, I mean just the two of us as friends, since we _are_ such good friends…"

"Of course!" Minsc grinned brightly. "I shall be the most gentlemanly and, er… how does Greywulf put it, Boo? Oh yes, 'roguishly charming' escort at this feast. AND IF ANYBODY TRIES TO TOUCH MY WITCH WITHOUT MY APPROVAL THEY SHALL BE BEATEN MANY TIMES OVER!"

Aerie could not help but giggle; Minsc shrugged, sitting beside her. As long as she was happy and content… so was he.

X X X X X X

"So it's true then, aye?" Gaelan Bayle grinned as he stood before Aran Linvail, hearing final confirmation of Bodhi's lair. Their best spies had infiltrated the Graveyard District, and whether by divine intervention or uncanny luck, all had come back safely, each one reporting the same thing: the vampire guild was indeed based in the Kensai mausoleums.

"Yes, final checks have been made and all is as it appears. I want you to find Greywulf and his company, and inform them as quickly as possible. I want this matter to be finished, and soon."

"Of course, Aran! I'll be finding them as quick as ye blink!" he grinned, darting out of the room in a flash.

Aran Linvail sighed, the thief scout's relaxed posture grating on him a bit. Of all his thieves, for some reason Gaelan Bayle never did manage to put on the serious face of respect around Linvail. Though it irked him at times, Aran had yet to punish him for his lack of etiquette. Perhaps it was because he was so damn good at the job he did, or simply because the two of them went back in history quite a bit, Gaelan content to be a scout with extended privileges rather than climb the ranks as Aran had done. Either way, he relaxed in his chambers, watching the fire burn brightly, the wood crackling and smoking into the chimney above it leading outside. Even as he mused over the coming battles and how future developments would unfold, the spies who had returned chatted amongst themselves in the main hall of the guild, secluded in their usual corner of meeting.

"A fine job, eh?" a tall, thin sort laughed. "Those bloodsucking bats never saw us coming!"

"Nay, they'll need to do better if'n they want to have a chance this time around." another agreed.

"Not even sure how they made it so far last time if they were this lax." the youngest of the group, a relatively new spy remarked.

"That's because you were barely here for the first half of the guild war." a man with a dark cloak over his head grunted, his face barely visible in the light. "Don't underestimate the vamps… they've got a lot of life left in them… in a manner of speaking."

"Listen to the old man, he knows what he's talking about." the thin man nodded. "Aveldar here's been around the longest of all o' us, even longer than Linvail himself I hear."

"That true?"

"Might be. I seen many folks come and go around this place, most of them either caught or dead, but these vampires… bad news. Be the death of us all if not stopped soon." he shook his head.

There might have been more bragging and tough-talking, but his comments had drained the life from that subject fairly quickly, and topics moved on to the band of adventurers coming to fight Bodhi quickly.

"I heard they're good. Something about a beholder cult they destroyed earlier. They'll be a big help."

"They'll be good cannon fodder for our men, that's all." one laughed. "Arkanis and his boys'll do the job nicely."

"A shame to waste such pretty faces though." the younger one snickered. "Them elves… not bad lookin. Heard from some spies watching them that their Greywulf even been having something of a fling with that druid. Jaheira or somethin."

"I'd show her a good time if you know what I mean. A druid, man… she wants to roll around in the dirt, I can handle that…" the thin man smiled knowingly.

"Bah! Since when has a woman given you anything but a quick slap to the face?"

The mocking and laughing went on for a bit until finally they turned to the silent older man and asked, "What you think, Aveldar? These guys live up to their name?"

"We'll find out soon enough." he said, standing and turning from them. "I've got some business to take care of… don't wait up for me."

They shrugged as he left the building, stalking his way through the Docks and out, his stealthy talents letting him leave the District without being seen by any of Aran's guard posted on the streets. He knew them all by name, and he would have done anything to run to them and beg for death by their swords. But the magics binding him were far too strong, and he merely kept moving, his eyes flashing red as he entered the Graveyard district.

A pair of vampires slinked out of the shadows, baring their claws and fangs at the sight of the Shadow Thief approaching- he did not even blink. They looked into his eyes as he drew near, then scattered away, laughing quietly to themselves. He wanted to curse them for their arrogance- or curse himself for his weakness. Neither was an option for him. All he could do was obey. The scouting mission had not gone as Aran had been led to believe… not all of the spies had escaped their missions unharmed. Most had… save one. His path led him to the Kensai mausoleum, descending into the catacombs below where his new master awaited. Bodhi was draped over her throne as he entered, kneeling before her.

"I have come as you commanded, mistress."

"Excellent… what news to report?" she asked.

"They know of your new lair… they send for Greywulf and his company. When they arrive, they will strike alongside the elite team of assassins commanded by Arkanis and Yachmoto."

"Then I will be more than prepared for their arrival." Bodhi smirked. "What of the soulless ones? I would dearly love to know if Imoen has shriveled from the loss of her soul yet."

Aveldar related everything the men had offhandedly mentioned about their group, from the most inconsequential to the most pertinent details, Bodhi listening with great interest. When he was finished, Bodhi began to smile… then laugh. Aveldar did not question but merely stood there, awaiting her next command, though the small piece of will within him was left wondering just what was so funny. Bodhi, as though reading his thoughts, winked and said teasingly, "Just an idea. How to make Greywulf's return to my lair all the more painful for him… and all the more enjoyable for me. It is so very sad when somebody loses a loved one, don't you think?"


	85. Part 3: Gods and Lovers

A shadow lazily drifted over the gathered masses, even as the sun began its slow yet inevitable descent. Midday began taking its leave, sunset following in its wake. There stood one solitary elm tree, tall in the plains by the De'Arnise Keep. Somehow it had escaped the massive destruction and scars that the rest of the land still bore from the army of orcs. It provided the sole source of shade for the gathered masses: soldiers of the Keep, peasants and farmers who lived in the farmlands, Nalia De'Arnise herself... and six of the seven adventurers who had saved Nalia's land.

Nalia's face was solemn, pinched with barely suppressed emotion as she stepped forward before everyone, swallowing heavily as she prepared to speak. Behind her was a long grid of gravestones, stretching the entire length of the Keep. Flags bearing the De'Arnise banner were planted on all four corners of the square. The helms and weapons that had been recovered from the battle that belonged to the deceased were laid to rest beside their graves.

The noble looked out amidst those who had gathered there to honor the dead; she opened her mouth, trying to figure out how she would speak, how she could possibly honor those who had made the ultimate sacrifice. "It was almost six months ago, when our land was first blighted by the attacks that have cost out people so dearly."

She stopped briefly, fighting hard to prevent herself from breaking up so early. She kept going, "Many died in that first attack on our lands... including my father. He left this land in my care, and I have done everything in my power to honor his memory. Perhaps I have not done enough to live up to his legacy... I hope you can all forgive me for that. I hope he is proud of us- of everyone here and of what we have accomplished."

The sun dropped further in the sky- light shone behind Nalia, illuminating her outline and her figure as she continued to speak. "We have been blessed with the aid of those who gave their blood, sweat, and tears for our sake. They aided us once, against the first threat we faced... and two weeks ago, they saved our land once again. It is a godsend to have them with us for such a time, helping us rebuild."

The six adventurers she was speaking of had heads bowed- they looked up briefly to nod in acknowledgement to Nalia before she continued. "Each of you has lost someone important in this last, final struggle against those who would threaten us. Fathers, mothers, sons and daughters... brothers and sisters. We owe these, those who gave their life for the De'Arnise people, more than we can repay."

Nalia turned and faced the gravestones, walking to the one in the front- a silver cuirass with a red stallion emblazoned on the front rested there. Nalia knelt down, stroking the side of the smooth gravestone. Arat had always felt that he had failed Lord De'Arnise by allowing the first attack to occur- there was no doubt in her or anyone else's mind, he had proved his valor beyond question. Nalia stood straight and tall, turning back to those still gathered. "Take this opportunity to pay your respects to those who have given their all. Afterwards, everyone is welcomed to the halls of the Keep tonight... there will be a feast in the honor of those who have passed, and for the future of this land."

She finished, walking away from the graves as the surviving soldiers and peasants of the farmlands slowly shifted forward, many families, widows and orphans coming to say their final goodbyes. The six adventurers did not move, but merely waited for Nalia to come to them. She exhaled loudly and with great relief as she met them- Keldorn smiled gently and leaned over to embrace her, the noble taking comfort in his strength. He was without his armor- he was robed in a green tunic with silk sleeves. For the first time in many weeks he'd been given the chance to shave and clear away the excess stubble grown in their trek. He was the epitome of debonair, knightly form; the gray growing at his temples and through his hair only serving to accentuate his image. "You did well, Nalia. I know it was hard for you, but I think your father would have been proud."

"I can only hope." she sighed, rubbing her arm gingerly. Keldorn noticed, arching one eyebrow. She saw his expression of both concern, but she quickly waved it away. "No, no... just a little sore. I hadn't even noticed I'd been stabbed until the battle was over... there's barely a scar there now."

She turned to one of the others, smiling with gratitude. "I should like to know how you are doing, though. There was a time when your fate was uncertain, to say the least."

All eyes turned to the pink haired girl, standing amongst them. She was wearing brown leather with a yellow tunic underneath, clad in high riding boots and stitched black leggings. Despite still looking pale, the twinkle in her eyes, the spark of light and hope that had been so absent before was once again in her beautiful features. Imoen grinned, shrugging the question off. "Hey... it's me. Nearly bit in two by a dragon- nothing a day of healing spells won't fix."

"Or a week and a half, in your case." Keldorn corrected, his words carrying a hint of humor in their challenge. Imoen glared lightly, but quickly returned to Nalia. "Thanks for putting us up all this time- especially with the way your home was for a while..."

"Still is." Nalia added. "There's definitely more work to be done... but the majority of the Keep has been cleared, all the major rooms rebuilt and refurnished. We couldn't have done it without all your help."

"Minsc was honored to help build such a fine castle." the ranger said proudly, looking at the new gate, constructed with cedar logs from trees that, admittedly, Minsc had felled and carried back to the Keep on his own. The ranger looked at the portal for a second longer, his arms folded in satisfaction. For once the ranger was without his armor- instead, he had a black vest that split down the middle of his broad chest and left him sleeveless, showing off his massive arms. Still, unable to abandon his nature so easily, both Stonefire and Frostreaver hung on either leg. "Boo says that it will be some time before evil little orcs break through the gate that Minsc has built."

Nalia laughed- a sound that hadn't been heard for too long- and nodded in approval. "I agree, Minsc. I shall have your name inscribed on it the next chance I get."

"Don't forget to include Boo on that." Greywulf chuckled as he gestured toward Minsc, the ranger nodding in approval. The sorcerer was covered in a brown robe that nearly touched the ground, though it stopped enough to let the tips of his boots protrude from underneath. A black cloak rested on his shoulders, trailing behind him with a shoulder piece that descended to the middle of his chest. "It's been our pleasure to help you rebuild, Nalia... and to be honest, it's been a welcome break from all the fighting and traveling we're usually wrapped up in."

"Something to do while we wait for Bodhi to show herself, anyway." Aerie stepped over to Nalia, taking hold of the noble's arm, studying it for a moment. She rolled the sleeve up far enough that the scar was visible, then whispered a few incantations. Blue magic swirled around the wound until the scar was nearly invisible. Nalia thanked Aerie, the elven maiden's golden hair matching nicely with the silver and blue robes that Nalia had provided her out of the woman's own wardrobe.

"I... I should be getting back to the preparations for tonight." Nalia sighed, glancing back at the castle. "Please, excuse me. I shall see you all tonight at the feast, I trust?"

Solaufein fidgeted lightly, and then grunted as Imoen elbowed him in the side, the thief-mage nodding vigorously. "Of course! It isn't every day we get invited to wine and dine in a castle, y'know?"

Nalia laughed, then waved goodbye as she headed back to the castle, leaving them to their own devices as others continued to pay their respects to the deceased buried so close. Solaufein tugged at his dark gray robes, looking ill-suited without his armor and blade. He still wore a cloak to shield his eyes from the glare of the sun, but it was growing darker outside, enough so that he could unhood himself without too much discomfort. "My presence is unnecessary at this 'celebration.' You and the others will be more than enough to mollify the people's desire to put their heroes on pedestals." Solaufein shot at Imoen, though his voice was not as harsh as it could have been.

"Meh. Not me." Imoen shook her head, then coughed, holding her side gingerly. "I was never much for the spotlight either, but y'don't see me trying to skip out."

"That's only because you're going to try and pickpocket every noble who comes from Athkatla to offer their condolences or their 'help' in rebuilding." Greywulf said with more than a hint of disdain. "How many did Nalia say she told not to bother before she finally gave in?"

"A dozen, at least." Keldorn mused. "And I find it hard to believe that you don't have some affinity for the attention of others, Imoen."

"Nah." she shook her head. "Greywulf's better at it."

"That's because I had to be. You made me take the fall for every prank you pulled at Candlekeep when we grew up." he challenged, evoking a giggle from Aerie.

"Growing up with the two of you must have been quite the experience." the Avariel calmed herself, smiling at Greywulf as he snorted, glaring at Imoen lightly.

"Living with the two of you for one day is a trial in itself." Solaufein cut in, turning his back on all of them, the others visibly surprised at his cutting wit. He did not say anything more, but simply stalked out to the graves, joining those out there in giving honor to the fallen. Imoen nodded in what looked like approval, turning to the others. "I think he's got the right idea. I could've easily been one of the ones buried out there... think I'll give 'em their due while I'm here."

Aerie and Minsc followed behind, leaving behind Greywulf and Keldorn, the two standing together in silence as the sun above slowly began dipping below the hillsides around the De'Arnise lands. Finally, Keldorn spoke. "How is she?"

Greywulf shrugged, cocking his head toward where Imoen and the others had gone. "She's alive and that's enough for me. Things between us are... better. Maybe not as good as they used to be... but it'll have to do for now, I suppose."

Keldorn nodded, then craned his head upward to look at one of the windows in the Keep, the bedroom of their absentee member. "I have eyes, my friend. You'll note that Imoen was not the 'she' I was referring to."

Greywulf sighed deeply, then answered in seriousness. "I don't know. Better than she was two weeks ago, that's for sure. When we first arrived, I mean. She's not pushing herself like that anymore, she's actually getting sleep and keeping herself rested- but the guilt is still there. Killing Dermin meant more than any of us, her included, realized. I've tried talking to her about it... but I don't think there's anything I can say that'll help her right now."

The paladin nodded in what looked like sympathy, placing one hand on Greywulf's shoulder as the two men walked back towards De'Arnise Keep. "Helm grant you patience, boy. Methinks you'll need it."

X X X X X X

Jaheira gave a great sigh as she set her belongings down next to the large bed in her room. It was unusual for her to sleep with such comfort; more often than not she was on the ground, and to be honest, it was more comfortable that way. She enjoyed a soft cloth bed as much as the next woman… but her druidic roots and long years of adventuring had rendered such comforts frivolities at best. Added to the fact that her mind was still pounding with confusion over how to handle her anger… her frustration… she did not plan on much sleep tonight. The sounds of Nalia's royal 'friends' and the people of the De'Arnise lands arriving, the musicians playing the tones of their instruments... it would not help either. Nalia had even gone so far as to leave several dresses for her in the bedroom, each one easily worth several hundred gold pieces each. Now, each one was lying in the corner of the room where Jaheira had tossed them, settling down on the bed as she stripped her leathers and armor off. She could've joined the others outside, listened to Nalia's speech about those who had given their lives for the Keep- but she had enough guilt as it was. She didn't need to add on the weight of Captain Arat. The other De'Arnise guards who had died here. Dermin... her mentor... her friend- no!

She slammed her fist into the pillow her head was lying on as she sat up, running one hand through her chestnut colored hair as she pushed herself to a seated position, drawing the blankets up to cover herself. The last conversation she had held with Greywulf played over in her mind as she sat down upon the bed and stripped her armor off. She hadn't really meant for it to come out like that, it was just so… so easy, to blame him. It wasn't right, and she knew it, but if it weren't for his refusal to turn, his conviction... she could say it was his fault, place her guilt upon his shoulders and give her a reason for the deaths of the Harpers. More complicated still was the fact of how they felt about each other... and that she'd finally admitted it to not only herself but to him as well. Damn, she never should have done it and there was no going back on it now.

"And would you change your decision to tell him, if you had the opportunity?"

The powerful voice echoed through the room- or was it simply through the corners of her mind?- and she shot up, eyes narrow as she looked for an intruder, an invader, any sort of threat... but found nothing. She threw the blankets off herself, going for her weapon at the foot of the bed as well as her armor-

"That won't be necessary, my dear- but you already knew that, didn't you?" the man's voice echoed again, and Jaheira murmured the words to her druidic magics, surrounding herself with ethereal armor. She gripped her weapon tightly, slowly turning as she scanned the room for any sign of the mystery speaker. "Who are you?!"

"Surely you recognize my voice, Jaheira. This is, sadly, the best I can do. It's not as if I even have a body to come to you any longer."

The voice took on trace hints of humor as Jaheira tried to match the tone and the words to anyone she knew... her eyes widened before her lip curled in disbelief. "You expect me to believe you're Gorion? Perhaps you should have studied me a while longer. I am not taken in so easily."

A chuckle echoed from the disembodied voice of, presumably, her old friend and mentor. "Of course I know... and it was one of your most admirable traits. Right now, I find myself regretting praising it when I saw it in you. I have little time, so I'd appreciate it if you'd simply believe me."

She nearly laughed, shaking her head. "No... you're not real, despite anything I might want to believe. At best you're a dream- one which I do not need this night. I have much to think about, so say your peace and leave me be."

"Solitary thinking... indeed." Gorion's voice harrumphed with disapproval. "We can see how well that's served you so far. You've managed to alienate yourself from those closest to you, torment yourself with guilt, and if you choose to believe it, give yourself enough stress to invoke a dream whose sole purpose seems to lecture you. Need I say more?"

Jaheira growled, throwing her spear to the side of her bed as she sat back down, half-ready to throw her blankets back over her and try to block the so-called specter out. "By Silvanus... I don't know why my mind has chosen tonight to torment me so, but I don't need a dream apparition to lecture me in my sleep. Look at this! I'm speaking with a dream!"

"Perhaps." the voice remarked. "Or maybe I'm nothing more than a hallucination, brought on by stress. Or an illusion cast upon you by that monster you call Irenicus, sent to torment you. Or maybe I'm just a bad piece of beef you ingested last night, the effects finally pushing themselves upon you. Does it really matter, hmm?"

The druid rolled her eyes, irritated at the maddeningly calm voice of Gorion that surrounded her. Whatever this thing was, it had mastered Gorion's particular way of infuriating her by putting her suspicions and worries in a way that showed just how silly sounding they were. "And just why are you here, then? To torment me for past sins? To give me a warning of the future? Make it quick, so I can forget this meeting." Jaheira snapped, still on edge.

"Why am I here?" Gorion tsked. "I should ask you the same question. If I am a dream conjured from your troubled mind, you would know better than I. However, I do sense you might need some prodding. Tell me Jaheira, why are _you_ here?"

"What do you mean, 'why I am here'?" Jaheira demanded. "Answer my question, specter, or-"

"Jaheira…" Gorion admonished. "Keep a check on your temper. You haven't changed a bit since our last meeting, I see."

She exhaled loudly, reining in her fury. To anyone watching she'd appear to be speaking to nobody- insane or worse. Still, she was far too tired and worn, both physically and emotionally to fight. She simply glared at the ceiling as she answered. "We're here because of an enemy of your past, the dragon Firkr-"

"No, not what you have done to get here, _why_ are you here?" the voice cut in. "There's a gathering upstairs from the sound of it. I presume the rest of your friends are there, as well as my two wards. You may not appreciate the atmosphere, but I've never known you to leave your friends in the lurch."

"I- they don't need me there." Jaheira said quietly, her voice dropping to low tones, the anger evaporating from her, replacing itself with uncertainty and worry as the questions and prodding from her old friend kept coming.

"Hm. And why do you think that?"

"They… they deserve better, a better friend. They don't trust me, and I don't trust them."

"Is that so? I think you're lying Jaheira, whether you know it or not. If they didn't trust you, how did you all manage to slay my old nemesis Firkraag? Certainly not without a great deal of cooperation."

"Perhaps they do trust me, but in my heart, I still do not. I feel doubts, doubts of Greywulf and his nature, whether I should have followed him, whether Dermin was right or not, I… I had thought I was through all this. I thought I'd learned to trust him without hesitation." Jaheira looked up from staring at the floor to hear a deep sigh from the voice surrounding her. "What?"

"Jaheira, you need to look deeper. All of this- if somebody put this kind of defense upon you for their actions, you would shred through it without hesitation. What really troubles you? Or perhaps, when did this begin? You said you thought you'd learned. What changed things?"

"I… it… Dermin. After the fight with Dermin."

"I see. And what about that fight bothered you so much, Jaheira? What happened there?"

"He said things… I began to wonder if I had been wrong this whole time, if the deaths of these Harpers were my fault, if… if I was wrong in following Greywulf."

"So then… it's guilt. Guilt over your past choices." Gorion said softly.

"Yes." Jaheira spoke, head bowed again in shame. There was silence for a few more minutes, and for a moment Jaheira feared that the specter was gone for good, abandoning her without any rhyme or reason to his visit. Finally it spoke again, a finality and resolution to his tone.

"Well then, I'd say it's time you decide on who just is to blame for this mess, hmm? It is somebody's fault, that we can be sure of. But fence sitting, unwilling to blame Greywulf or Dermin or Galvarey or yourself and yet blaming everyone at once... it's not healthy, for one thing."

Jaheira smiled despite herself, shaking her head as the voice cleared its throat, waiting for her reply. "But who? How can I decide on-"

"By examining the evidence. Didn't Greywulf call you a detective? Oh yes, he was calling himself Veldrin at the moment, wasn't he." Gorion mused. "Veldrin, Greywulf… that boy always did have a fondness for names other than the one I gave him. I thought Galmarath was a fine name, myself. Now then, I think it's safe to discount you from blame for this whole mess. Seeing as how you were always reacting to either Dermin and Galvarey's actions or to Greywulf's choices, I'd say there isn't much room for a third party to blame, wouldn't you?"

Jaheira nodded, really unable to say much as Gorion continued, "So, either Greywulf or the Harpers then. We could start with Greywulf, if you don't mind. Has the young man done anything to make you distrust him?"

"I… he is a Bhaalspawn. He became the Slayer, for one." Jaheira answered, her mind finally shifting into the analytical mode this visitation of Gorion was pushing her into.

"Ah, yes. The Slayer, Bhaal's earthly avatar." Gorion frowned. "I had hoped Greywulf would never become powerful enough to house such a being. Nonetheless, it happened, as you say. Has he embraced this power, let it control him as Sarevok would have done?"

"He has not… actually, he did... once." Jaheira recollected. "In the cave in the Underdark. He deliberately became the Slayer, chose to make the transformation."

"Indeed. And did he attack you then? Why did he choose to release the power? For destruction, for death, for what personal bloodlust or gain did he unleash the Slayer on the earth?"

"He… he did it to save us." Jaheira's mouth went dry suddenly as she spoke. "There was a Balor that attacked us; we could not bring down in time to escape the cavern… he bought us time to escape by changing to the Slayer, sacrificing himself in the process if not for Adalon's intervention."

"They say the road to hell is lined with good intentions." the voice recited. "Was there another way? Did he use this merely as an excuse to glory in the power of Bhaal, or were you all truly doomed without his transformation?"

"I… we could have kept fighting. We could have continued to struggle on…" Jaheira slowed, listening to her own words. "But no. We would have failed, even if we had killed the Balor. It would have been too late for us to escape."

"So the only time he has willingly given into the Slayer was to protect you and the others." Gorion mused again. "Rather noble, if a bit unorthodox. I think we've discussed him enough. The Harpers… or at least the ones who you fought, Galvarey and Dermin. Do you have any reason to distrust them?"

"Certainly!" Jaheira's eyes flashed, reliving each encounter with the two dead men. "They sought to advance themselves in the Harper organization for money and personal profit at the expense of innocents-"

"Innocents like Greywulf?" Gorion cut in.

Jaheira did not answer for a moment, thinking deeply. Finally, she spoke. "Yes. Innocents like Greywulf. At the encounter with Galvarey and the first one with Dermin, Greywulf had done nothing worthy of suspicion yet."

Gorion nodded, "And what did cause your indecision concerning the side you chose to follow? Why did you trade a measure of confidence in Greywulf for Dermin?"

"He is a Harper, one of my kin… I grew under his tutelage." Jaheira answered, painful memories of her mentor flashing through her aside other memories of her time as a Harper.

"Are our teachers always correct? Or rather, did you always consider me to be correct when we spoke?" Gorion chuckled.

"Certainly not." Jaheira said wryly. "Everyone has their faults and makes mistakes…"

"And perhaps Dermin made one here. Of course this is all disregarding his admission of siding with Galvarey before he even knew about the Slayer change. Dermin never even knew that Greywulf could become the Slayer, did he?"

"No… no, he didn't." Jaheira answered, slowly understanding.

"So let's come to a decision at last, put this all behind us then. You can blame Greywulf, who's sole fault in this has come from his parentage, a fact he had no control over, and that he has become the incarnation of Bhaal on this plane… though by your own admission it was done for the sole purpose of saving the ones he loves from destruction."

Gorion paused for a moment as though making sure Jaheira was taking note of all this, then remarked, "Or we can blame Dermin and Galvarey, who both admitted to using Greywulf as a trophy for advancing in power and money. They used tools such as your friend Reviane to do their killing, who merely did as they were commanded, not even aware of the full situation. The strongest defense Dermin has is a few words he spoke at the end of his life, mortally wounded while trying to ambush and kill you and those you travel with."

Jaheira raised a hand, stopping the voice from continuing as she looked up at him, eyes glassy with tears. "I've been a fool, haven't I… right in front of me, and I could not see it."

"I was wondering how long you would let me continue." Gorion chuckled, his voice echoing through the room. "But I knew you would see in time. Memories are never left unclaimed or untouched. Purposefully or otherwise, you cannot outrun your past. It defines you in more ways than one; the good memories of ones whom you loved and cared about; memories of the lessons learned in both hardship and in peace... and the reasons for why you trust whom you trust."

Jaheira paused for a moment, her eyes narrowing as she thought of the words Gorion had just spoken. They were familiar... but not spoken by the dead mage. Someone else- she let a hint of a smile creep onto her face as she pieced it together. "I thank you for your words of encouragement... but I know for a fact that you are not who you say you are. 'Gorion'."

The voice laughed again, slowly heightening from Gorion's low tones to a soft, light voice, a feminine chuckle of teasing congratulations. "May the gods guide your path, Jaheira. Know that they are watching... as am I."

"Do the affairs of the grove of Letherel interest you so little that you have no other option than to watch our travels unfold, Queen Dianya?" Jaheira posed the question as she ran one hand through her hair.

"Just keeping an interest in those whom I care about. Perhaps you and I can both get some rest now... although there is a young man upstairs who I'm sure wouldn't mind seeing you before the night's end. You might consider making an appearance. The green dress over there is particularly lovely."

Dianya's presence faded, as did her voice, and Jaheira knew she was alone once again. No... not alone. The Dryad Queen's words rang strongly in her mind and any guilt she had carried against herself or against Greywulf was gone; it was as though a massive weight was lifted from her. Dermin's spiteful words at the end no longer haunted her thoughts. She would finally sleep well once more… the dress in the corner caught her eye. Sleep could wait.

X X X X X X

The shimmering portal closed, the ritualistic spell Dianya had conjured expiring as she finished. She smiled, taking comfort in the fact that what she had done and said helped... Jaheira would no longer be bothered by the guilt of her past deeds... the gods willing she'd be able to find peace now. Gods willing... she'd come too close, this time. She exhaled deeply, knowing how far she was pushing the boundaries of what she could and couldn't do. She'd been given leniency to provide the Bhaalspawn's companions with brief glimpses into their own futures the last time they'd visited- the condition being that Greywulf knew nothing of what she had said.

Now she was meddling once again, albeit in a way that could little affect whether Greywulf chose a darker path or a lighter one. That was really the question, when it came down to it. How much interference could be permitted by the deities of both light and dark before it was too much? None, if the edict of Ao was to be followed. Disobeying the elder god- it was not something she did lightly, if at all. Hopefully her small bits of pushing and prodding would be unnoticed-

"My my... Dianya, I had thought you a better sport than this."

The sinister yet somehow cheerful voice boomed all around her as she felt a dark power writhe its way into the beauty and peace of Letherel. It was like an invasion, a foul odor or taint that ruined the garden, but Dianya merely gathered herself, knowing whom she faced... and why he was here. A figure strode through the doorway that led to Dianya's private quarters, the wood curling away from his presence as though repelled by the dark power emanating from this man. He was thin, though not to the point of being gaunt. His hair was black as the feathers of the raven, coming to a widow's peak at the front of his head. He wore a dark vest with blood-red sleeves and dark leather pants- a sash was wrapped around his waist with a skull as the buckle. He smiled unkindly, and Dianya bowed her head slightly in respect for the power of the god before her. "Cyric... to what do I owe this visit?"

"Oh Dianya..." he wagged one finger, shaking his head. "Do you think you can fool the Prince of Lies?"

The Black Sun leaned forward, whispering vilely in Dianya's pointed ears. "I know what you've been up to, little dryad. Your secrets that you've been hiding away. You've been such a naughty girl."

"If you speak of my business with the Bhaalspawn and his companions, I shall say to you what I have told my dryads- my business is my own." Dianya replied briskly, pulling away from the grinning deity. She tried to avoid letting him see how both repulsed she was by his presence, as well as how much fear she truly did carry for him. He was, after all, a god- and no matter how powerful of a mortal she was, she was still simply that. Mortal.

"Your business is your own, hmm?" Cyric said, tapping one finger to his chin as he stood in mock thought. "Perhaps my memory fails me... but by the edict of Ao, your interference in the destiny of the Bhaalspawn has been strictly forbidden. Just as I, Mystra, Helm, that silver dragon Ada-something-or-other, and all the other beings deemed too powerful have been restricted. However, you seem to be finding this limitation rather... chafing. What is this now- the third time you've spoken with one of them?"

Dianya turned her back on the god, walking over to pour wine from a large silver vase- it filled two cups and she handed one to the god as she grasped the other with two hands, staring into the red liquid. "I have done nothing to aid or push the Bhaalspawn in one way or another. My interference-"

"Was still interference!!" Cyric screeched, hurling the glass she had given him across the room, shattering it. He leaned in, a malevolent grin crossing his dark features. "Tell me, why shouldn't I smite you right now? Does Ao's mandate not give me that right? Hmm?!"

Dianya did not recoil, did not back up or show fear- she simply cocked her head, her pale skin and deep green eyes contrasting greatly with that of the god before her. "For the Prince of Lies, you seem to be holding on to the strictest view of the rules as possible."

Cyric pulled back, shrugging nonchalantly, his previous fury gone but not forgotten. "Perhaps. Of course, the best lies are those which contain just a hint of truth. It makes them so much more... delicious."

"If that is so, then you should be well at ease with my handling of the Bhaalspawn." Dianya replied, taking a sip from her own chalice. "For all my so-called meddling, I've only succeeded in keeping those he loves closer to his heart... lessening the likelihood of him thirsting for the power of the Throne, of taking over the portfolio you claimed from his father. This is what you fear most, yes?"

Cyric scowled, most likely at her implication that he was afraid. Still, he did not reply. He turned his back on her and strode to the doorway of her quarters. Before he left the room, he stopped, craning his head to toss over her shoulder. "We'll see. I shall investigate on my own- I trust I shall not need to visit once again? If I do... well, it will not be pretty."

The god vanished, leaving Dianya alone once more. She exhaled deeply, letting the strain of maintaining her composure and nerve in front of the Prince of Lies evaporate. She was right... her efforts were being noticed. This was the last time she'd be able to help the Bhaalspawn or his companions in such an overt, outright way. They were on their own from here on out... every last one of them. Even the one whose fate Dianya had seen when they were in Letherel, but had yet to come to pass. The one whom Dianya had seen in her visions... the one whose death was inevitable. Inescapable.

X X X X X X

"They make a cute couple, don'tcha think?" Imoen remarked, watching Aerie and Minsc as the two spoke with those who wished to hear their stories, mostly farmers and peasants who wished to see the ones who had saved their lands in person. Still, anyone who desired to speak with either kept a somewhat wide berth. Minsc was taking his role as her escort for the evening quite seriously, and whenever anyone looked as though they were coming too close to his witch, he made certain to let them know. Aerie smiled sheepishly at the ones who were on the receiving end of Minsc's glare, mouthing apologies.

"Aye, they do- although it's a good thing Nalia didn't bring musicians. Helm knows it wouldn't have been pretty if they were dancing or something similar." Greywulf sighed. "Minsc doesn't quite strike me as the waltzing sort."

"Meh, he's just tired." Imoen waved Greywulf off. "Speaking of dancing, why didn't you ask to be Aerie's 'escort' tonight? She's looking good tonight."

Greywulf looked at Aerie, her dress flowing behind her. The torchlight on the walls illuminated her and set her hair glowing- he briefly imagined a pair of white wings billowing out from behind her, the perfect image of an angel. He smiled, then turned back to Imoen. "I don't think so... Aerie and I have... discussed, our relationship already. We're just friends, nothing more."

Imoen arched one eyebrow, a grin crossing her face. "Soooo... you didn't tell me about this before. What else happened while I was locked up that you didn't mention, hmm?"

"Believe me... it wasn't as exciting as you might think." Keldorn's wry voice cut in as the paladin approached, nodding in respect to both of them as he clasped both hands behind him, his broad frame ramrod straight. "Still, any embarrassing stories you wish to hear, I shall be happy to oblige you at a later date. Preferably when Greywulf isn't around to repudiate my word."

"You're a horrible person, Keldorn. Especially for a paladin." Greywulf replied easily, not quite letting his own smirk show. "Where's Solaufein?"

"Did you really think he'd stay for long?" Imoen snorted, shaking her head with her hands on her hips. "He's in his room- between him and Jaheira, we're getting to be downright anti-social. Well, most of us. I'm pretty sure I saw a couple of those ladies out there eyeing you, Keldorn. Not every day a chivalrous knight comes sweeping gallantly into their lives, I'm guessing."

"Young maidens indulging an old knight out of respect, that's all." Keldorn chuckled. "Still... if you fear being seen as anti-social, we could always dance. Shall we?"

"What? I- oh no. You're not getting me to do that kind of fancy moving around and-" Imoen backed up but yelped as Greywulf winked at Keldorn and conjured a slight magical push to knock her forward and into Keldorn's arms. He swept her along, despite the lack of music; watching for a second or two, Greywulf had to admit that the man was good. He laughed as he watched Imoen's clumsy attempts at following Keldorn's lead and then winced, reconsidering his move as he saw her surreptitiously remove the small pick pocketing knife on her belt and begin to guide Keldorn towards several of the nobles who had arrived to congratulate and console Nalia.

Just as he was trying to figure out the best way of either stopping Imoen, maneuvering the target nobles away from Imoen or alerting Keldorn to her mischief, he heard footsteps behind him, followed by a voice he had not expected to hear, least of all that night.

"I'm surprised to find you alone… I would have expected some young maiden to have snatched you up already."

He turned to see Jaheira standing behind him, a soft smile on her face. He opened his mouth to speak- and could not find the words as he looked her over. Dianya had been right... the green dress was particularly lovely. The upper half was formfitting, starting right before her shoulders and embroidered with several intricate patterns. Flowing sleeves hung from her arms and the bottom of the dress was ruched with a single, short train following behind. She waited for several moments before folding her arms, glaring with what almost appeared to be self-consciousness. "Well?! Why are you staring? Have you been struck with muteness for the night?"

"It's just… I've never seen you wear a dress before." he laughed lightly, grasping for something to say. In truth, he actually hadn't. She had always been in comfortable tunic and light travel garb before, or else in full battle armor. This… was a pleasant surprise.

"Should I take your silence as disapproval, then?" Jaheira replied with an arched eyebrow and a mocking tone.

"No, no… you look incredible. I'm just not used to it, that's all." he responded. "I'm glad to see you though. I didn't think you'd show up."

"I wasn't intending to, to be honest. It took me a while to come to this point. A lot of thinking, reflecting…"

Greywulf watched her face as she frowned, as though trying to find the right words before she seemed to shake the frown off, shrugging with uncharacteristic cheer.

"Whatever happened, I'm glad you're here, Jaheira." Greywulf bowed slightly out of courtesy, hoping that this mood would last. He saw no sense in pushing it… her presence was more than enough for him. He felt it was rather obvious that any changes in their relationship were put on hold until her emotions were worked out- the last thing he wanted to do was pressure her. They both had feelings for each other and it would progress from there.

"You needn't keep such a distance, you know. I am in less of a mood now." Jaheira said wryly, striding over to him, surprise evident on his face.

"And here I thought I was being the sensitive gentleman by keeping a respectful boundary between us." Greywulf replied as she settled beside him. "Are you sure? Pardon me for being blunt, but I did not want to risk setting you off again."

Jaheira chuckled as she watched the other members of their group before turning back to glance at him, looking up at his eyes, his height just above hers. "I do not blame you. Such trouble I have been. Simple feelings made complicated by the strangest things. I… I hope I have not harmed your view of me."

"It has been difficult, but I would not trade your company for anyone's." He moved his hand to hers and grasped it as he spoke- she did not pull away or flinch, she simply tightened their grip, clutching his hand as much as he was holding hers.

"You do not know how glad that makes me. I worried that I had ruined what we… you are my stability, you know?" she turned to face him as she spoke, finding the words she wanted. "Perhaps it doesn't always seem like it, but you are. Know that... know that I care for you, even if I do not show it. If this meant nothing- if I felt nothing for you- it would have been easy to deal with. Small consolation, I know."

"Not so small." he shrugged with a grin. "Does this mean you are finally comfortable with me, or am I still on Slayer-Watch whenever we spend time together?"

She rolled her eyes, though not unkindly, before she smirked and said, "I am trying, though your 'witty' comments do not help matters. You have shown such caring so far… I have taken you for granted as someone that would always be here, even as I questioned our very friendship. I will not make such a mistake again, of this I am sure."

She looked outside, gazing at the star-filled sky that was just visible through the small windows that lined the royal court. He noticed, then glanced over at the stairwell on the far side of the hall. "Feel like getting some air?"

She nodded gratefully and the two left the others behind, ascending the stairs until they stood atop the roof of De'Arnise Keep. The roof had not been cleared as much as the insides; debris still littered it here and there, and the remnants of battle were yet visible. It was fitting, almost- their lives were forever cluttered in battle, yet it made the moments of peace, much like this one, that much sweeter. They said nothing for several moments, simply looking at the night sky together. Finally, Greywulf coughed, pushing one hand into the pocket of his robes. "I... I've been meaning to give you this. I hadn't found a time that seemed right... but I can't think of a better time than now."

He handed her a small leather pouch- Jaheira opened the bag and let the contents spill into her hand. It was a small locket, golden in color, a small latch letting it open and close. She opened it, gazing inside. There was a picture of Greywulf and Jaheira on either side, their images magically captured and placed into the locket.

"I… there was a mage I talked to in Athkatla before we left for the Keep. He offered to put any picture I wanted into the locket, if I could just hold the picture in my mind for a bit. It seemed appropriate… just a small gift, that's all." Greywulf explained, unsure of what to say; she remained silent as he spoke, merely looking at the dual pictures as though studying them for flaws. Greywulf began cursing himself inwardly. _A locket? Of all things, a locket? You fool. You really should have thought this out further. You can wield magics greater than most mortals on Faerun, but you can't even pick out a nice gift for a girl. _

"If you don't like it, that's fine… don't feel like you have to keep it or anything-" he hurriedly started, but Jaheira's head snapped up to look at him, a surprised expression on her face.

"Oh! No, no, I do like it… I do… " she said with a comforting smile.

Greywulf tried not to be too visible as he sighed in relief, his heartbeat slowing a bit from its frantic pace before. She slipped the locket around her neck, letting it rest on the top of her chest, just visible above her dress. "The locket is lovely… thank you."

He opened his mouth to speak, to reply graciously, to say that no thanks were necessary- words were unnecessary. He found himself drifting closer toward her, their eyes closing as they leaned in, his lips a hairsbreadth from brushing hers- "Coo!! Found ye both at last!"

They pulled away abruptly, Greywulf's breath catching as a tight ball of irritation settled in his stomach. He inhaled sharply, turning to see an all-too familiar cloaked and hooded figure stride across the top of the castle, pushing aside small piles of debris that were in his way. Jaheira growled, her eyes narrow, understandably upset with his intrusion. "Gaelan Bayle."

He nodded, grinning with a flourish and a bow. "Aye, ye've nailed it on the head as it were! Though I can't help but notice ye both looking a'mite cross with ol' Gaelan. Was this a bad time?"

Greywulf nearly barked a laugh; instead, he merely nodded, rubbing his face with one hand. "Yes. Definitely a bad time... words cannot express how bad a time this was for you to interrupt."

"Er... sorry then. The two of ye do make a fine couple though." he said apologetically, glancing behind him as though to ensure he hadn't been followed up the stairwell. "But ye have no idea how long it's taken me to track ye down. Two weeks, near. Figured I'd wait until ye weren't surrounded by the peasants and such... did nae want to ruin the rest of the feast, aye?"

"Of course." Greywulf said with a grimace. "What is it you're here for, then? Bodhi's location, I presume?"

"Aye, that it is!" Gaelan grinned. "The Shadowmaster sent me off to find you and let you know that he's done what he promised. The location of our vampire friends, as well as putting Arkanis' team into position to back you up as soon as you're ready. We'll have people watching you, and once you enter the Graveyard District he'll set his boys into action. I'd suggest you do everything necessary first before heading to the Graveyards; once you enter we'll start the attack, and there'll be no going back afterwards."

"We understand. Do you have a map of the location?" Greywulf inquired.

"Sure enough. Here it be. You mentioned you might have another few groups coming to help, aye?" Gaelan asked, not bothering to wait for answer. "The crypts we seek have a total of four entrances in the Graveyard, all leading to one crossroads before delving into the final sanctum. You might get your other friends to attack those positions to make everybody's job easier. We'll be attacking right there, so whenever you're sure you're ready, we'll be waiting."

With that, Gaelan Bayle bowed once more, than vanished into the shadows once again, slipping downstairs and likely out of the Keep itself in a matter of seconds.

The two exchanged glances at each other- as tempting as it was to try and return to their spoiled moment, they both knew each other far too well. Time to go to work.

"Well? What do you think?" Jaheira asked, exhaling as she examined the map Bayle had brought with him.

"I'd say this party's just about over. Let's get changed, grab our weapons, and prepare to move. Bodhi won't know what hit her."

X X X X X X

The creaking of ancient gates opening echoed through the royal palace of Suldenesselar, light entering the darkened room with their opening. As the gates opened ever further, the light stretched until it illuminated the very throne of Queen Ellesime, the ruler of Suldenesselar for hundreds if not thousands of years. The Queen of the elves was not absent; she was still there, standing in front of the throne with a look of weary determination on her beautiful features. Majesty and regal power still radiated from her, though the light and life of her presence seemed diminished somewhat, despite the light now upon her features. The light suddenly vanished as something blocked the passage inside, a shadow creeping over the floors of the palace hall, floors that were littered with dozens of dead drow bodies, invaders who had penetrated all the way into the palace… and fallen there, no match for the ancient power residing within. The coming figure regarded each body for brief moments, and a slight chuckling could be heard from him as he approached the very throne of the palace. Ellesime did not need to squint at the approaching silhouette to know who was coming; there could be only one who would approach her at such a time in such a relaxed manner. She could feel the dark magic swirling about his presence as he neared her, a stark contrast to the last time she had felt his presence so near to her. The footsteps finally ceased, Jon Irenicus standing in the court of Queen Ellesime, the two of them locking eyes for the first time in so many years.

"Joneleth."

He did not respond at first, but merely gazed at the elf-queen before him, studying her coldly. He slowly turned to the side and began pacing back and forth, his steps slow but deliberate.

"I had wondered, Ellesime, how you would react to seeing me once more… whether by rage, cold reason, resignation to the fate you have so justly earned… I even entertained myself with the thought of you making a plea for forgiveness." Irenicus said as he paced, never looking at the elf before him. "But I knew the truth… there was no real question. And you have not disappointed me, Ellesime. Weakness."

The last word was almost an accusation as he whirled to face her, his eyes smoldering with fury. "Weakness of heart, of morals, even of conviction. For some time after we parted I felt that perhaps your decision had been based on mercy, that perhaps you expected me to earn my way back to this desolate wasteland you call Suldenesselar. And I tried, Ellesime… oh how I tried. But it was never enough… my heart was deadened to any restitution that I could make, but to embrace my new life was not a possibility either. Good and evil, right and wrong; all of it was meaningless to me. I wept bitterly for so many days, trying to find my way back to you… and then I realized the truth. It was not mercy or love that kept you from killing me that day… it was weakness. If you were strong you would have ended my life, mine and Bodhi's. If you were strong you would have ensured that I could never come as far as I have with my new life! If you were strong you would have never made mention of the name you just called me… if you were strong you would be cursing me with your dying breath right now!"

Finally, the words stopped coming from the man standing below Queen Ellesime, the elven monarch taking all the insults and anger-ridden accusations in silence. She closed her eyes, then spoke in a hushed yet powerful tone, "You are wrong, Joneleth. It was mercy that stayed my hand that day. Mercy that shall not be shown to you again. You have desecrated the temple of Corellan Latharian, and shed the blood of hundreds of innocent elves in this sacred city. Powerful you may be, but you have yet to test your strength against the daughter of the Seldarine, the high circle of the elven gods. May you finally find your peace in death."

With those words, Ellesime raised her hands and shouted three words of power in sequence, light blazing from her eyes as gusts of wind and magic shook the very earth around her, her hair billowing up in the fury of the great elven magic she wielded. A pillar of great fire and magic swirled above Irenicus, who gazed up at the storm as he clenched his fists, planting his feet. He raised a shout of Bhaal incantations, darkness and purple lightning crackling about as a swirling hole of abyssal magic began to form above him. The two great storms of magic finally reached their apex, the blood of the gods rising in each combatant: the essence of the elven gods in one, Bhaal's taint in the other. Both magic storms unleashed their fury, the light of the heavens belching white flame downwards, the darkness absorbing it within itself, shielding Irenicus from its devastating effects. There was no sign of slowing among either magic-user as Ellesime's spell continued to pour out its heavenly fire, while Irenicus' vortex of darkness absorbed and engulfed the white magic, each spell negating the power of the other. Irenicus turned his gaze from the deadly duel above and turned to fix upon Ellesime instead. The dual maelstroms of magic were loud, but he shouted to be heard over them, "Your powers have grown weak! Ellesime of the divine, where is your vaunted strength now? Why do your spells falter in the face of my own magic?"

Ellesime's face grew dark, her eyes flashing with anger at the goads of Irenicus as he taunted her. Even as the moments passed, a shift in power began occurring… the heavenly power began slowing, it's fiery blast no longer as intense. Irenicus shouted a laugh, stretching and focusing his powers even further, spurred onward by this sight. Ellesime's face betrayed the first hint of fear as she quickly renewed her efforts, her eyes closing as she bowed her head, muttering continuous chants of ancient elvish, and reinforcing the spell's power. It stopped Irenicus' advancement, but Irenicus was unfazed. He dropped one hand and shouted a quick incantation, throwing a skull trap at Ellesime, giving a bit of ground to do so. Ellesime's arm flashed upward without even looking, deflecting the magically ignited skull as she sent the splinters of bone and matter flying away from her.

"Do not underestimate the power of the elven gods, Jon." Ellesime voiced, her voice echoing through the halls of the court. "Yours is a magic stolen from another, a fleeting power that you cannot control. What was taken shall be returned; the magics you wield are not yours to keep."

"Save your platitudes and your so-called wisdom! It means nothing to me." Irenicus sneered. His hands flared a deep red, the vortex of magic he commanded growing and swelling in power, engulfing more of the downpour of magic, aiming towards Ellesime now. The gust of power took her by surprise; she quickly positioned her own spell so that it was protecting her, the spells facing each combatant horizontally now. Small pieces of marble pulled from the throne itself and flew past Ellesime, engulfed and disintegrated inside the vortex. Irenicus shot her a feral grin at the sight, the danger so real and so near.

"I sense your fear, Ellesime. You know that I will be victorious. You can never win."

Ellesime did not respond, but her left hand twitched, fingers wrapping around an arcane drawing as two blasts of bluish arcing energy jumped around the dark vortex Irenicus was creating, aiming to strike the mage from either side. He saw the imminent threat, but instead of slowing his primary spell, he braced himself, taking the brunt of each shock, letting the two bolts tear through his system. He looked up, showing no sign of discomfort even as the very energy of the attack danced and played over his body.

"A desperate attack from a desperate opponent." he growled, letting his mind and body fully join together, the storm of darkness growing larger once more. "You were doomed from the moment our battle began… you draw your strength from the peace and life of the elven circle… as long as I am here, you will have no peace. I draw mine from the very essence of murder and hatred of Bhaal… and my heart bears no end of hatred for you."

This time, try as she might… Ellesime could not match. The words he had spoken were true; Ellesime could not find the peace she so desperately needed to match with Irenicus' hate driven power. The whirlpool sucked in her own magics and dissipated them, unbending and unmoving. Her attempts to distract him were futile, and he did not waver in his single-minded drive to destroy her. The sight of the approaching darkness did nothing to help her, and beads of sweat appeared on her face as she desperately tried to hold him back, pushing with all her might… but it was not enough. With one final clap of thunder, the dark magics of Irenicus completely overwhelmed Ellesime's, blasting through the magic she sustained and sweeping through her body, the tainted magic flooding through her, a collision of forces inside her so great that she was thrown from her feet, landing at the feet of her own throne. She was dead to the world, ashen and cold. The once regal elf queen of power lay helpless before Jon Irenicus, the crown of the Seldarine rolling from her head… and finally coming to a rest at his feet.


	86. Part 3: Gathering Allies

"You have got to be kidding me." Imoen remarked dryly. About a hundred yards in front of their group of seven, ten flashing portals of light had just opened, ripping the curtain of space and time like lightning through the sky. Out of these strobing blue gateways stepped familiar antagonists; they were gray skinned, bony, and covered in gold and silver armor.

Greywulf offered a small prayer of thanks that they were no longer at De'Arnise Keep; he had no desire to see Nalia's home suffer the same fate of Brynnlaw. They had left the Keep a few hours past, on the tail of many fond farewells from the noble and her people. Gaelan's message had accelerated their timetable; after discussing their new plans at length, the group had decided to allow themselves one day of preparation before their final assault, calculating in the time necessary for them to deliver the dragon scale Solaufein had gathered to Cromwell.

Spirits were high after their departure; Nalia had insisted on using the money that her noble friends had donated to pay them for their aid, and as well as restocking their supplies with fresh rations and smithing for their armor and weapons, she had made a gift of the very weapon Arat had defended the Keep with: the Flail of Ages. It was not a gift to be given lightly, nor did the adventurers treat it as such. Still, she could think of no better way to remember the brave soldier, and the only question was who would wield the mighty tool. The group had discussed it at length, and in the end it was the unlikeliest of all, the Avariel in their midst who bore the weapon at her side. She was coming into her own without question; Aerie's skill and prowess was becoming great indeed, and a weapon as powerful as the Flail could do nothing but help her.

Still, their progress in returning to Athkatla had taken them right past the Wood of Sharp Teeth, a place where a certain near-death mishap had occurred the last time they had camped here. Imoen had just made an offhand comment about the adventure, despite not being present at the moment- the boom of magic spells igniting and opening gateways interrupted them, sending gusts of wind whipping through the air with twigs and leaves swirling all around. Greywulf's robes flapped furiously in the wind as he raised one arm for protection, squinting at the figures as they made their approach, their complexions and purpose unmistakable.

"Githyanki." Solaufein muttered as he dropped both hands to the long hilt of the blade he carried. "They do not appear friendly- I would ask what you have done to antagonize such as these, but I begin to think I do not wish to know."

"You're right. You don't." Greywulf tossed back, feeling the comforting grip of his staff as he studied their numbers. All of them looked just as talented, well armed, and vicious as the first group they had fought... rather, fled from at Spellhold. It would not be an easy fight, and he had a distinct feeling they were not going to be open to negotiation.

Keldorn glanced at the sorcerer, nodding toward the sorcerer's pack. "Perhaps you might simply return the Silver Sword to them, Greywulf. It was stolen from them to begin with, after all. It might be the only way to end this constant hunt."

He was not given a chance to reply- the Githyanki at lead let out a bloodcurdling howl, baring his needle-like teeth as he pointed with a bony finger. "The wielder, thief, and defiler! The Sword Stalkers have found you, mortal!"

"And now you're going to threaten us with a holy, painful death by those giant swords you're carrying until I give you back the Silver Sword that Saemon Havarian... note that I'm not Saemon, by the way... stole from you." Greywulf cut him off smoothly, glaring heavily at the alien race. "There's no need for all of this, trust me. Here..."

Greywulf dipped his hand into the pack he was carrying, then withdrew the gleaming shard of silver that had been resting inside for so long. Gasps of anger and shock issued from the Githyanki as they saw the relic- their blades were drawn in an instant as Greywulf raised his other hand, hoping to halt them before they did anything rash. "Look... here it is. Not going to try and keep it or steal it from you again- just going to set it down right here, we'll all back up and you can take it and be on your way. Sound good? Okay. Here goes..."

He placed the blade on the ground, then backed away from the artifact along with the rest of the group as the Githyanki advanced, their leader bending over to grasp it with trembling hands. He took a golden, jaggedly shaped hilt from his side and put it to the base of the sword blade- the two fused together in a great collision of magic. It gleamed with power- once again the Vorpal Sword was made whole. The Gith who held it smiled broadly, then turned to the adventurers, gripping it tightly. His eyes narrowed, and the whole band of Githyanki began to advance once more.

"Somehow I don't think they're just going to let this go." Imoen whispered harshly. "Oh, and now they have what looks like a really powerful magic sword. Good job on that one."

"The blade is returned... but vengeance must be taken for the defilement of its grace! In exchange for your cooperation, we shall make your deaths as painless as possible." one of the Githyanki bit out, raising his sword high.

Greywulf glanced at Keldorn, who shrugged helplessly as he drew the Hallowed Redeemer. "You know, this really wasn't how I pictured this going." He turned back to the Githyanki, raised a hand with his palm flashed outward and spoke a word of power. Fire leapt from his hand and consumed the nearest Githyanki in a blaze that snaked and coiled around the alien.

The alien who had just been set ablaze howled in pain and anger; his fellows snarled and leapt forward, their swords a blur of motion and deadly art. Keldorn caught the Vorpal Sword on his own blade, pushing it off with great effort. His counter was shunted away and the Vorpal Sword came down, far too close to his head for comfort. The paladin moved to try and circle his opponent- he felt weight shift as the top layer of his pauldron slid off, shaved away by the magical edge of the Githyanki's weapon. Imoen's rebuke to Greywulf suddenly seemed a lot more warranted.

"Ten against seven." Solaufein grunted as he stumbled away from a double-team the Githyanki had lain upon him. He found himself beside Minsc, the ranger holding both axes at guard to keep his own opponents at bay. "Any ideas, ranger?"

Minsc did not reply right away; he found himself bumping up against the others as they backed up together, huddled in a circle formation as their enemies closed in around them. "Boo says Minsc should go berserk and rip the skeleton men apart. Minsc agrees."

The drow glanced warily up at Minsc, on the verge of slipping into a berserker rage- a crossbow bolt struck one of the Githyanki in the neck, his legs collapsing under him as he fell forward onto his knees, gurgling softly in death. The Githyanki turned to see the source of the unexpected attack; five figures stood on the hillside above their current position, three of them charging down the hill with weapons drawn, two remaining upon the hill to strike from a distance. A short figure stood on the hill, fiddling with what looked like an overcomplicated, oversized crossbow as he loaded something vaguely skull-shaped into the launcher. He turned and looked up at the slender, cloaked figure still standing with him on the hillside "Heh. Just like shooting hobgoblins in a barrel. Did I ever tell you about my Uncle Tookar and his Orc-In-A-Barrel catapult? It was a great idea, truly, or at least it was until he tried catching Griffons to act as trained orc catchers. Seems like they had a taste for gnome as well as hobgoblin."

"Gnome, be silent before I 'accidentally' target you in the midst of battle." the cleric standing beside the purple and cyan robed gnome raised her arms, whispering her words of divine magic as she called upon Shar for aid. Eruptions of flame poured out of the air itself, consuming two of the Githyanki before they could even decide on who to defend themselves from.

The group ensnared in the Githyanki's midst wasted no time in taking advantage; Minsc swung his axes and another Gith fell before striking a single blow. The one who held the Vorpal Sword hissed as he turned to the sorcerer before him, raising the blade high. Greywulf raised his staff to block, not knowing if it would be of any use at all before the might of the Vorpal Sword- the Githyanki's eyes widened as the tip of a sword pierced through his armor, jutting out his chest. Blood ran down the front of his armor as he fell to the ground, sinking to reveal a blonde-haired, blue-eyed man behind him, clad in studded leather and wielding two short swords. Greywulf grinned at the sight of Hendak's familiar face; no words were exchanged as they went into battle, striking down the remaining Gith with ease. The once unfavorable odds had switched sides, and it wasn't long before all their foes were dead.

Keldorn exhaled heavily as he sheathed his blade, glancing down at his pauldron. "Sir Keldorn! I trust you are unharmed?"

The accented tone brought a smile to Keldorn's face as he turned to one of the three who had descended the hill and joined the fray in earnest. "Squire Anomen... it is good to see you here. Your skills have improved, I see."

"Thank you, but it shall not be Squire for much longer. I am sure I shall be knighted soon. You were not among the campaign against the Hillgnasher giants but I slew four of them alone in battle." Anomen offered up, only the faintest hint of modesty in his tone. "But your words do me proud, nonetheless."

"That's Anomen, hmm?" Imoen murmured, sideling up to Keldorn as she gave the cleric a once over. "I think I preferred the alternate reality version of him."

Keldorn did not speak, though the faintest hint of a smirk could be seen creeping onto his face. Greywulf and Minsc stood with Hendak, the ranger embracing Hendak vigorously. "Hendak, yet again you have helped Minsc and Greywulf destroy those who are evil! Boo says you impress even him, and that is not an easy thing!"

"We appreciate the help, Hendak-" Greywulf began, before being cut off by a laugh from the drow woman who had finally descended from the hill alongside the gnome.

"Help? Call it for what it was, jaluk. A rescue. One which you desperately needed, from the looks of it." She smiled coyly, looking Greywulf up and down with her dark, flashing eyes. "Mmm... you've grown up quite a bit since we last crossed paths."

"Viconia. A pleasure to see you, as always." Jaheira smiled unkindly, nodding to the drow cleric. "On the run and in need of our protection once more?"

"Hardly!" she retorted. "Hendak should be able to tell you all about our interference in your predicament... and why you will find me beside this lot of surfacers. Not by preference, to say the least."

"Viccy, you wound me deeply." The gnome beside her put one hand over his heart as he tugged on his beard with the other. "This hurts almost as bad as the time when Cousin Josephine decided she'd rather go into business with that dwarf from the hills selling breaded golems. There I had a perfectly satisfactory arrangement to build the world's fastest turnip peeler, and she abandons me for some no-account dwarf with a fascination for flesh golems."

"Jan, I swear by Claggdin's hammer that if ye do'nae stop yer jabbering ye'll end up with me axe halfburied in your head. An' then I'll push it in the rest o' the way to make sure." A dwarf in full battle attire and wielding a broad, double headed axe growled at Jan, sneering as he gestured at the gnome. "But the drow be right about one thing. I only be in this because the innkeep here promised us a fair bit o' coin to come help him find ye. The bloodsport ain't half-bad, neither."

"Korgan, right?" Greywulf said with a forced smile. "I think we've met once... back in the Coronet."

"Korgan Bloodaxe; aye, we spoke." the dwarf sneered. "Yer addle-brained thief friend pick-pocketed me thrice over while he be drunken on my shoulder. Where's the sot? I owe him an axe to the gullet a'fore we leave."

"A bit late for that." Jaheira replied, looking back up at Hendak. "A motley crew you've assembled, Hendak. Why the sudden dash to our aid?"

"You left for the Keep almost three weeks ago... I became worried, and after everything that you had done for me, I could do nothing less than at least attempt to see if you were in danger. I would have been here sooner, but it took time to find and assemble those you see here." Hendak explained, gesturing to Viconia, Anomen, Jan and Korgan.

"Seems to me like you were right on time." Keldorn spoke with a nod of gratitude. "Nay, the Keep is safe and we were just heading back toward Athkatla. However, we seem to have made enemies of the Githyanki over the course of our travel. These ones saw fit to ambush us on the open plains. It was fortunate you came along when you did."

"Indeed." Anomen nodded, looking at the set of adventurers. "While I do not doubt your skill, Sir Keldorn, it seemed you were a bit overmatched. I can- pardon me, but is that a drow you travel with?"

Solaufein glared at the squire, but Keldorn arched an eyebrow, gesturing towards Viconia. "I might ask the same, Anomen. Do not judge too harshly. Solaufein aided us in our bid to escape the Underdark- he is a worthy companion, through and through."

The two drow exchanged glances, but said nothing. Hendak turned back to Greywulf, shaking his head in acceptance. "Nonetheless, it does me good to see you alive and well. It seems my concern was unwarranted- I should have known better than to lose faith in your skills. If you will permit, we shall all accompany you back to Athkatla."

"We'd welcome the company. If only to give me a break from this one-" he gestured toward Imoen but was nudged in the side by the thief-mage. Viconia sighed as she looked at the pair, placing one hand on Greywulf's arm as she continued her obvious and blatant flirtations. "Tell me jaluk, why do you continue to travel with such as these? I had hoped you would outgrow such childish companions. Perhaps you need Viconia to travel with you for a time, hmm? I could toughen you up a little, you know..."

"Greywulf is fine, thank you." Jaheira spoke, lifting Viconia's hand off Greywulf's arm. "As is his arm, and the rest of him. You can stop pawing at him now."

Aerie watched with amusement as Jaheira and Viconia exchanged further words- she leaned over toward Imoen who had excused herself from the argument. "And I thought my arguments with Jaheira were bad..."

Imoen laughed, then whirled to Aerie, shaking her head with a growing look of half-disbelief, half-amazement, as she began piecing things together. "Wait a second... you and Jaheira were arguing before... just like Jaheira and Viconia are arguing now... does that mean that Jaheira and Greywulf-?"

Aerie nodded with a chuckle, Imoen slapping her face with her hand. "And I missed all this? Gods, I feel depressed."

"Just to get our attention back on what's important..." Greywulf intoned loudly, enough to break up the escalating argument between the fuming Jaheira and smirking drow, "I have something of a proposition for all of you, should you be willing to listen."

"Does it involve the killin o' beasties and the acquiring of coin? If not then let me pass now and get back to me ale. I care little for glory or honor- never filled a dwarf's pocket, I says." Korgan rested his hands on the top of his axe, using the handle to support his posture.

"Gathering coin? I think we can make that happen. As for slaughtering things, most definitely." Greywulf smiled, watching the dwarf pick up interest as he listened. "There's a vampire coven underneath Athkatla. Four entrances, and we already have three groups lined up to assault it. The leader of the vampires, Bodhi... we've fought before. She's powerful, but adding your strength to the mix might just be enough to tip the balance in our favor. What say you?"

Hendak listened with a knit brow, snugging the swords he carried in their sheaths. "You know I shall not back away if you are in need. If these will follow, I shall lead them at your command."

"What be the payment for this wee task?" Korgan asked, scratching his bearded chin. "I likes the sound of it, but I'll not lend out me blood-letting talents for free."

"Whilst money may be all that you pursue, dwarf, I would be more than honored to take up arms in such a noble cause." Anomen declared, hefting his mace. "Lead the way, and I shall strike."

"Feh, if that be the case then I'll be happy to take your share of the loot." the dwarf spat on the ground, then looked back up at Greywulf expectantly. The sorcerer chuckled, surprisingly at ease with the dwarf's mercenary behavior. It was almost a relief to see someone's motives so outspoken, so unhidden. Money and blood- the dwarf was certainly easy to please.

"One thousand gold for each of you, up front. I trust that'll be enough?" Greywulf arched an eyebrow. Korgan's eyes lit up at the tidy sum as he checked the edge on his axe.

"Aye... that'll about do it. For that kind of gold I'll stick by the innkeep's side a while yet."

Jan sighed, fiddling with some oddly shaped gadget hanging on the side of his crossbow. "Well well, there comes a time in every gnome's life when he's made an offer he can't refuse. Like my old friend Plooty Paladin-Piper used to say..."

"Blast it gnome, be it yes or no!" Korgan roared, though it hardly seemed to faze Jan.

"Ummm... yes. I recently concocted a new batch of Jan Jansen's Flasher Master Bruiser Mates. I've been itching to try them out. Almost as much as my great grandfather Numwinkle Jansen when he tried to patent a Griffon catching formula. It didn't catch Griffons, but it did cause a mighty strong itch in unwelcome places. Used to trick all the young little gnomes in the family into trying it out."

"I'll take that as a yes." Greywulf sighed, before turning to the only non-committed member left. "Viconia?"

The drow cleric did not reply immediately... but after taking one more look at Jaheira's scowl, then leaned over to whisper in Greywulf's ear. "If it means Viconia can spend more time in your company, then I shall happily agree. And incidentally... you should keep a shorter leash on the druid there. She looks ready to burst."

The drow turned on her heel and stalked away, leaving Greywulf to clear his throat, then turn to Hendak with a slight blush on his face. "Ahem... I think that's everyone. I'll show you the map of the location we're attacking when we arrive in Athkatla. Until then, I suggest we get started moving- there's a lot to be done before we attack, and not a lot of time to do it in."

"Then let us depart! Adventure and glory await us, and it shall not be found wasting time here." Anomen declared, moving to stride back towards the city at lead. Keldorn sighed as he watched the squire, quickening his pace to speak with the man. Greywulf turned his head to answer a call that had come from Imoen, who was hefting the Vorpal Sword, taken off the Githyanki Hendak had slain. "You know, if the Githyanki are going to keep hunting us, then I don't see why we don't keep this as some extra protection. Could come in handy."

"I'm going to go out on a limb and say this is one of the worst decisions we've ever made." Greywulf sighed, taking the large blade from Imoen, then glanced at the others. "Still... Minsc has the Sword of Chaos and Keldorn has the Hallowed Redeemer- Solaufein?"

The drow eyed the Vorpal Sword and then took hold of the blade. He tested its weight, took a practice slice through the air, then nodded in satisfaction. "Let the Githyanki come and take their sword back... if they can."

Minsc grinned, looking with envy at Solaufein's new weapon as Greywulf waved them onward. The day was still young and despite their good fortune so far, they could not count on Tymora's blessing to carry them through the dangers they would soon be facing.

X X X X X X

Aveldar swallowed heavily as he nodded to the gate guards. They recognized his face easily and gave him a grim smile as he passed, allowing him passage into the Shadow Thief guild hall. He had returned from Bodhi's Graveyards earlier that night and was just now returning to his the guild. He had been given his last instruction from Bodhi- then, she promised, he would be free. For all the good it would do him. As soon as he had carried out her final instruction, he'd be dead and buried. He fingered the dagger he kept within his belt; the last blood he would have to shed for her would be that of Aran Linvail, guild master.

He walked as slow as he could force himself to, hoping for someone, anyone to stop him. Just one person to ask him why he had been so late in returning, where he had been, anything to expose his treachery and end his miserable existence. Nobody was forthcoming- nobody stood up to him and demanded an account of his doings. He was too experienced, too well known and far too trusted to be considered a traitor. _Too trusted, _he thought bitterly as someone tossed him a casual hello, a greeting he passed right back with the same cheer, every bit of it forced. It was all his fault, letting himself get caught on that last mission. Now Bodhi knew it all: the assault planned on her lair, the location and strength of the Shadow Thieves' positions… and to top it all off, she had possession of his body, mind and soul. His only hope was that Aran Linvail's lieutenants would grant him a quick death after he betrayed his leader. He could feel the sweat beginning to pour from his forehead as he silently headed towards the passage leading to Aran's personal quarters, where he undoubtedly conferred with his lieutenants over the coming attack even now. A younger member was assigned to guard the entrance; he recognized the man. He was one whom Aveldar had tutored when he had first joined the ranks of the Shadow Thieves.

"It's been a while since we spoke, ain't it? I assume you've got some business with the Shadow Master, eh?"

"Yes… Urgent, actually. If you could open the passage for me, I'd be much obliged." he grunted, hoping the boy would remember his training. Nobody got to see Aran unless it was an emergency, and even then someone should be announcing his arrival. No way he should be allowed to go unescorted, unannounced.

"Er, you know as well as I that I've got to have the proper authorization to see Linvail himself. But, seeing as how you're who ya are, and if it's really all that important…"

_No, you fool! Don't let me pass! Question! Stop me!_

"Eh, go on through, But you'll be closely watched, old man!" the young thief laughed, Aveldar able to do nothing but smile and nod as he kept moving, entering the inner passage to Aran Linvail's chambers, and to his own doom. As he trudged onward, the very sun began to set in the sky, bringing the power of darkness to a peak.

X X X X X X

"Is that it then?" Aerie asked Greywulf as the group left Cromwell's forge. Cromwell had surprised them, hiring several other apprentices with the money they had paid him last time, and was able to complete the job they had required of him in minimal time. By the sunset of the day, the Red Dragon Scale Armor was complete and the Equalizer was in their hands. The armor was worn by Keldorn, the fire resistant scales of Firkraag a worthy tribute to the paladin's family. The sword hung at Minsc's side, on the opposite side of the Sword of Chaos. With two axes, a long sword and a two-handed blade, most men would have found the sheer weight of so many weapons uncomfortable. Minsc merely grinned at having so many options on how to fight evil. Nary an eye passed them over as they kept moving through the Docks, but there was not a mugger or thug who would challenge them either.

Hendak had taken his crew back to the Coronet to study the map Greywulf had lent them, deciding on a battle plan and the best way to assault the Graveyards that night. Though he might not have said it, Greywulf could not help but feel guilty for placing the others into this kind of danger. Hendak would not be denied though, and Greywulf had no doubt that his forces would prove their worth in the battle to come. Finally, he turned to Aerie and answered her query. "Is what it?"

"Are we ready, I mean?" Aerie answered, her eyes tracing the lines of the street as they walked. "To take on Bodhi? We've talked to the Prelate of the Radiant Heart and a group of knights are set to attack from the third entrance to the crypts, Hendak and his group will attack from the fourth, the Shadow Thieves will hit the second one and we're taking the first. Cromwell has given us all the weapons we needed… this is what we've been waiting for."

"I know it's what I've been wanting." Imoen said with an impatient grimace, her bow in hand. "My soul's been in the hands of the blood-sucker long enough."

"Almost. We have one last thing to do, though. One more place to visit." He replied as they moved towards Waukeen's Promenade.

"Where are we headed, anyway?" Imoen frowned.

"To fulfill a promise I made to a friend." he exhaled, thinking of what was to come... and how difficult it would be for all of them.

As they entered, their destination was clear. The Temple of Ilmater was easy enough to find, and though many were inside, sick and awaiting healing, the head of the priests there approached, apparently sensing something great upon their hearts. Solaufein had elected to wait outside; this was not his affair, and he did not feel the need to intrude on this moment.

"Greetings, my brothers and sisters. Do you require the aid of the Crying God?"

"Aye, though it is of a… strange kind. We seek to intervene on behalf of one who has already passed beyond." Keldorn answered.

"Passed beyond? I fear we have no cleric here with enough power to resurrect from the grave…"

"No, that was not our intent. A friend, by the name of Yoshimo. He was forced into betraying his comrades by a Geas placed upon his soul. He asked for forgiveness, for his soul to be spared in the afterlife."

"Yoshimo…" the cleric said, thinking for a moment. "I think I know of the man you speak. He came here one night, a little more than a month ago."

"Right before we left for Spellhold." Aerie commented.

"He left some personal items after asking for a blessing and prayer… he said that if he did not return to claim the items he left then I was to give them to a group of adventurers who came inquiring about him. Strangely enough, he said I would recognize them by the hamster, whatever that means…"

Greywulf could not suppress a smile at Yoshimo's unique sense of humor; he motioned to Minsc, the ranger grinning broadly. Minsc proudly displayed Boo- the cleric frowned but nodded in acknowledgment. "I suppose... you are the ones he spoke of. I will retrieve his belongings for you."

He turned to a locked chest on the far side of the temple, unlocking it and removing a few items. He gave them to the group: a worn but still serviceable katana, a small medallion, and a journal.

"Perhaps before we attempt to take any action involving the afterlife and Yoshimo's final destination, you might read the journal and see what he had to say." the cleric remarked.

Greywulf nodded and said, "We'll return in a moment. Right outside if you should need us."

They slowly left, Jaheira opening the locket and frowning as she looked at the pictures inside. "Greywulf, the images inside this locket are familiar… both of them."

He glanced over and nodded. "The one on the left is definitely Yoshimo... albeit much younger. The girl on the other side- she does look familiar, but I can't seem to place her."

"The inscription below... am I reading that right?" Imoen frowned.

He read the small but visible writing on the bottom of the picture reading, _Brother and sister forever… To Yoshimo from Tamoko._

"Tamoko? Sarevok's girlfriend Tamoko?" Imoen queried.

"Yes… it is her, isn't it." Greywulf said hesitantly. "If she was Yoshimo's sister… perhaps his journal will tell us the rest of the story."

"Who is Tamoko?" Aerie asked, peering at the locket pictures.

"Tamoko was Sarevok's lover. She was with him the night… the night Gorion was killed." Greywulf explained quietly. "She did love him, in her own way. Loved him enough that she eventually saw the road his path was leading him on. She saw the madness he was devolving into and attempted to help him by helping us. She thought that if we could spoil his plans, it might bring him back to his senses, make him realize that the power he sought was not worth his soul."

"I guess it didn't work." Aerie replied, Minsc placing one hand on her shoulder as he shook his head solemnly.

"Her attempts failed and Sarevok eventually cast her out after learning how she had helped us. Once more in the Undercity of Baldur's Gate, right outside the Temple of Bhaal, Tamoko confronted us. She told us what had happened, and believed that the only way to win back Sarevok's love was by killing us. We were so close to coming to blows… but Dynaheir ended it. She persuaded Tamoko to turn from the battle, and leave Sarevok for good. Tamoko listened to Dynaheir's words, and eventually left us unharmed, letting us pass to fight Sarevok. We never saw Tamoko again, but I assumed she left the Gate altogether. I never dreamed she was Yoshimo's sister…" Greywulf murmured, flipping open the pages of the journal.

It was a leather bound book, filled with old and worn parchment that had been inscribed with ink for many years. The first pages were evidently from Yoshimo's younger years, some dating back to when he must have been a youth and scarcely out of his teens, but they soon detailed his older exploits. Much of it was still uninteresting, some notes on upcoming house burglaries, bounties he wanted to collect… then he came to something of note.

_Another "criminal" turned in today for the bounty on his head… not really worth my time, but it pays the bills. The jobs here have been rather slim as of late… I could probably use a change of scenery. The lack of work will dull my skills if I'm not careful. There must be some place that has enough jobs to keep me occupied between taverns. _

_Hmm. An idea, perhaps. Tamoko is currently residing in Baldur's Gate… and I haven't seen her in a few months. There is bound to be work in a city of activity such as the Gate. As a bonus, I can pay my sister a visit and see this man she's been talking about so much in her letters. I shall make ready to leave tomorrow._

_Ah, the city of Baldur's Gate… with all of its people and their accumulated wealth. This will be a fine place to stay, at least temporarily. I did some asking around, and Tamoko is currently staying at the headquarters of the Iron Throne, whose dealings are a bit shady even for me. Considering all the iron shortage problems in the Coast right now, I'm concerned for Tamoko's safety to tell the truth. She is most capable though, and I will see for myself tomorrow when I go and surprise her._

_Perhaps I have nothing to worry about after all. I met with Tamoko yesterday and all was well, just as I should have anticipated. She assures me that she is in no real danger, as the man she introduced me to, this Sarevok Anchev, he is also in fact the son of the Iron Throne's head. At least here in Baldur's Gate. If anybody will have enough protection for my sister, it'll be him. I even met the fellow briefly, though he was a bit… strange, to be quite honest. He had a manner about him, something that troubled me. His eyes were piercing… they seemed to glow with power that was more than charisma. Ah, the foolish notions of an overprotective brother, perhaps. Tamoko can take care of herself._

_The iron troubles have grown worse as of late. Reports of the Nashkel mines being flooded, Tamoko telling me that the Iron Throne Cloakwood mines were destroyed by unknown intruders… all my senses are telling me to get out of this place before the hammer falls on the Gate itself. I have made more than enough money off the nobles here to last me a while, at least to get me to another major city. Perhaps Athkatla, even though Amn is just as much a player in this iron war. Nonetheless, I do wish Tamoko would leave as well. She is just as stubborn as I remember though, and quite unwilling to leave Sarevok's side. There will be no convincing her otherwise, I can tell. I only hope she'll be all right._

_It appears I got out just in time. Baldur's Gate erupted into what sounded like an all out war after I left. A group of adventurers was reported to have taken on the Iron Throne itself, toppling it's business in Baldur's Gate and chasing Sarevok down in the catacombs of the city. So many different reports: Sarevok had gone insane, the Iron Throne was attempting to take over the city, doppelgangers and even Bhaalspawn roaming the streets of the Gate. I would ask Tamoko myself, but I have not heard from her since I left. Troublesome, but not unexpected. I am heading back though, just in case. Hopefully I can contact her once I arrive._

_I searched every tavern and asked every contact I could, but no word on Tamoko's whereabouts. It's possible she left the Gate entirely, but if so, I'll be hard pressed to locate her. Meanwhile, there was something of a celebration to honor the six mercenaries who took down Sarevok, who was apparently killed in the battle. I got a glimpse of them for future reference, just in case. Appeared to be standard mercs; I'm not quite sure what made them special enough to defeat the whole Iron Throne and Sarevok, whom I've heard was quite the warrior… but they were a diverse lot to be sure. A young pink haired girl whom I'm sure was a thief, a human mammoth of a man, two half-elf warriors, another human witch, and a half-elf wizard. I hear the wizard is the leader of the group, though I find it a bit hard to believe. It's obvious the warrior pair has more experience, but I will admit the boy has some air about him, something… almost akin to Sarevok, if an analogy were to be made. I began to wonder, if they were the ones who killed Sarevok… could they know of Tamoko's fate? Or if the worst has come to pass, could they be responsible? I may be clutching at straws here, but I will be watching._

Large drops of moisture have stained this particular part of the journal paper, distorting the ink a bit, though not enough to prevent reading. The pattern and look of it indicates Yoshimo was probably crying while writing these words.

_It's over… Tamoko is dead. One of the bartenders I had working on finding information for me recently learned of a number of deaths in the area, all people connected with the Iron Throne organization here in the Gate. There were several humans, many different sizes and shapes… and one small, female thief, of Kara-Tur origin. I saw her body myself. I failed her, and I will forever carry the burden of her death. She will be avenged, if it cost me my very life. I will find her killers and make them suffer as I suffer now. The Gate has nothing for me now, only an ache for vengeance. I have heard that the mercenaries who killed Sarevok have already left and are heading towards Nashkel. They killed Sarevok and destroyed the Iron Throne, as well as many of their associates. They must have done it… it must have been them. They will pay. _

_Finally, the opportunity I have longed for. A contact has informed me that a bounty has been placed on the heads of my prey, and wishes to meet with any prospective bounty hunters in the city of Athkatla. Only one man is requested for the job, and if this will give the advantage I need to avenge Tamoko's death, I will not waste it. Let the murderers flee to Nashkel, or anywhere on Faerun. I will find them._

_A strange twist in my hunt, though my goal has been met. I was indeed the first to arrive in response for the bounty call on my prey, and my employer was quick to meet me in the specified location. I expected anything of my employer: a simple businessman wishing to take revenge for the Iron Throne's destruction, perhaps a rival group of mercenaries who landed on the wrong side of this Greywulf, I didn't really care. What I found was so much more… this Irenicus, this wizard. He offered me the power to kill the ones who took Tamoko's life, to take my vengeance upon them. I asked what his reasons for wanting them were, and he only smiled, saying that to allow a Bhaalspawn to roam unchecked was an evil as great as my sisters' death. So the rumors are true. This Greywulf is a Bhaalspawn… and I have agreed to aid Irenicus in ridding the land of this filth. He did require something of me, however. A Geas to bind my soul, to ensure my obedience so that the magics and powers of the Bhaalspawn would not sway me from my cause. In this way, I would be steadfast in my commitment to Tamoko. I agreed without hesitation._

_My service has been bought, and though I am ready to hunt my prey, I have been informed that the Bhaalspawn has already been caught? What service is this? Irenicus told me that I was still needed, and would remain an important part of the plan. This Bhaalspawn is apparently of great interest to him. I hear screams coming from the dungeons below… despite the hatred I feel for them… I shudder at the sound. Explosions… the sounds of attackers, entering the fortress. Even as I write these words, I hear the sounds of the dead and dying. Battle is upon us._

_I take a great chance in writing this now, in the company of those I hunt, but my feelings must be poured out somehow or I should go mad. Irenicus assumed the Bhaalspawn might escape at some time… now comes the role I was meant to play in his plan, though it is less satisfactory to me. I have infiltrated the Bhaalspawn's group and they trust me… to a point. I should have to journey longer than a few days, I am sure, to gain their full trust, specifically the druid. Nevertheless, I am one of them. I can barely sleep aside them, the blood of Tamoko still on their hands. But I have been commanded to watch them, inform Irenicus of their whereabouts, their plans via magic. I argued initially, citing my vengeance… and then I felt the power of the Geas I swore. Perhaps I was a bit hasty in making that decision, though it will not matter in the end. Irenicus can play his games for now, but he has promised me that I will have their blood by the end. _

_Things are different than I had expected, to say the least. For a Bhaalspawn, Greywulf is not quite the bloodthirsty fiend I took him to be at first. He seems rather even-tempered, actually. A powerful mage to be sure and not somebody to trifle with, but I had expected something… darker, from a Bhaalspawn. Something like Sarevok. Aside from that, his party is not the group of wickedness and filth I had foreseen either. A ranger whose likeable madness is only matched by his desire for righteous battle, a circus elf who only wants to help, and a druid… well, Jaheira is something else. Greywulf though… he was willing to venture into a circus of unknown peril and illusions, all because a young boy asked us to help him find his mother. Then, he takes a young elf with us whose greatest desire is to do good and help others. This is not my idea of a Bhaalspawn. Very peculiar… I shall have to observe further. _

_Something… something is not right. This cannot be; it does not make sense. I have done everything in my power, used all my contacts to find out the former deeds of these travelers, hoping to find something, anything to justify my suspicions and vow of vengeance for Tamoko. Everything comes out wrong. They descended into an Ankheg nest just to find out what happened to a farmer's son. They brought his dead body back and gave him gold to help with the farm. They turned down a reward that the mayor of Nashkel offered them, mistaking them for a group of bounty hunters. We helped a young noble named Nalia reclaim her home from invading trolls. We shut down a slaving group in the Copper Coronet. This Bhaalspawn acts with a noble heart, nothing like who I would expect the killer of Tamoko to act like. I… don't know anymore. I don't._

_I have been a fool. The deception is clear; the villain is unmasked. One of the men I had hired to track down Tamoko's killer recently contacted me at the Copper Coronet with new information. He says the Iron Throne, the real Iron Throne, not the branch Sarevok controlled, was both infuriated and embarrassed with Sarevok's annihilation of their branch in Baldur's Gate. They placed a bounty on everyone of Sarevok's men and women who aided him in the organization. Sarevok himself. Angelo. Semaj. Tazok. Muhaley… Tamoko. It was them. They killed her, not this Greywulf, this Bhaalspawn. He has proven himself both good and true, calling me friend and accepting me as one of his own… as I prepare to slit his throat. Irenicus has lied to me this whole time, strung me along with false promises and deceptions. I will not sully my honor like this. I must tell him the truth._

_Greywulf, Jaheira, Minsc, Aerie, Keldorn… if you are reading this, then all my attempts at revealing Irenicus' plot, confessing my crimes against you, and finally telling the truth have failed, utterly and completely. I write these words tonight, knowing that we set sail for Spellhold tomorrow. I have tried so many times to confess my treachery, to break Irenicus' grip on me, but the Geas… it binds my soul, and every time I even think of warning you, my body feels as though it will tear itself apart. I never wanted it to come to this, but it has. I hated you; hated you before I even met you. My only desire was to see you pay for the death of Tamoko- a death you did not cause. I see that now. Before long you were my only friends in the world of enemies I had pledged myself to. I give this to the priest of Ilmater in Waukeen's Promenade, in the hopes that if you find it you will read and understand my plight. I pray you find Imoen and rescue her, and escape the trap Irenicus and Bodhi lay for you now. I ask your forgiveness... and may Ilmater forgive me as well for what I have done, and what I am about to do to you._

_Your unworthy friend, _

_Yoshimo_

Greywulf closed the journal after reading the last entry. No words needed to be said- each contemplated the tale in their own hearts and minds. He headed back into the temple, the others following behind. The priest watched them approach, expectancy in his eyes.

"So… you have read of Yoshimo's situation and I presume you know why he pleads for forgiveness in the afterlife; there is no need for me to know the details. This Geas you say he swore, it will bind him even in death, never allowing him the peace he desires. Ilmater's power can break that oath in death, but it must be done in a worthy manner. All of you- do you forgive this Yoshimo? His betrayal, his actions… do you forgive him?"

For a brief moment, nobody said a word. Finally, the noblest among them, the paladin with a pure heart, spoke his peace. "His motives were good, if misguided. He tried to do what was right, and by a weakness of will he failed. He deserves peace." Keldorn uttered grimly.

"It... it hurt to see him betray you all. But in the end, all he wanted was to avenge his sister. I probably would have done the same for Greywulf." Imoen smiled sadly, glancing at her own brother. "Yeah. Yeah, I forgive him."

"Minsc and Boo will miss our funny friend Yoshimo." Minsc sighed. "He was good at the butt-kicking of evil, except when he was on the evil side."

"I… I think I can forgive him." Aerie said, swallowing heavily as she tried to hold back a few tears.

"I said it before… he was a friend. All the way to the end." Greywulf nodded.

All eyes glanced at Jaheira, who had not yet said anything. She had made it plain on former occasions she held no sympathy for traitors, but the cleric did not seem satisfied until all had answered. Finally, she uncrossed her folded arms and spoke, though her eyes did not meet the priest's.

"Let Ilmater take him home."

The cleric nodded and bowed low. "As you have said it, it shall be done. I will intercede for Yoshimo, and Ilmater's power will see his soul restored. You have shown great mercy today. May Ilmater bless your journeys."

The group left the temple, memories of the oriental thief echoing in their minds. Solaufein joined them quickly, listening quietly as Minsc, Keldorn, Aerie and Imoen all shared a bit of reminiscing about the man. Up at front, Jaheira had dropped into step with Greywulf, the wizard smiling slightly, a burden lifted off his chest as they walked.

"I'm happy, Jaheira… happy you decided to forgive him. I know you didn't take it too well when we found out he was a traitor- neither did I. Still, I think he was a good man. I hope he gets the peace he wanted."

"Your unfathomable trust in human beings must be rubbing off on me." Jaheira remarked. "I think I have had a… a realization of sorts."

Jaheira's tone had turned serious, and so Greywulf listened intently, always happy when she decided to open up her usually reserved feelings to him. "I have been walking with my eyes downcast for so long, afraid to trust or believe in the goodness of those around us… I had forgotten the beauty of the land. After all we had seen, I had thought never to feel the warmth of nature again."

"You make me appreciate such things. I never appreciated a simple forest before you." Greywulf replied warmly.

"They are not simple forests, but ancient places in harmony for untold years. I have walked through many, but I had forgotten… how they stir my soul." Jaheira whispered, seemingly lost in the thought.

"It is the elf in you, and the druid." Greywulf nodded. "Culture and nature together in balance."

"Yes… yes, you are right. If the balance can be struck there, it can happen where I am willing. It was my calling as a druid and as a Harper. I had forgotten… I forgot that balance does not mean conformity, that equilibrium does not need to sacrifice variety. Dermin forgot that too. Difference does not have to be chaos."

Greywulf studied her face intently, then grinned mischievously. "You're beautiful when you have epiphanies, you know that?"

"This from the man who allowed Viconia to paw all over him without hesitation." she tossed out the rejoinder with ease, Greywulf conceding the point. "You've become an incorrigible flirt."

"I disagree." Greywulf shook his head with a faint smile. "The only reason I allowed it was to watch you get all flustered. Totally worth it."

Jaheira turned to him, arching one eyebrow... he winced as her hand rebounded off the back of his head. He rubbed it gingerly, before Jaheira caught his gaze, her expression nothing but serious once more. "Greywulf… I care for you. I have not always shown as such; I have not always believed it myself. I know my words may seem harsh on occasion, but my feelings are true just the same."

"I knew. I had faith you would come around in time." he said, taking her by the hand as he squeezed it softly.

"Perhaps this changes nothing, perhaps everything." she said, shaking her head. "I don't care anymore. My heart cannot have nature within and be ashamed as well. All I know is that… that I love you, Greywulf. I love you, with all my heart."

"I love you as well; I definitely prefer you with a smile." he said gently, even though his heart leapt for joy at finally, for the first time, hearing those words. "I should have camped us in a forest or grove months ago."

She raised her hand again, and Greywulf mentally prepared for the impact of her hand a second time- instead, she pulled his head down to hers, uncaring about who among the others was watching. This time, there was no Gaelan Bayle around to interrupt them.


	87. Part 3: Raising the Stakes

"Halt! What business do ye bring to the Shadow Master's door?" a gruff voice called out to Aveldar as he approached the final portal leading to Aran Linvail's quarters. The old spy looked up to the end of the dark hallway of stone and hardened rock. A burly, leather clad assassin approached him cautiously, one hand on his sword hilt as he came closer. Aveldar stopped and let the man come to him, studying his opponent in his last few moments of life. He was near forty with a shaved head, a long scar running down one cheek. His gait was fairly long and if his height was any indication, he had good reach in sword combat. There was no question as to why Linvail had chosen him as the final guard to his sanctum.

Aveldar's left hand stroked the dagger he held concealed under his cloak. Surprise would give him the advantage, nonetheless. Surely an aged spy could be no threat to such a massive, well trained assassin- his head pounded with every pump of blood his heart made, a heady rush of adrenaline and power as he felt Bodhi's will dominate his actions. He bowed to the guard, now but a few feet away, then ripped upwards with his dagger, swinging a short sword with his other hand. The guardian never had a chance to react. With the final guard dead and bleeding on the floor, Aveldar exhaled in relief, sheathing his dagger and sword, wiping the blood on the dead man's robes. His head popped up to fix on the steel door to Aran's room, watching for any sign that he had been discovered. Seconds of dead silence passed, nothing forthcoming from the door.

He stepped over the body of the guard, slowly pulling three edged disks from his belt, tucking them between the fingers of his right hand. Taking the dead man by the wrist, he pulled the body back down the hall to the last trap placed, pushing him just over the set location. He took one more breath, then slammed one foot down, setting the trap off. The floor opened wide in over twenty places down the hallway, consuming the body and Aveldar as well. It mattered little to Aveldar- he knew what was coming. In fact, he had helped build this chamber. His left arm swept out to grab the ledge strongly, his right tucked down and out of sight. A loud alarm ignited along with the trap; bells were shrilly sounding their tune throughout the hallway. He grunted, sweating and cursing with the effort of keeping himself alive, glancing down the hall toward Aran's quarters. He knew that the Shadow Master would already have his twin blades drawn, the other members of his bodyguard moving to position their bodies between him and the entrance. Mages, swordsmen and assassins, all ready to give their life for Linvail. He would have done the same… but he could not, not any longer. He had a new mistress, one who did not brook failure. Her shuddered, knowing what was to come, and then shouted. "Aran! Aran!! Help me!!"

There was no sound, but Aveldar knew Aran would recognize his voice. The young spies who had guessed about his longevity within the Shadow Thieves were right. He had been there longer than any other member... including Aran Linvail himself. He'd seen Aran's entrance into the guild, mentored him as the ambitious thief grew in power... if not for Aveldar, Aran very well might never have become the Shadow Master of Athkatla. If there was anybody Aran would move to rescue, anybody Linvail really, truly trusted... it would be him. It was what Aveldar counted on.

The steel doors opened slowly, two swordsmen and mages each stepping out and flanking the hallways quickly, searching for any sign of hostiles or vampire assassins. They made no move to aid Aveldar though, more concerned with any perceived threat to Aran's safety. Aveldar knew the drill for such situations. A Purge Invisibility spell had already been cast; a Purge Undead and a True Sight were probably in the works as well. Aran would only show himself when the guard was certain the area was secure, maybe not even then...

Linvail suddenly appeared in Aveldar's sight, striding out with both long swords drawn, his face tight with tension even as he quickly and carefully moved towards Aveldar. Without a word of warning, Aveldar's concealed hand whipped forward, flinging the hidden blades at blinding speed. Anguish broke over Aveldar's face as he attempted to kill Aran Linvail.

He heard gasps of shock and betrayal, from both behind him and before him. Rapidly increasing footfalls thudded down the hall behind him, the guard and probably the majority of assassins coming to their leader's aid after hearing the alarm. In front of him the sound of the flashing blades left a buzzing hum, cutting the air so swiftly and steadily. Aveldar's skill and aim was just as precise as in his youth. His eyes closed tightly, unwilling to watch even though he knew the sound, having heard it so many times in past missions. The scything noise of the small edges cutting into flesh and muscle, the gasp of surprise and shock each victim inevitably gave as they were made aware that their time on earth had expired. Each blade had found its mark: one lodged in the neck, one in the femoral artery, the other in the heart. The green cloak Aran wore was rapidly staining red, billowing out behind him as he fell backwards. All Aveldar could hear was the sound of the dual swords Aran carried falling from his grasp and clattering to the floor. He forced himself to look, vision blurring with the tears of his betrayal- Bodhi's presence cut into his mind again, amusement at his despair. "_You have done well, slave. I release you from my service…"_

The quiet cackle of her laughter, vicious and knowing as it faded from his mind, stained his very soul with its sound. Aran dead, by his hand… a sob of grief escaped his mouth even as he let go the grip he held to keep him from falling. Death was the only peace he would find; there would never be any amongst the living. The iron and wooden spikes below beckoned him with death, arms wide open to embrace his demise, and he welcomed the relief of suffering as well. Suddenly, the world halted. For a moment, confusion reigned in the spy's mind as he looked down, wondering if he was now merely a spirit and would see his body impaled on the spikes below. However, there was nothing below, the deadly points still glimmering below his dangling feet. His body slid upwards, pulled by the cloak he wore, and his head snapped upward to see the savior who had rescued him from sure death...

"No… no, it can't be…" Aveldar whimpered, raising a hand to ward off his rescuer as he was slid onto the floor. The grim visage of Aran Linvail knelt above him, gripping Aveldar by the collar as he picked up the long sword that was lying by the dead man. "You can't be alive!!"

The traps had shut, allowing the rest of the guard passage to their location; by this point a crowd had gathered and the general roar was for blood to be spilt. Arms were waving, swords brandished and daggers drawn, roars of surprise and anger echoing through the group as the bloodlust grew, all targeting the cowering form of Aveldar.

"Stop!" Aran Linvail's voice rang above all the clamor and commotion. Its potency, its authority managed to calm the seething mass of thieves, at least for the moment. He bent down and put the sword to Aveldar's chest, his jaw tight as he ground out his questions. "Why did you betray me?! Why did you try to kill me!!"

"But… but you are dead… I did kill you!" he cried out, staring at the body on the floor.

Aran glanced back at the man wearing in his customary cloak and robes. He spared no more than a moment's look at the double who wore his face; a final precaution Aran had made that nobody but his most trusted bodyguards knew of. "It doesn't matter…" he growled, pushing his sword to the man's neck now. "Why?!"

"B-Bodhi… she captured me, made me serve…" his body sagged in Aran's grip, the strain rapidly destroying what was left of his mind and sanity. "I'm sorry…"

"She dominated you… what did you tell her? Speak!"

"She wanted... to know about the building, our defenses… our weaknesses, Greywulf and his mercenaries… all of it."

"And what of the attack tonight? What of Arkanis and his forces?" Aran shook him harder, a sinking feeling in his stomach as he dreaded the answer he instinctively knew was coming-

"I…everything!"

His blood chilled; if she knew that Greywulf and Arkanis were both striking tonight… "Contact Arkanis' mages!" he shouted to the wizards who had been in the room with him beforehand. "Call the attack off! Get them out of there now!"

Terse seconds passed, the only sound in the room the nervous breathing and the whimpering of a broken man as the mages reached out with magic, trying to stop Arkanis before it was too late. "He's too far in." one mage finally reported in alarm. "They must have entered the crypts; the magical wards prevent us from contacting him."

"If Arkanis and his elites go down…" someone in the mass of thieves had muttered it, but it was the same sentiment shared by all around. Arkanis was the best they had; if he failed tonight, it was all over.

"That's it then." Aran said grimly, pulling his bloodstained cloak from the man who lay facedown, dead by Aveldar's hands. "We move now, all of us. Gather all our strength and march on the Graveyard crypts. No matter what, it ends tonight."

The simple words echoed through his men, and there was soon a rally cry through the ranks as they all swept to their weapons and armor, readying themselves for the end. Aran stepped with them, taking up his other long sword and sheaths, strapping them to his belt alongside the few magical protective trinkets he still wore. Before he could leave, one of his bodyguards called.

"What about him, Aran? What do we do with the spy?"

Linvail looked down at Aveldar, curled up on the floor in blood and tears as he wept silently. Aran genuinely regretted seeing Aveldar betray him; the man was one of the few Aran actually had trusted in his organization. He had never imagined a betrayal from him... the fact that it came at such a crucial time made it all the more painful. It had been Bodhi's doing, of course. Aveldar would never have willingly done in Aran this way. Still… if it had been Aran who opened the door; if Aran hadn't insisted on taking that last step of caution…

"Sir?" the guard had his sword unsheathed and pointed at Aveldar, awaiting Linvail's command.

Aran was silent for a moment longer, then turned and stalked away, joining the rest of the men to prepare for battle. "He is a traitor. Execute him."

X X X X X X

Familiar echoes of dust and night air, the twilight of the Graveyards was a thing to be feared as the seven companions moved deeper into the district's boundaries. They had avoided any vampire or similar undead sentries so far. If all was going as planned, the Shadow Thieves, Hendak's group and the Order of the Radiant Heart would all be moving in as well. Four separate entries into the crypts, four different assaults planned. They avoided any torchlight, staying hidden in the darkest shadows available to them as they crept past the multiple mausoleums and tombs. Everybody had their weapon unsheathed or drawn and senses were alert to the smallest of noises or movements.

Off in the distance, a faint sound of metallic shifting could be heard, clattering against rock as it descended and faded from earshot. The knights of the Radiant Heart were entering the crypts from their point; Hendak and his companions were most likely already inside, by Keldorn's guess. Arkanis' men were assigned to move in as soon as they entered the district, so they would be inside as well. All was as it should have been… and yet, Greywulf felt uneasy. Not simply worry, that was always present before each battle. Fear of the unknown, fear of how a fight might take a bad turn, it was constant and separate, pushed away and compartmentalized; only released when all was done and finished. This was different… somehow. A foreboding, a darkness settling into the pit of his stomach and resting there, churning his emotions and senses, giving him a bad feeling about the whole mission in general.

Aerie must have noticed the disturbed grimace Greywulf wore; she gave him a tiny smile in the midst of the darkness they stalked through. Whatever else, Aerie's face was still radiant enough to restore some semblance of courage to his mind as they kept moving. They kept moving, unwilling to stop for fear of being discovered until they reached the outer entrance to a crypt that would lead downward to the Kensai clan mausoleums, the fourth entrance that was yet unclaimed. Greywulf paused, watching the darkened stairway that would bring them to Bodhi's lair. The sense of danger he felt was growing stronger; the little voice in his head screaming that it… something was close.

He took a step backward, his head just beginning to turn to Keldorn, but the older man's murmur was ahead of him. "I sense it too. Evil is near… and it knows we're here."

Almost as if in response to Keldorn's words, a gust of terrible chill and wind rushed out of the stairwell, an unnatural fog and smoke following in its wake. The cloud was dark, as though possessed by some evil specter. Its outside was cool and gray like a true fog of nature but its insides were blackened and dead, a sure sign of the evil that was bringing itself to bear. The wind tore them back again, almost deafening as it screeched past their ears. Greywulf motioned to the others amidst the chaos, summoning them out from their position of safety and surveillance. The fog of darkness seemed drawn to them, moving to encircle them and enshroud them in its evil.

Fright threatened to overwhelm them as the power of the unknown continued to wrap itself about them, but nerves calmed a thousand fold as the words to a Resist Fear spell were chanted, Imoen already taking action against any possible enchantments of emotion. Aerie glanced about, assuring that all were prepared for battle; she lifted one hand, chanting harder and faster as flares of light spat upward from her palm, blazing brightly in the night. Even as they began their slow descent downward, they flashed again, unleashing their true power. The adventurers hid their eyes, the magic of a False Dawn breaking through the mist. White light shone about, cutting jagged holes through the fog- it could be likened to screams that issued from the darkness as it was driven back by the intensity of the light conjured forth.

Steam rose from the ground as all the dissipated fog and smoke collected back towards the entrance, separating neatly into six different, smaller forms. Greywulf allowed himself a grim smile, the nature and identity of their assailants becoming clear. Each cloud of darkness became solid, sliding into the forms so familiar to the adventurers, vampires, creatures of the night and masters of the undead. Bodhi stood in front, flanked by the other five creatures. All seemed to be affected by the blast of light Aerie had summoned, the effects varying. Bodhi, as expected, had the barest traces of weakness, though one of the others looked as though he was having trouble maintaining a corporeal form. Nonetheless, Bodhi was still as strong as they had remembered- her fire, her ferocity had lost none of its potency.

"Well played... I see you've come prepared." Bodhi sneered as she stalked back and forth, venom dripping from her tone as her eyes fixed on Greywulf. "You are becoming an impressive pest, one I am finding difficult to ignore. Honestly, I simply don't know what to do with you. I am rapidly growing tired of seeing you in my shadow."

"I wasn't the one who fled from our last encounter, Bodhi." Greywulf retorted, though the edge to his voice contained the familiar taunting tone of his wit. "Sorry if I… scared you. _Boo_."

Bodhi barked a laugh, shaking her head in disdain. "Not in the least, foolish boy. Your abilities as the Slayer do not worry me… you are far too much of a 'hero' to use them in battle, now that you have gained control of yourself."

"Don't be so sure. I'm half-tempted to go psycho-demon on your undead ass and I'm not even the one whose soul you snatched." he replied calmly.

Imoen raised a hand, lightning crackling between her fingers as she held her spell in the palm of her hand. "Just try and move, Bodhi." Imoen spat. "Please."

"You still don't understand, either of you." she rolled her eyes, unfazed by Imoen's words or fury. "You think that by following me you will gain Imoen's soul back. I tell you now that if you continue to follow you will lose so much more. Take… Jaheira, for example."

Bodhi locked eyes with the druid, and for a moment Greywulf felt his calm slip- her vicious look of triumph suggested something far deeper than a simple taunt, or a spur-of-the-moment threat. "It would be a shame for such newfound lovers to be separated so early in their relationship."

"I do not fear losing Greywulf to you, demon." Jaheira snarled- if she saw what Greywulf had, she did not show it. Her anger however, was well displayed on all fronts. "He is more than capable of defending himself from the likes of you."

"Perhaps... but does he fear losing you?" Bodhi snapped, her body tensing as the point of no return rapidly approached, tempers, spells and swords about to fly. "We shall find out. Yes, I think we will. Follow Irenicus no more, Greywulf, or prepare to lose everything you hold dear!"

Imoen's bolt of lightning arced right where Bodhi had been a second ago, but was now wheeling through the air, landing in a crouch from her backflip. She hissed, and the other vampires flanking her moved forward, hurling themselves at their foes. Imoen tried to conjure another spell to attack Bodhi, but she had already vanished into the crypts below, leaving them to fight among her servants. Imoen adjusted her aim to incinerate one of the remaining vampires, its flesh and bone turning to ash with her magics. Its spirit floated back to the coffins downstairs, even as Imoen ducked from a claw strike, unleashing her bow as she attempted to gain some room for her weapon to strike true. Battle was fierce and pitched at a scale only put forth when both parties have nothing left to lose. Claws met blades, magics seared undead flesh, and blood stained the ground red as wounds were bore with the determination of true heroes.

Just when the battle seemed to have been won, albeit paid for with many wounds, a shout of alarm came from Aerie. Minsc whirled to see numerous skeletons and zombies, as well as a group of three more vampires engaging them from behind. Aerie had drawn the Flail of Ages in time and had smashed nearly four of the lesser undead fiends with its power, but she had been in the far back and was at least a dozen feet away from any party support. Minsc's already quick battle charge was empowered by a Haste spell provided by Greywulf, the ranger landing in front of Aerie in time to cleave a vampire down with the Sword of Chaos, its edge decapitating the Nosferatu with ease.

Greywulf cursed as the group's counter offensive abruptly turned to a defensive posture, circled in a manner vaguely reminiscent of their initial defense when confronted and captured by the Shadow Thieves for Irenicus. The whole fog attack, the verbal sparring and taunting Bodhi had done initially, all of it nothing more than a ruse to keep their attention focused on her rather than the undead creeping from behind. Her comment about Jaheira and himself had certainly riled him... Jaheira...

His head whirled as he checked the group fighting, his hands and mouth moving as if on autopilot as he continued to smite the evil before him, though the implications of what she had said rung in his mind. He was wrong; there was one key difference from this battle and the one they had lost to the Shadow Thieves. Back then it had been six of them against the world: here there should have been seven. There wasn't.

"Jaheira!!" he screamed, shouting a string of words of power, ripping the life from the vampires and undead in his path with the most destructive magics he knew, pushing towards the stairwell Bodhi had disappeared down.

"Greywulf! Hold on!" Keldorn's voice barely registered in his ears, his mind deadened to all but trying to find Jaheira. He kept moving, pushing and whirling his quarterstaff, knocking aside the foes in his way… a rusted blade wielded by a mighty Skeleton Warrior came across into view, a decapitating swing if it were allowed to collide. Another blade moved into blocking position, the Hallowed Redeemer swinging from the side to parry and riposte, clashing against the undead creature's breastplate. The paladin grunted with effort to keep his opponent's sword down, but a Bolt of Glory from Aerie shattered the monster before it could free its weapon. It was the last of their foes, all the others had been slain in the time passed. Keldorn grabbed Greywulf's cloak, yanking him back from his blind charge.

"Think! You almost got yourself killed in your madness!" Keldorn shouted, trying to bring the mage back to his senses. "What's wrong?!"

"Jaheira! She's gone, can't you see that?" Greywulf shouted back, still pulling to be released.

The others whirled about, not seeing until then what Greywulf had sensed in battle. It was clear though, only six stood among them now.

"The group who flanked us to begin with, they must have grabbed Jaheira before actually attacking the rest of us." Imoen said breathlessly.

"I know how much you care about her, Greywulf… but if you don't consider your actions, you'll not be alive to save her. Stay calm… with any luck, the other three groups have made it in uninhibited." Keldorn said with a grimace, slowly letting the wizard go.

"Er… Boo says you should look." Minsc grunted, hefting the Vorpal Sword to attack position again.

The five remaining warriors turned to where Minsc was gazing, out into the darkness behind them, the rest of the Graveyard enshrouded in night and fog. The sound of groans, shuffling feet and clattering bones was slowly becoming clearer and the sight of hordes of undead soon came into view.

"Go. Into the crypts… Now!!" Keldorn shouted, staying at the tail end, closest to the approaching undead army, the other four ducking down the stairwell as Keldorn backed up with them. Once all were passed beyond the door portal, Keldorn, Minsc and Solaufein shoved the cement block that passed for a door back into place, the effort enormous but possible with their combined strength. It was just in time; as soon as the rocks touched the sound of bones pushing and fingering the impediment was audible behind the blockade.

"Do you think they'll be able to get through?" Imoen asked, glancing nervously at the closed portal. "I doubt we really need an army of undead chasing us from behind with vampires in front."

"It won't matter… they'll take the other three routes fairly soon. Hopefully the rest of the groups are safe. If Bodhi was expecting us… there's no telling if they made it in safely either." Keldorn said grimly. He turned to Greywulf, who was already starting down the passage, taking him by the shoulder as the wizard's worried expression turned to him. "Greywulf… we'll get her back. Don't worry."

Greywulf's eyes met his for a brief moment, the usual confidence and strength present in his gaze replaced with anger and fear. "And what," Greywulf whispered, "If we don't?"

Keldorn had no answer to give.

X X X X X X

"They're here. Time to move." Arkanis whispered, the assassins behind him needing no further signal. They were a dozen strong; with one final gesture they moved in perfect silence and shadow, sweeping ahead toward the entrance to the crypts ahead. Yachmoto was at their rear, watching for any ambushes toward their flank, Arkanis at the head. They had just received word that Greywulf had arrived; the time was now. They had encountered no resistance upon entering the Graveyards and still none as they opened the heavy portal leading underground to the Kensai crypts. He had heard there would be two other groups aside from Greywulf coming in; while he was in the dark about one group, the other was most certainly knights of the Order. If all went as planned, the four groups would meet in the intersection that led to the final sanctum of Bodhi.

There was no more time for planning or introspection- their path was before them, the staircase leading down lit by a few dim torches. Arkanis raised a hand, halting the advance of his men. He knelt, looking for hidden traps or wires; his patience was rewarded as he disarmed trap after trap, their progress little more than a snail's pace as he ensured their safety. In time they reached a small landing before the next flight of stairs headed down. Even as they reached it, Yachmoto had joined him at the head, taking him by the shoulder. "Arkanis… this is too simple. Something is wrong here."

"Perhaps… her attention could be on Greywulf and the others… but I agree. We should have encountered some manner of guard by now. Ready the others for battle."

As Yachmoto passed along the word and sent the thieves drawing their blades, a hiss from the darkness before them drew all attention to the stairs. A cloaked figure bearing a katana strode upwards, leather clad and wearing the garb of the Shadow Thieves. Behind the cloaked rogue were a score of vampires. Arkanis' men immediately moved to ready position, anticipating the bloodrush charge- but it did not come. The cloaked and hooded figure laughed, an empty sounding chuckle. "Arkanis… how predictable. You're growing soft."

Arkanis' eyes flashed, recognizing the voice. "Kachiko?"

The figure unhooded herself, revealing the pale face of a female thief, skin ashen and gray as the vampires she was surrounded with. She smiled, her fangs erasing any doubt over her nature. Kachiko had been one of the few members of Arkanis' elite team who had fallen in battle to the vampires. Her body had not been recovered, and Bodhi had apparently made good use of her. "Did you really think you could get this far without my mistress knowing? That your stealth was really so potent? She knew; she knew of you and of Greywulf. He is being dealt with as we speak… I have been given the honor of dispatching you."

"How-?" Arkanis began in surprise, but she cut him off with her mocking laughter, tsking softly.

"How? Aveldar, of course. He belongs to Bodhi as well. It is by hand that your master, the invincible, untouchable Aran Linvail, now lies dead… assassinated at Aveldar's hands." she laughed.

"You lie." Yachmoto hissed, raising his blade before Arkanis raised a hand, keeping him from moving forward rashly.

"Why should I lie when the truth is so much more painful?" she shrugged, swinging her katana up and down once as though testing its weight. Arkanis' eyes narrowed… it was her pre-battle routine she had always done right before combat, testing the weight of her katana to assure herself of its potency. "Aran Linvail is dead, and you will join him… you are not worthy of becoming my mistress' servant."

The time for words was over- the vampires charge finally came, just as expected. The sound of colliding bodies and grunts of pain resounded through the landing, blades flashing to defend and attack from the undead onslaught. Arkanis had met Kachiko head on, her lunge easily blocked by Arkanis' own weapon. They circled once, her lips spread in a thin smile, mocking in her gaze. His blade flashed left and then right, both times colliding and bouncing off Kachiko's lightning quick parries. She followed up with her own attack, his dodge just slow enough for her weapon to catch the cloak of Fire Resistance he wore, shredding it across the back.

Her feral grin broadened as the cut piece fluttered between them, just before she attacked once more. A downward swing blocked high and shunted to the side gave Arkanis room for an elbow thrust to the face, Kachiko falling back a bit with the blow. Arkanis did not let up, continuing to whirl with fury and skill, relentless in his attacks on the vampire thief. Blow after blow slammed down onto her defensive posture, Arkanis working in a grim determination not to fail. He allowed himself a tight grimace as he saw one of his men fall to a triple team by three vampires, but there had already been a number of casualties to the undead.

"You were once part of my team, Kachiko… you know your vampires won't last against them." Arkanis spat as he pressed hard, slamming her against the wall as their blades clashed, their strength fighting for supremacy.

She grunted once as the blades drew closer to her chest, but with a mighty push, her undead strength began to overwhelm him, pushing him back. She gloated as their blade lock turned in her favor, "Fool… I was indeed one of your weaklings, once. I know my kindred will fall to their might… but it makes no difference. We will regenerate in our coffins, but you… you will die."

Arkanis slipped his katana out of the lock and underneath, her forward momentum carrying Kachiko off balance and past him. His blade swung around and caught her across the back, tearing deep into her flesh. She shrieked as she tumbled forward, rolling off to slam against the wall, away from the general fighting. He strode over to the moaning vampire, cutting down a fledgling vampire that attempted to stop him, quickly at her side. She was weakened and almost unable to move- her form trembled, just strong enough to maintain integrity. Her fluttering eyes widened as she saw him kneel beside her, drawing a stake from his belt. She never had a chance to scream.

He stood, brushing the thin layer of dust that her body had left on him as it had crumbled. Looking back, there were only a few undead creatures left standing, most of them wilting under attack by two or three of the team. Several clouds of vapor, remnants of the vampires they had destroyed, were floating back down the staircase, heading for their coffins to recuperate. Despite surviving the ambush, Arkanis couldn't help but cringe at the losses they had taken. Four of his team were dead, several others wounded badly. Yachmoto strode over, breathless after the exertions of the battle.

"Arkanis… we have driven the rest off, but those who fell to the vampires…"

Arkanis did not say anything for a moment, then shut his eyes and nodded. "Do it."

Yachmoto returned the nod and gestured to the assassins by the corpses. With the sound of four flashing blades, the heads of those killed by the vampires were severed, preventing any chance of them coming back as Kachiko had done. A dishonorable state, and not a duty he ever relished, but it had to be done if they were to keep the vampires' ranks from swelling with the best they had to offer.

"Dress the wounds and get ready to move." Arkanis said to the others, the remaining assassins following orders quickly.

"We're lucky we survived the ambush." Yachmoto grunted, wrapping a cloth around a nasty looking gash on his left arm. "Anything more than that and we might have failed. I wouldn't doubt Greywulf and his crew have encountered something much the same."

"True, but she didn't mention the other two groups coming. They might still be safe." Arkanis began, but he suddenly whipped around, drawing his katana to ready position as he gazed at the stairs they had descended initially.

"What's wrong?" Yachmoto asked, all the assassins left noticing and drawing blades to face that direction as well.

Arkanis said nothing, merely listened intently, his sharp eyes locked on the portal above. He could have sworn he heard a clattering, the sound of bones and rotting feet shuffling near the top of the stair…tense moments passed, and nothing was said, until finally, Arkanis slowly turned away and muttered, "Nothing… it was nothing. Let's get moving."

X X X X X X

Bodhi flinched despite herself, Jaheira lunging at her even though her hands could come no closer to Bodhi's throat than the shackles would allow. The vampire really had no reason to fear Jaheira; her minions had taken her armor and weaponry and stashed it far out of reach, even if she were to escape her chains. There was nothing she could possibly do to harm Bodhi… but her force of will was just that impressive. If stares could kill, Jaheira's icy glare would have wiped out everyone in the room. Fortunately for Bodhi, it was not the case; both the Shadow Thieves and Greywulf's company were on the way, pursued by the army of undead she had been preparing for this precise moment. They would still have to fight her contingent of vampire guards, giving the slower skeletons and wraiths the time to catch up with the invaders.

She couldn't resist smiling at the thought, knowing that final victory was assured. Irenicus was so close to the power he needed, she had Athkatla and the former owners of the souls she and Irenicus now possessed in hand; all was falling into place as they had predicted. Something bothered her though… Bodhi's smile was replaced by a frown as she noticed what exactly was perturbing her. Jaheira's face still radiated anger and righteous fury but her mouth bore a thin, tight lipped smirk, a knowing smile of confidence and self-assuredness.

Bodhi strode over to Jaheira and slapped the druid soundly, her head snapping to the side as Bodhi snarled at her, "Your confidence is misplaced… do you really believe your friends, your _lover_, will come in time to see you safely returned? I knew of your coming long before your feeble attempts at an attack took place."

"You underestimate their resolve." Jaheira retorted, turning back to face Bodhi, even though a trickle of blood came from her lip, split where Bodhi's nail had raked it. "Many have boasted of defeating Greywulf. They're dead now. Just like you, vampire. No matter what happens to me or even Greywulf… nature will finally claim what is long since owed."

"You think you're so clever, don't you?" she purred to Jaheira, turning away as she spoke. "You don't think I also know about the Shadow Thieves' assault? A two-pronged attack on my lair that will ultimately come to nothing. Linvail is dead and his men are doomed as well. The souls of the Bhaalspawn will give me the power I have desired! I will be immortal!"

"Do you truly seek the Throne of Bhaal? To become the Mistress of Murder alongside Irenicus?" Jaheira spat. "You must know that there can never be three that share the Throne; not even two. There can be only one Lord of Murder, and his name is Bhaal. He will not share his power with you or Irenicus..."

"Bhaal is dead, his power is there for the taking for those with the will!" Bodhi hissed, whirling and grabbing Jaheira by the face, gripping her tightly before pushing her head away roughly. "This was never about the Throne of Bhaal to begin with, fool! Bhaal's realm can remain unfilled for all eternity, and neither Irenicus or I would care! This is about the power, druid. A power your pathetic mind could not comprehend. It is about immortality, surpassing the realm of death that you mortals face every day… the realm you face right now."

Jaheira shook her head, Bodhi almost drunk in her own exultation. The druid's voice shocked her out of it, breaking through her clouded thoughts. "And what, vampire, will you do with that immortality?"

"What?" Bodhi hissed, glaring at the captive woman.

"Why do you desire immortality? What do you hope to gain for it?" Jaheira asked quietly. "What can you possess that will take all time to find, to capture? If you should gain all that you hope for, if you should see all the ages of the world pass you by, and gain the power to crush any foe before you, what have you gained in the end? Gold? It is fleeting, a wisp of cloud in nature's midst. Power, to rule others? Others perish, but you will remain. You will lose all those who might bring you satisfaction, for your only companions through eternity will be the undead servants who obey without feeling. There could only be one reason for your desire, for your lust. You are afraid, demon."

"I fear nobody, insolent bitch!" Bodhi screamed, violently pushing her hand against Jaheira's face, hard against the wall, though it could not drown out Jaheira's mocking laughter.

"You are, Bodhi… you are afraid. You have seen and tasted what awaits you, the Abyssal torment that will come when nature finally claims your soul." Jaheira replied with a knowing, harsh tone. "Your Undeath has stripped you even further from any redemption you could possibly have had. You know that someday, somebody will drive that icy stake of death through your blackened heart… with no soul of your own, you will be forever condemned to an eternity of nothingness. No light, no warmth, no relief… you would pray for an end, but it will never come."

Jaheira fell silent for a moment, the only sound in the room that of Bodhi hissing, as though trying to come up with some insult, some words to fling back in Jaheira's face, but nothing would come. The two women remained in the same position for almost a minute, never moving, the silence hanging in the air so thick it was palpable. When it was finally interrupted by a fledgling vampire, running through and bowing at Bodhi's feet, it was a noisy disturbance, unfitting for the battle of wills the two women were engaged in. Nevertheless, it took Bodhi's attention and she turned to glare contemptuously, scowling at the creature bowing before her.

"What news do you bring, slave? News of the invaders, perhaps? Do the catacombs and halls of these crypts run red with their spilt blood?" her tone was lessened slightly, grinning maliciously at Jaheira as she spoke.

"No, mistress… I bring dark tidings. We are under assault by more than the Shadow Thieves and the Bhaalspawn." he hissed to her, his fear of retribution evident in his voice.

Bodhi's eyes widened a bit, her face growing tight with new tension. "Speak quickly, slave… do not make me destroy you myself."

"The other two entrances are under assault- one group is another band of mercenaries; the other is dressed and fights like Knights of the Radiant Heart."

"Then why are you here?!" she screamed, grabbing him and yanking him to his feet. "Join the battle! Drench the tombs in their blood and bring it to me to drink!"

The vampire fled her rage, Bodhi turning from Jaheira as she ran one hand over her face. She had not expected this; four assaults. Her forces were enough to hold two groups off long enough for the undead army to catch up, but if she did not split those delaying forces they would reach her before the army could get to them. "This isn't how it was supposed to be… it's not…" Bodhi murmured frantically, pacing slowly as she tried to come up with some way of revising her strategy. Hiding in these dead-end tombs was supposed to be a trap for Greywulf, not for her...

"Do you feel it coming, Bodhi? Do you feel the end nearing you at long last?" Jaheira mocked, her spirit unwilling to give.

Bodhi stalked back over, putting her face inches from Jaheira's. To Bodhi's credit, the contemptuous smile Jaheira had fixed began fading until the two were but glaring once more. Finally, Bodhi spoke. "I was going to kill you… I was going to have your body torn limb from limb so that I could spread your tattered remains out for Greywulf to see, his reward for reaching my lair. But I have something better for you now. You accuse me of being afraid, of fearing the icy hand of Undeath and the nothingness it brings, engulfing me forever as I die a vampire. Perhaps I am afraid, Jaheira. Perhaps you are right, and that is the reason I seek immortality."

Jaheira's face showed the first glimpse of fear as Bodhi's head moved over to her neck, her fangs bared as she whispered to Jaheira. "Perhaps we shall see just how much you fear that fate too…"


	88. Part 3: Till Death Do Us Part

_Author's Note: Just to make sure this gets out there, a big thank you to all the people who have reviewed without accounts, or anonymously. Your words are much appreciated! The same to everyone else- and with that note... let the angst and action begin._

In such a dangerous, vampire infested crypt such as the Kensai tombs, it could be theorized that death was literally around every corner. Traps, zombies, skeletons and mummies all haunted these once sacred catacombs. Still, those with courage sufficient to brave the descent into darkness were united in their purpose, the destruction and death of the vampire mistress below. The unspeakable evil of Bodhi, having haunted the streets and the nights of Athkatla for too long. Paladins, assassins, mercenaries and more, all focused themselves upon the final and total annihilation of the Nosferatu who commanded her armies of the night. Surely she could not stand against the might of the Shadow Thieves, the Radiant Heart, as well as the hired mercenaries of Hendak, all unified in their purpose- the only trouble lay in the actual process of bringing about such so-called 'unified purpose.'

The glint of steel in the torches that lined the dusty, cobweb ridden walls shone all around as Eric VanStraaten, leader of the Knights of the Radiant Heart, held his blade at guard, opposite Arkanis and his men. "You'll keep your distance if you know what's good for you, thief. Count yourselves fortunate there are worse evils than your own here."

"Save your threats, paladin." Yachmoto growled, tightening his grip on the katana he held. "This is the business of the Shadow Thieves and does not concern you. Go back to your Order House and pray we do not meet in battle."

"Yachmoto…" Arkanis shot his fellow assassin a grim look, trying to defuse the situation if only a little. "Despite their allegiances, they may yet be of use here."

"Do you dare to refer to us as naught more than tools or shields for your own cowardly hides?" one of the knights behind VanStraaten asked in outrage, pointing his long sword at Arkanis. The assassin's eyes narrowed, and for a moment it looked like tempers had reached the boiling point.

Two muscular arms were raised, hands pushing both Arkanis and VanStraaten away from one another. Hendak glared at both of them, shaking his head. "We cannot afford a war amongst ourselves. We have all been called here for the same purpose."

"Speak for yourself, inn-master." Korgan sneered, hefting his double-bladed axe as he looked up at the two sides. "Let 'em take the fight out o' each other. I'll be happy to clean up the mess."

Anomen gritted his teeth at the dwarf's words- he opened his mouth to speak but Eric beat him to the punch. "You, dwarf, are naught more than a blood-thirsty mercenary. And as for you, sir, I shall not move a muscle forward until I have the wizard's word that these assassins won't stab us in the back when the fighting starts."

"You're all heart, paladin." Yachmoto sneered, spitting at the feet of Eric. "Such faith in the human spirit. At least the dwarf is honest enough about his motives."

Hendak stepped in once more, this time putting his own considerable bulk in between the two groups. His blue eyes were piercing as he caught both of their gazes, his head turning back and forth to ensure their inaction. "Calm yourselves... Greywulf will arrive soon. Until then, infighting will only aid the vampires below."

One of the assassins who had been wounded in their previous skirmish with the undead coughed, shaking his head at Hendak. His face bore a scowl alongside a freshly torn cut. "Don't think we trust you any more than them. For all we know, you could be another of Bodhi's tricks. You're carrying a drow with ye, after all."

Viconia laughed, shaking her head in mock sympathy. "Foolish, pathetic rivvil... if I had wanted to kill you, I could have done so already. Tell me Hendak, are all the males here so spineless?"

"Now Viccy, threats will get us nowhere." Jan tsked with one finger. "Unless you count the time when Cousin Brebo-Builder decided to-"

Viconia clasped one hand over the gnome's mouth, leaning in to hiss in his ear. "I shall not suffer another of your inane stories, jlha'zen. Speak once more and I shall cut out your tongue. And never call me 'Viccy,' again."

The sound of heaving breath and footsteps echoing down the fourth stairwell reached the ears of those waiting below. All blades and attention went to the entrance, suspicion accompanying the hope that the ones who had summoned them were finally here. As they had hoped, the Bhaalspawn and his party finally arrived, relief evident on their faces upon seeing the reinforcements they had requested. Eric VanStraaten bowed once, extending a hand to Sir Keldorn as the paladin leaned against a wall, trying to regain his wind. "Sir Keldorn! It is a pleasure to see you in this place. Our present company has been less than satisfactory."

Keldorn glanced at the assassins and the mercenaries behind him, then arched an eyebrow. "Really? I can't imagine why. How has the battle gone thus far?"

"Well enough." Arkanis spoke up, gesturing toward the stairwell that he and his team had descended. "We were ambushed by a group of vampires on our way down, though it sounds as though the paladins and Hendak's team entered unscathed. They know we're here, but I do not think they expected us in such force."

"I'd expected more from vampires, honestly." Anomen remarked, hefting his mace. "Still, it does a body good to know that adventure and evil is so near. Glorious shall be our victory if we succeed!"

"You can keep your glory." Yachmoto tossed behind him, turning to glare at the passage way that descended to Bodhi's sanctum. "I'll settle for having Bodhi's black heart on a pike."

Greywulf cut in, his voice and face tight; sweat covered his hands and face, and his clothing showed signs of battle. "Then we should hurry. There is a veritable army of undead that follow- we tried blocking our entrance, but they'll follow the way that the rest of you came in."

"An army? How close are they?" Eric VanStraaten asked with a troubled look.

"Too close." Solaufein growled. "Skeleton warriors, wraiths, even a lich or-"

Before he could finish, a shadow fiend, perhaps too excited by the thought of so much prey and rushing ahead of the others, flew down the stairs that the knights had taken and swept into the midst of them, swinging its claws at the nearest paladin. Imoen saw it coming and shouted a warning; Solaufein drew his blade and swung as he spun around- it cut the shadow fiend neatly in two, sending it's essence to the void.

The sound of clattering bones and groaning corpses began reaching them. Arkanis glanced at the others, drawing his cloak tight around him. "If we all descend to fight Bodhi, the army will catch us from behind. We must slow them so that those who go to fight the vampire will have enough time to end her existence. Once her power is defeated, the army should dissolve... I hope. Yachmoto- you lead the rest of our rogues in defense here. Use this room as a bottleneck- I shall return when our enemy is dust."

Yachmoto nodded, even if his face showed hesitation, disappointment at being left out of the final strike against Bodhi. Eric VanStraaten looked at the assassins; there were only seven, and some were wounded badly. They were talented at their profession, but it would not be enough. He inhaled sharply, then turned to his men and echoed the same sentiment as Arkanis. "I shall go to face Bodhi as well. Knights of the Radiant Heart, desperate times call for desperate measures. Join these rogues and treat them as your fellow soldiers at this hour. Hold the line for as long as you draw breath."

Hendak nodded as he watched the proceedings. "I shall do the same. We can handle this vampire, my friends- we shall all survive and return to the Coronet to celebrate our victory when this is done!"

Korgan scowled, glancing at the knights and rogues as Hendak secured his twin short swords. "Blast it, ye better not die down there, Hendak! I've not a mind to drag yer carcass back to Bernard if ye fall."

"Why Korgan, do I detect a hint of concern for our employer?" Viconia asked, her tone light and mocking. "I had thought your heart made of stone."

"No more than yours, she-elf." Korgan retorted. "So long as my pocket be filled and my axe be bloodied, I'll nae' complain."

"You'll have opportunity to fight in a few seconds, no doubt." Hendak laughed, gesturing to the others. "Shall we get moving; Greywulf, Arkanis, VanStraaten? Our foe awaits below."

They moved quickly, the respective followers of Arkanis, Hendak and VanStraaten all preparing themselves as the army of Bodhi drew ever closer. Even as the mighty group of adventurers descended, Greywulf paused for a moment, turning to the others with a grimace. "Before we arrived, Bodhi ambushed us… she captured Jaheira. I don't know if she's alive or dead... just- whatever happens…"

"We'll do everything we can to get her back safely." Eric VanStraaten finished for Greywulf, nodding firmly. "You have my word."

Nobody could say any more as the first sounds of battle began echoing above them, the distinct shout of Korgan echoing as his axe hewed into the flesh and bones of his undead opponents.

The footfalls of the nine warriors echoed down the corridor as they passed several lit torches, the path to Bodhi's final chamber lit and open. It invited them in- too obvious, and no doubt the path to a trap or ambush, but they could do nothing aside from follow. Arkanis would stop them every few minutes, bending down to disarm any traps he spotted, his eyes a bit keener than Imoen when it came to the thieving arts. Greywulf tried to hide it, but worry threatened to overwhelm him as they made their slow but steady progress to the battle ahead. All he could think of was rescuing Jaheira- if she had been harmed... no. He pushed the thought away. He couldn't let himself think of it- even the idea was too much for him to bear. He needed a clear head. Needed a focused mind. Nothing but the fight. That's all that mattered.

The sounds of the battle behind were softer now that they had distance between them, but they knew time was still of the essence. The combined might of Hendak's party, the Shadow Thieves and the Radiant Heart could possibly fend off the army of undead... possibly. It was a monumental task- if not for the layout of the room, forcing all their enemies to be funneled through three small stairwells, they would have no chance of victory. As it was, they had to hurry. The undead were immune to fatigue, fear, or uncertainty... they would do nothing less than obey Bodhi fully.

If they were to survive, Bodhi had to die quickly. With one final trap at the very door of the throne room disarmed, Arkanis looked at the others. Greywulf gave a grim nod and the assassin flung the door open. Several pools of blood were bubbling off to different sides of the room. Numerous coffins, some empty, some with unconscious vampires inside lined the walls. The vampires inside were unconscious, still regenerating from their wounds. The acrid stench of blood permeated the air, a coppery, vile scent; the smell of rotting flesh could faintly be made out as well. In the center of the room stood Bodhi, clad in her skin-tight, black leather bodice. She made no effort to hide- no vampires or undead flanked her, though there was a pair of empty shackles behind her on the wall. Her face blossomed into a vicious smile as she looked upon Imoen.

"Well... you yet live, little one. I'm surprised... I expected you to have withered away into nothing by now. It matters not, though. It shall end here." Bodhi taunted, her eyes flashing with bloodlust and excitement. "You have been quite the resourceful little things… finding your way here, rallying so many allies to your banner. I am sure every one of you has good reason to be here; do spare me the boredom of hearing them."

"Where is she, Bodhi?" Greywulf said, his voice steely and controlled. Despite the swirling mass of fear he felt inside for Jaheira's safety, he let show none of it, knowing it would only weaken his mind and feed Bodhi's twisted pleasure. "Give her back to me."

Bodhi did not respond immediately- if she had the slightest bit of fear at the nine warriors facing her, it did not show on her pale features. She instead sauntered to her left, grinning devilishly at Greywulf all the while. "You want your Jaheira back, do you? Perhaps we shall let her decide, hmm? I think we shall."

Bodhi pushed a block in the side of the wall, letting a portion of dust covered wall slide away. Footsteps echoed from within, Greywulf's breath catching in his throat as the figure inside was revealed…

"Y-yes mistress… what is your command?" Jaheira's once proud tone and voice was replaced by a mere shadow of it's former self, a subservient, glazed look to her eyes as she came to Bodhi's side. Keldorn's eyes closed for a moment, knowing exactly what had taken place... and knowing the despair that was gripping Greywulf. Her skin was a pale gray, a strong contrast to its usual healthy tan; her eyes were darker, almost black.

"Jaheira… who do you serve?" Bodhi whispered darkly, her voice echoing through the dust ridden room.

"You, my mistress." Jaheira intoned, no emotion or feeling left in her voice.

"Foul demon! You have harmed Jaheira? Minsc will not rest until you are dust on our boots!" Minsc bellowed, his neck muscles bulging as his fury grew.

"I swear by all that is holy, I will avenge myself, Jaheira, and Imoen on your corpse." Greywulf whispered, his hands shaking.

"That old tune?" Bodhi replied with a sneer, disgust evident in her voice. "I grow tired of being judged by those inferior to me. First Suldenesselar, and now you. They told you of the theft, did they? And like the fools you are, you help them, support them, and follow them without thinking!! Would you do so if you knew the full scope of their treachery?!"

"The elves above are no fools." Solaufein said grimly. "Their feelings toward you are well shared by those I travel beside. We would kill you with or without their sanction. I would kill you to simply darken the light in your undead eyes. To stop the sound of your wicked mouth drawing breath."

Bodhi's eyes narrowed, listening to the darkness in Solaufein's words. "Then you will receive their fate. You deserve all they receive, and more! They will not even approach us while we destroy them, such is their arrogance! Let them shiver in fear that they will die between me and Irenicus! They would not even acknowledge us as one of them, and now we will bury them all!"

"Elhan would not acknowledge you as his own… I don't blame him. A quick death is too good for filth like you." Greywulf growled.

"Fool!" Bodhi screamed. "They would have you think we are some foreign intruders, attacking their city for no reason! The shame is that Irenicus and I are very familiar indeed! No elf would dare turn against the others, no elf would endanger the very fabric of their antiquated and outdated society, no elf would do as Irenicus and I have done! Who was it that pled their case? Elhan? He stood by while they echoed their crimes in their punishments! I should almost let you live so that he could have the shame of an outsider questioning him about this whole matter! Almost! Your part in this ends now, all of you! I shall feast on the blood of the gods, and you will enter the Abyss with questions unanswered! Slaves, attack!"

Coffins split open and spewed out skeletons and wraiths, vampires and other undead fiends. The air was a storm of swinging blades and shouts, Solaufein sliding into battle alongside Hendak, the Vorpal sword decapitating and hewing the bones of the undead just as well as Hendak's twin blades. Eric and Arkanis found themselves fighting together as well, Imoen between the two for protection as she unleashed her magic spells upon their foes, immolating with fire and lightning. Keldorn provided cover for Aerie as she went from pool to pool, dropping vials of holy water in them to cleanse the taint within, sapping the strength of the undead vampires. Aerie cleansed another pool only to whirl in her own defense, hearing Keldorn's shout of warning. The older paladin had been occupied with two vampires attacking him, letting their former comrade Jaheira past, leaping towards Aerie, her fingers immediately snapping around the young elf's throat. She gasped for air as Jaheira throttled her, the mage's strength not enough to save herself. Aerie released Jaheira's wrists and started forming arcane gestures even as her own vision began darkening, finally letting her own hands flare with magic fire, scorching Jaheira. The vampire druid let go, stumbling back, right into an upswing from Greywulf's quarterstaff, throwing her to the wall, a glare fixed on the mage who stood to oppose her.

Greywulf glanced back to see that Aerie was still alive, if more than a little shaky in getting to her feet. Minsc had moved to defend Aerie from the vampires who came from Keldorn's opposite side, and together the paladin and the ranger held their foes at bay. Greywulf turned back to his former love, shouted a quick incantation to send five magic missiles on their way, knocking Jaheira back as each orb of energy impacted. A scream distracted him from the battle, echoing from the platform they had left. It was human… their battle had to end soon or all was lost.

X X X X X X

Viconia had been the source of the cry, taking a hit from one of the wraiths who had slid past the defense of her comrades. Its piercing claws had swept into her shoulder, numbing and deadening her entire arm. Its attack was short lived, Anomen swinging his mace to hew the monster down within seconds of its arrival, but the damage had been done. The three different groups found themselves being pushed back from their original points of defense- though casualties had been low so far, Keldorn had not been exaggerating when he described their foes as an army. For every set of bones they sent clattering to the floor, three more crawled over the remains, their fingers reaching for the necks and lives of their victims. Yachmoto grimaced as he saw another of the Shadow Thief assassins fall victim, one sword catching him in the shoulder long enough for three more to strike his chest while his defenses were down.

"That wizard better hurry with his business… I never figured on dyin' aside a group of bucket heads and pickpockets!" Korgan growled as the flat of his axe crushed the skull of an undead warrior who was still crawling after one of the knights had cleaved the bottom half of it at the waist. "Aye, boy! Make sure yer foes don't get back up when ye strike them!"

"Speak for yourself, dwarf!" the knight shouted back, slamming his shield into an onrushing zombie, missing an arm thanks to a backswing from Korgan. The knight brought his sword around to hit a shadow fiend from the other side, stumbling away to put his back to Yachmoto.

Before either of the two warriors could spar verbally any further, the sound of dark magics and incantations began filling the room. The defenders all looking to the back of the room for the source- a lich had descended, its empty eye sockets and shriveled flesh seeming to mock them as its spells ignited. Explosions detonated around the room in what seemed like an instant: knights, thieves, and adventurers were all sent flying by the power of the lich. Jan grunted with effort as he pushed Anomen's unconscious body off of him, wiping the blood from a gash on his forehead. "Viconia! You'd best hurry with some of those clerical works of yours. I think our knightly friend here is indisposed."

Viconia hissed, her indomitable spirit refusing to quit, despite her injury. She raised her hand, muttering prayers to Shar as she felt the power of the goddess fill her. A Dispel Magic knocked out the stoneskins of the creature, even as Jan raised his crossbow, aiming carefully at the center of the hordes of undead that blocked the path between them and the lich. He squeezed the trigger, and one of Jan Jansen's Flasher Master Bruiser Mates detonated in the midst of the undead. With that the path was clear, and alongside two knights and two assassins, Korgan charged.

The lich watched the five attackers approach for a moment, gauging their threat- it raised its hands as glowing orbs of white lightning began arcing within his bony, skeletal fingers. The chain lightning spell left his hands and swept along the ground, striking the first knight before jumping to the other four. The first unfortunate victim took the brunt of the power; nothing was left beside charred armor and smoldering bones. The second knight had been knocked of his feet and was unconscious if not dead, as well as the first assassin. Korgan and the fourth assassin were both injured but still on their feet, charging despite their injury. The lich managed one final spell before they reached, setting off a Sunfire spell to sweep them both away. When the flames cleared, the assassin was lying in a corner, half-melted with the heat... but through the smoke leapt Korgan, laughing madly as his angry eyes bored into the lich. His beard glowed with small embers still singing his beard; the dwarf shouted loudly as his axe smashed into the side of the lich, a split second before the lich could complete another spell. It looked like victory was at hand... a flash of light signaled the activation of the lich's Contingency spell. Another wave of protections rose over the undead wizard; Korgan watched his axe bounce off the lich, unharmed. He had just enough time to mutter a dwarven curse before the lich began a second spell incantation.

"A little help here, elf!" the dwarf shouted, hammering the lich furiously, hoping to disrupt the casting. Viconia felt her energy fade and wane, but she pushed forward anyway, beginning another spell, hoping she could remove the spells covering the lich fast enough. She rapidly saw that her words wouldn't be fast enough- before her eyes, a Warding Whip spell impacted the lich, alongside a Breach, courtesy of two wands Yachmoto had drawn from his belt when given a bit of breathing room. With both of the spell and physical protections dropped from the lich, Korgan took his last opportunity and slammed the axe he held forward with all his might. It smashed through the crumbing frame of the lich, sending small pieces of bone, cloth, and dust flying behind it. The lich howled it's undead cry, rattling Korgan's teeth but leaving him unaffected by the fading power behind it; the dying lich turned down to stare into Korgan's face.

"Ye'er definitely the most powerful thing I've fought in a while…" Korgan growled, spitting into the lich's face. "And the ugliest too."

The dwarf's fist smashed the skull of the lich, sending the rest of it clattering to the ground. "Congratulations dwarf, but don't get ahead of yourself." Yachmoto called, the dwarf rumbling back to the guard lines, pausing only briefly to smash a few persistent bones of the lich that still moved. "I think that was but the first wave."

"The first wave? What do you-" Jan's questioning was cut off by another howl, this time from a horde of shadows and wraiths that poured down the stairs at them. "Ah. Have I mentioned how much I hate the undead?"

X X X X X X

"If there's one thing that Minsc hates, its evil… but what he hates even more is evil that still wriggles and wiggles after he has butt-stomped it the first time." the large ranger grumbled as he stabbed the vampire he had hacked just a minute ago again and again, finally sending the beast back to its coffin. Hendak leapt out and slammed a stake into the chest of the unconscious monster, ending its existence permanently. Things were still a blur of confusion and fighting, any stratagems degenerating into merely attempts to survive. Bodhi's final guard was more numerous than they had anticipated, and there was a seemingly endless supply of warriors and shadows that challenged them.

Nobody was uninjured; everybody had taken some sort of diminishment to their abilities, whether by wounds or the fearsome dark energy drain of the vampires. The prime target was the specter of Bodhi, never engaging in full battle with anyone, only watching and waiting for a chance for a free strike. She had been most effective, as both Hendak and Greywulf could bear witness to. Both of them had suffered the worst blows from the vampire, the former gladiator still shaken by the long gashes he bore across his chest and arm. Greywulf had barely escaped having his throat torn out, but the blood that dripped from his wounds was slowly becoming a serious problem. Even more serious though was the matter of Jaheira, who Greywulf had been forced to square off with for the past few minutes, Bodhi undoubtedly commanding her to kill her former lover.

Greywulf had tried words- they were worthless, less than worthless. Try as he might to break through to the woman he loved, it only seemed to enrage the fledgling vampire that had been Jaheira even more. Not the briefest flicker of memory was present in her eye or face. The time for words was gone. All that was left were actions. Greywulf sent a whirlwind of magic flying through the room, cutting a swath through the undead ranks. It slammed Jaheira into a wall, the druid's head snapping back to impact heavily against the hard concrete.

Jaheira did not stir for a moment; her head was slumped over her chest. This was it… the opening he had needed. Jaheira was open to attack, unable to defend herself; Bodhi was presently occupied with Minsc… Greywulf hastily summoned up the most powerful spell he knew- an Abi-Dalzim's Horrid Wilting finally materialized in his hand, the magics summoned. The incantations had taken long enough; Jaheira was beginning to stir again. Greywulf squeezed back tears as he prepared to hurl the magical skull of death… a vision of Jaheira's skin crumbling from her bones- _I have to do it- _her scream as any trace of life was ripped from her _- I have no choice- _her soul condemned to an eternity of nothingness- _I have to- _a vision of Jaheira's lips meeting his, the two locked in their first and last embrace, an affirmation of the love they had discovered for one another-

_I can't do it. I can't. I won't._

Greywulf screamed in rage and despair, almost at himself as he threw the magic skull at Bodhi instead. The vampire hissed and leapt out of the way at the last second, but the cloud of death covered everything close by, catching the leg of the vampire. Bodhi shrieked as the skin and bone of her limb shriveled and dried, every drop of moisture sucked from the vampire's leg. She hissed, hurtling as fast as she could towards Greywulf. Eric VanStraaten moved to block, but Bodhi's arm made him pay for his boldness, slamming him away and into the arms of a group of skeleton warriors. His shouts of valor and courage were brave and his sword swung mightily, but the downswings of four of the undead creatures ended his shouts and cries for good.

Within seconds Bodhi was on top of Greywulf, her hand clamped over his mouth to prevent his incantations. Bodhi hissed as an arrow from Imoen's bow went over her back, the thief-mage's desperate shot to save her brother just a hair off. Bodhi pulled the wizard to his feet and positioned him between her and Imoen, the only free member of the group who could keep him from falling to her. All the others were occupied in battle; Imoen's hand trembled ever so slightly at the string of the bow as Jaheira rose to her feet, striding to Bodhi's side.

"It's over, indeed." Bodhi whispered to Greywulf, the man's struggles weak and ineffective against her strength. "You have failed… Imoen will wither and die, as will you. You have lost Jaheira forever to the darkness of Undeath. Do you finally understand? Do you finally accept your complete and utter failure?"

Greywulf writhed in her grip, desperately trying to free himself, even as Jaheira approached from the side, moving to attack Imoen. "Jaheira…" Imoen said through suddenly dry lips, "Get out of the way… I'll kill you if I have to."

"No you won't." Bodhi laughed. "You don't have near the courage to kill your old 'friend.' Greywulf couldn't do it; neither can you. She is mine now… forever."

"You're wrong, Bodhi." Greywulf choked out. "She's not a vampire yet, not completely… whether I live or die, I swear somebody here will free her from your thrall."

"What is that I sense in your voice?" Bodhi asked in mock surprise, her fangs bared at his neck. "Hope? That won't do. Slave! Come to your master."

Jaheira immediately turned and sprinted towards Bodhi, Greywulf suddenly unsure of her intent. His eyes widened as he felt Bodhi's hand reach into his robes and pull out the wooden stake inside. His muffled scream of warning was too late; it would have been of no use anyway. Jaheira's path took her directly into the pointed end of the stake; the wood stained red as Jaheira gasped, her blood spurting out of her as Bodhi pushed the stake into her stomach even further, throwing her to the ground. The vampiric druid made one last reach, as though grasping for life... and then she was gone.

Greywulf barely heard the anguished cry coming from his sister, releasing the lightning arrow she had held in the bow shaft. Bodhi threw Greywulf's lifeless body into the oncoming path of the arrow, its power jolting and surging through him effortlessly, striking his shoulder. Before Imoen could comprehend her mistake or make another shot, one of the skeleton warriors who had just recently slain Eric VanStraaten attacked her, almost beheading her with the force of his swing. As Imoen fought for her life once more, Greywulf's body rolled over the cold and unfeeling stone to lie next to Jaheira's corpse, his shoulder throbbing with the puncture wound of the arrow that was still lodged in him while small arcs of lightning played over his body. He could feel nothing but pain, his nerves and limbs numb as they tried to regain feeling.

He barely managed to turn his red, tearstained gaze to the approaching vampire, bending down to face him with that unbearable look of viciousness on her face. She pulled the arrow out from his shoulder, taking a chunk of flesh and blood with it. Straddling him with her legs, she leaned into his ear, whispering quietly. "Enough pain, hmm? Time to die."

The vampire's hands clenched around his neck, squeezing as though to choke the life out of him, to make him pliable for when she gorged herself on his blood… and yet, his neck was unmoving. It was as though steel cords had replaced his vertebrae and esophagus, his flesh hard as rock. Bodhi's eyes narrowed in confusion, her hands clenching down harder with the strength of the undead, and he was still unmoving. His head slowly turned from facing the body of Jaheira to face her… and the gaze that fixed upon her was one of a darkened eyes, black and void of any light or color, swirling orbs of death. They were a sight Bodhi had seen only once before, in the underground of the Spellhold asylum, right as she and her vampire cohorts had prepared to end his life there.

"No! You can't!" she screamed, swinging one hand down to beat his face, knocking him to the ground. Her fists flew down in a fearful rage, savagely hitting him again and again, blows that would crush the skull of any mortal... but with each blow she landed, it became so very noticeable that the only effect was a surging pain lancing through her hands. Greywulf slowly rose to his feet as he pushed Bodhi off him, the vampire flying back, coming in a crouch. She backed away, watching in furious horror as Greywulf wiped the blood from his face, black mist and magic beginning to swirl around him, turning his robes blood red.

"Children! To me! Kill him! Kill him now!" she shrieked, as all of the undead in the room disengaged from whomever they happened to be fighting right then and immediately charged the transforming sorcerer. The rest of the party alongside Hendak and Arkanis gazed breathlessly at the transformation before them; while everybody within Greywulf's party knew the horror about to be unleashed, Hendak and Arkanis could only guess at what madness had taken the mage.

"What befalls him?! Is this some new kind of spellcraft he conjures?!" Arkanis shouted, trying to be heard over the crackle of magic roaring through the small room.

"No! It is an evil taint that he summons, a darkness from his soul that has been unleashed!" Keldorn shouted back as he gripped the Hallowed Redeemer tightly. "Bodhi has unleashed something inside him that I hoped I would never see again. Pray his sanity will return before he kills us all!"

Even as Keldorn shouted, Greywulf's shattering mind could barely make out the paladin's voice, his mind exploding with fire and passion.

**"YES… RELEASE AT LAST!!"**

_No!! You will not have control! I will not let you go again-_

**"YOU MAKE IT SOUND AS THOUGH YOU HAVE A CHOICE IN THE MATTER, MY EVER PATHETIC HOST. I WILL NO LONGER WAIT FOR YOUR COMMAND, OR YOUR PERMISSION… I WILL TAKE MY PLACE ON THIS EARTH!! TREMBLE, MORTALS, FOR THE NEW LORD OF MURDER HAS COME!!"**

The transformation of Chaos and death was complete, the last remnants of Greywulf fading into the avatar of Bhaal himself, the Slayer.

A blast of fire from the jaws of the avatar was enough to drive back the frontal assault of three vampires, and its four arms raked through the remaining skeleton warriors with no effort at all. The Slayer scanned the room, its primary target lost for the moment… it screeched as Bodhi launched herself onto the Slayer's back, avoiding the razor spines that extended from him, raking her own claws deep into the scales and hide of the red skinned creature. The spectators watched in a combination of wariness and hope, when the battle was suddenly overtoned by explosions from above them, back in the chamber that their followers guarded.

"Hendak… take the others and ensure the way out stays open… they have been without support for long enough." Keldorn commanded, backing still further from the battle between Bodhi and her last few remaining undead soldiers and the Slayer.

"I'm not going anywhere, not until I know Greywulf is safe!" Imoen answered angrily, even as Hendak nodded hesitantly, beginning to lead the others up the stair again.

"There is no time to argue-" Keldorn began, to which Imoen interrupted, "Exactly. So keep 'em moving; Keldorn and I will stay here."

Hendak and Arkanis lead the charge as Minsc, Solaufein and Aerie wearily followed, prepared to rejoin the fray once more. Even as they disappeared, Keldorn glared down Imoen. "Do not attempt to stop me, girl. You know what must be done here."

"And what if he comes back? What if he beats it?!" Imoen shot back furiously, trying not to wince at the pain from her injuries.

"Pray he does. Pray he returns and does not add us to the corpses here." Keldorn said darkly as he gripped the Hallowed Redeemer even tighter.

Even as they exchanged wary looks and opposing views, the battle continued to rage. The last of Bodhi's minions were dead and the Slayer knew it. If Bodhi were ever to release the death grip she held on his back, just out of reach of all four of the Slayer's arms, there would be no question as to who would win the fight. Bodhi howled in anger and fury as she bit down into the scales and flesh of the Slayer, the demon whirling and flailing even harder to get Bodhi off. It slammed itself into the concrete wall, trying to crush Bodhi and knock her grip loose- she slid downward, wrapping her arms around the waist of the Slayer instead as she clawed and bit. The Slayer howled in fury- spinning as Bodhi's grip finally loosened- she vaulted off the demon and used a concrete wall as a springboard to leap back. She plowed claws first into the Slayer's face, ripping and gouging at his eyes. Blood splattered her and the floor as she attacked viciously, but he swatted her off with three of his arms.

The Slayer stumbled forward, temporarily blinded- Bodhi came again, dodging back and forth with every bit of speed she could muster. The Slayer took each hit, rumbling in growing pain and anger as she struck, unable to track her movements. She struck from behind again, but this time he spun and struck her squarely in the stomach, sending her rolling away. She looked at the Slayer's face in horror as it dropped it's fourth arm that had been covering his face- the eyes she had clawed out were slowly regenerating, growing anew in the bloody sockets. She moved to dodge the attack that was coming- an arrow struck her from the side, dropping her to one knee.

Imoen smiled in satisfaction as she lowered her bow, watching the lightning playing over Bodhi. The leg that had been so affected by Greywulf's Horrid Wilting spell collapsed as well, leaving Bodhi on her knees before the approaching demon. With a mighty yank and a screech of victory, the Slayer pulled Bodhi off the ground and dangled the vampire in front of it, each arm grasping one of the vampire's limbs, completely immobilizing her. Bodhi writhed and fought, but her power was nothing compared to the iron muscles of the Slayer. Its slavering jaws drew close to Bodhi's face, the black gaze staring into the horrified eyes of Bodhi… it opened its maw and bit down on Bodhi's head. The enormous jaws crunched her skull, biting and clawing everything within reach. Her shrieks disappeared along with her physical form, evaporating into wisps of cloud that floated away from the Slayer's grasp. They reformed into a larger cloud that exited to the room Jaheira had come from originally, presumably to the coffin located there.

"Enough, Greywulf!" Keldorn shouted. "She is defeated; now is the time for you to prove your quality! Show yourself worthy of my trust!"

The Slayer growled, its muscles rippling as the wounds Bodhi had inflicted on his body slowly regenerating. It moved forward, stepping towards the two remaining party members with arms raised. "Please, Greywulf... for Jaheira's sake. For her."

Imoen's words stopped the beast- it slowly turned its gaze down from them to the corpse on the ground, to the dead and bleeding form that had once been Jaheira. It was a strange sight indeed, watching the gargantuan demon kneel beside the body of Jaheira, its growls sounding mournful and full of regret. It removed the stake from Jaheira's stomach, then held her body close in all four arms. With a last howl, the form of the Slayer began to dissipate, revealing a grief stricken Greywulf in its place, cradling her limp body. Imoen felt a sigh of relief go through her as she saw her brother back in control once more, though her eyes also darted over to the location Bodhi had retreated to. It was so close to being over; she pulled the wooden stake at her belt and took a step toward the coffin. Even as she moved, Greywulf looked up and spoke through the tears and dirt covering his face. "Do it. End it now."

Keldorn watched him and listened to his words, then gave him a grim nod and headed back up the stair to the fight with the undead hordes. Imoen strode past Greywulf and into the final sanctum of Bodhi's lair. There was a modicum of fineries in the room, all punctuated by a long coffin lying in the center of the room. She pushed it open, looking with revulsion and fury upon Bodhi's body, torn and bloody. Her eyes were slits, barely open as she tried to raise an arm in feeble defense.

"No! This life is… mine." Bodhi whispered hoarsely.

Imoen glared heavily for a moment- she leaned in and slammed the stake she carried downwards with all her might. It impaled her heart perfectly, Bodhi's body going into convulsions as it began to disintegrate like old parchment, becoming nothing more than foul-smelling dust. Within seconds, it had blown away, leaving only the black heart of the creature, impaled on Imoen's stake. Beneath the vampire was a small compartment that slid open easily- inside lay a large, lantern like object that glowed and radiated with elven magic.

Imoen hefted it, looking over it with wonder- a wind rushed and magic flowed, Imoen gasping as her body was filled with the return of her soul. It was a rush more powerful, more personal than anything before. It was a pleasure and a feeling more intense than love or hate or sex or any other experience she'd felt on the face of Fae'run. She dropped to her knees, clutching her chest as the dust settled around her. She writhed and trembled, desperately trying to catch her breath.

Her body finally stopped heaving, the girl collapsing onto her back and allowing herself to lie still for a moment, resting in the dirt and the blood and the dust of the crypts. At long last, she was whole again.

In the room beside hers, Greywulf sat on his knees, still and unmoving as he held Jaheira in his arms- torn and ripped apart by Bodhi's final act of malice. Bodhi had finally been defeated... but at far too high a cost.


	89. Part 3: Making The Hard Choices

The Tree of Life... the lifeblood of Suldenesselar. The very center of elven-ness, if such a word existed. The source from which the residents of the great city drew their near-immortality, from which their essence was formed and sustained. Being near it was like drinking in nature itself, a flood of cool, green earth entrenched in the swirling mists of the morning. Leaves dripping with dew and air that smelled like fresh strawberries wafting through any and all senses of those nearby. To see it was a wonder and a blessing for any elf of the city; for an outsider to witness its majesty was nearly unheard of. Were it to happen, it should only have been for those whose deeds were the stuff of legends. For those who had proved themselves friends of the elves by their blood, sweat, and tears. For those who had the favor of the city, the Queen, and the elven gods.

For the man who walked the mammoth branches of the Tree now, he fit none of these descriptions. No, this man was unworthy in every aspect possible. Spirit, deed... in no way should this defiler, this blasphemer have ever been let near the Tree's sanctuary. There was no cool air, no gentle breeze to rustle the leaves gently or calm the spirit. It was unwilling to share its blessings with one so unworthy. If Jon Irenicus noticed, if it bothered him that the Tree itself spurned and condemned his presence, he did not show it. He simply continued walking, his iron boots thudding with each step, unnatural and too loud in what should have been unbreakable serenity. It was as if nature screamed in protest at him- and he simply sneered back.

He paused, looking over the site, already calculating the suitability for his summoning spell. The branch was large enough... it could support the weight and the strain of the creature he would bind to the tree. Beginning his lengthy incantations, he grinned in anticipatory excitement; his revenge was almost complete. He was so close… he could not be stopped.

It had taken nearly a week to complete the last two summonings, but he could wait. Irenicus was patient. The dark words and chants flowed and wafted from his mouth, binding the darkness of his soul to the Tree. It was an unnatural pairing, one that had to be forced. He was strong; the power of Bhaal more than made up for the resistance that the elven spirits put to him. The third parasite would join with the first two he placed, and then he could begin his final act of revenge. Finally. After so long-

His hands shook, his entire body trembling as though a shock had run through him. His eyes flashed open and he looked back and forth, ensuring that he had not been taken by surprise- there was nobody. No elven counterattack, no surprise ambush. He frowned- concentrating his magics he stretched out, trying to find the source of the disturbance. The Center of the Tree-? No, it wasn't her. She was still bound and incapacitated. She might not even awake before his rituals were complete and he had joined the ranks of the divine. The thought gave him focus, and he tried to go back to his summoning, but he could not simply let the interruption go. He had not gotten this far without being prepared for every eventuality, every contingency. Not knowing the enemy could be his undoing, as unlikely as it seemed. One more attempt at finding the source- another jolt hit him, this time knocking him off his feet.

He landed rather ingloriously for such a powerful sorcerer; it only took him a moment to push himself back up, this time catching the trail of the presence. He pulled it to himself to inspect, to study- there. It was a familiar presence, the feel and the power of the soul he had gifted to Bodhi. Imoen's soul. But there was no darkness, no familiar anger lurking in the heart and body surrounding it. The one who possessed it now was bright, darkened from her previous purity but still strong, unmistakable in her convictions and beliefs. Imoen... but if she was in possession of her soul again-

Irenicus swore, pushing the rapidly growing doubts into the back of his mind. Bodhi had been a fool to let herself be defeated by these gnats. They were nothing, withering fools who had no further place in his plans. It wouldn't matter in the end; they would never reach him in time. The army of drow, constructs, and demons who currently occupied Suldenesselar would make sure of that. He was no fool; he would not let himself be denied. Not again. He sneered once before beginning his incantations a second time, sitting down as he prepared the final summoning.

X X X X X X

Night at the Guildhall of the Shadow Thieves. Once upon a time, it had been a time for fear- a time for the terror that accompanied the knowledge of the inevitable, of the slow inexorable march toward death that the guild was taking. When the vampires that opposed them seemed unstoppable, and each night they would lose more men and women to its menace. It was a time they had once ruled- that rule had been wrested from them by Bodhi's bloody claws. That very night, for the final time, they had wrested it back. The combined might of the Radiant Heart, the Bhaalspawn and his followers, mercenaries from all corners and walks of life- it had taken all their strength, and even then it had almost failed.

The ragged and shrinking band of defenders who pushed at the army of undead in a final attempt to give Bodhi's opponents time to defeat her were all but spent; they would be forced to retreat back to Bodhi's lair in moments... not an option. Even when Keldorn and the others pushed up to aid them, it seemed hopeless; without Bodhi's spirit to command them, the job was easier but still nigh-impossible. What they didn't count on was the full might of the Shadow Thieves descending on the Graveyards.

In the end, Bodhi's actions in setting Aveldar against Aran Linvail and spurring him into a gambit of risking their whole strength backfired; their attack on the army's rear was unchecked and swept mercilessly through the ranks of the dead. Only when Arkanis and Linvail could meet face to face, the entire crypt cleansed of undead, did they realize that victory was finally and fully theirs. The remaining knights of the Radiant Heart, including Anomen Delryn, had returned to the Order Hall of the Radiant Heart, the bodies of the fallen in tow. Korgan and Jan had been content to receive their pay and take their leave- the former citing that his job was done and his pay received- the latter citing a certain invention of sorts that could use some more tinkering at his home. Viconia had slipped away in the night- despite several offers from Aran for her to join them for the celebration.

So it was that the Guildhall, once a place of suffering and dread, had become at least for that night, a place of celebration, of relief... of joy. For most, at least. Hendak placed his hand on Imoen's shoulder, the Northman squeezing gently once before heading out of the hall and back to the Copper Coronet. "I am truly sorry for your loss. If there is anything I can ever do for you again, please come to me. You know I will not hesitate to aid however I can."

Imoen just nodded and smiled weakly, watching as he disappeared into the night. She wrapped her arms around herself as the closing of the door sent a burst of the cool night air past her- she shivered lightly before turning to rejoin the rest of her comrades… those who yet remained in their midst.

"He's barely moved or said a word." Aerie spoke quietly, the sadness in her tone unable to hide the worry that was there too. All of them felt the sting of Jaheira's death, but none so hard as Greywulf. He still sat alone by her body in one of the rooms that the Shadow Thieves had given them. Minsc sat beside the Avariel, his usually jolly face downcast and somber. He placed one of his arms around her, shaking his head.

"He grieves for the one he loved. Minsc loved Jaheira like a sister... but he cannot fully know the pain that our friend Greywulf feels." the ranger sighed deeply and did not speak again. Keldorn's hands were on his knees, his back hunched as he craned his head up to gaze at the others.

No... no, they didn't know. He was possibly the only one who did- the only one who could truly sympathize and feel what the boy was feeling. He knew what it was to have the one you loved ripped away through violence. To hold the body of your lover and cry until there were no tears left to shed. He knew... he also knew that it never got any easier. That revenge, appealing as it was, would not ease the pain. That vengeance wouldn't heal the wounds. Bodhi was dead and so was Firkraag- oh yes, he knew how the boy felt. And he knew that only the help of friends and time could ease what he felt. Not that it was what Greywulf wanted to hear, or what he himself would have wanted to hear when it had happened to him. And so Keldorn remained silent and lent only his spirit, his presence to their discussion.

Solaufein watched as the three of them sat by a roaring fireplace, surrounded by all the fineries that the Shadow Thieves had to offer them. Not that many of the guild members were around to laud praise or thanks upon them for their help. Word had spread of Greywulf's... transformation. Everyone kept their distance, though several among the group no doubt considered that a blessing. The drow turned his attention back to Imoen, slowly returning from the entrance of the guild hall, having walked Hendak out before saying goodbye to the gladiator. She was nearly as disturbed and saddened as Greywulf- rather she would have been if not for the unquenchable energy that had reenergized her, that was still recognizable within her. The return of her soul, no doubt. She saw Solaufein in her path and stopped, looking up to his impressive height, dwarfing her easily. "Hmm?"

The warrior did not say anything initially, he merely studied her for a time longer. The silence almost grew awkward before he finally spoke. "She was close to you, wasn't she." Not a question, just a matter of fact. Imoen didn't see the need to point it out, so she simply nodded, slipping her hands into her pockets as the fire across the room began to return the warmth to her bones.

"Yeah... as close to a mother figure as I had, really. Not that I ever would have told her that- she taught us, y'know? Greywulf and me, when we were first on the road... she and Khalid protected us and kept us safe, even after all our boneheaded mistakes that nearly got us killed more times than I can count..." Imoen trailed off, realizing she was beginning to babble. She simply exhaled, her pretty eyes marred by the weary acceptance of sorrow and tragedy once again. "I just... we've been through so much together. All of us: Minsc, Greywulf, Jaheira and me... it's not fair."

"Life rarely is." Solaufein intoned, his voice probably a bit more emotionless than he should have kept it; as it was Imoen's sorrow was quick to turn to irritation. She scowled, brushing past him without feeling. He quickly realized how unfeeling he had sounded and put one hand on her shoulder, the girl glaring at him in response; a quick pull and she was out of his grip, stalking toward the others without looking back. He cursed under his breath... it hadn't really meant to come out so impersonal, so uncaring. The others were in mourning, he understood it well enough. It just wasn't something he ever did, if at all possible.

A door on the opposite side of the lounge opened, and into the room stalked the leader of the Shadow Thieves. Aran Linvail, flanked on both sides by Arkanis and Yachmoto. He walked slowly, quietly to their group. He received looks ranging from irritation to polite acknowledgment- the Shadowmaster smiled, bowing gently in response. "I, ah... I understand this has been difficult for all of you. You may think me uncaring, but I certainly do not wish those who have proved to be my greatest allies harm. Without your aid, none of us would be here tonight to celebrate our victory. Are you certain none of you will join the feast?"

"No. Thank you." Keldorn's tones were civil as always, but it was hard to mistake them as being hospitable or even friendly. None of the others saw fit to expound on them, and so Aran nodded, as though having already guessed their answer.

"As you will. Where is Greywulf? There is a matter I should greatly wish to speak with him about-" Aran began a second time, but the fury of the glare that Imoen sent his way was enough to make even the leader of the Shadow Thieves consider his next few words a bit more carefully. Any loss of composure passed quickly, and he took a step back, raising his hands placatingly. "No harm or insult intended, I assure you. I can see that now is an inopportune time. I shall return in the morn, perhaps Greywulf will feel more inclined-"

"I'm here now, Linvail. What do you want?" the others looked to see the sorcerer at the door of the room he had been locked away in for so long. His jaw was set and his hands clenched; the energy, the life that was usually in their leader-of-sorts was gone, replaced by Helm knew what. Sorrow, despair, hate? Maybe all of them, maybe none. Aran cocked his head slightly upon the appearance of the Bhaalspawn, letting the corners of his mouth curl upward.

"I'm glad you decided to speak with me. I have considered what happened in the Kensai crypts... more importantly, how much you and your own sacrificed on our behalf. We certainly owe you a reward of sorts, and in searching the remains of Bodhi's lair, I think I've found the perfect manner of repayment."

Greywulf met Aran's eyes- his expression was cold, his voice like stone grinding on stone as he spoke. "Do you really think we want your money? Your magic? Your weapons? Do you?!"

Any other man would have been intimidated, would have backed off at the dangerous tone in Greywulf's voice. Aran simply smiled wider and took a step forward to the tensed man. "Not at all. I think we have the one thing you want. The only thing you'd want at his moment. A way to bring Jaheira back from the dead."

Silence exploded through the room- it was followed by gasps of disbelief and a fury of warning as Greywulf raised a finger to Aran's face, Arkanis and Yachmoto lurching to protect their master as he hissed, "If... if this is some way you think you can manipulate us-"

Aran shook his head gently, pushing away the blades that were just beginning to come unsheathed from his bodyguards' sheaths. "That won't be necessary. I assure you, there is no catch. No hidden agenda. If you desire to see something self-serving in my offering, then perhaps we simply believe that keeping your woman alive and breathing is the best way to keep that demon inside you locked up. Fair enough?"

He didn't wait for an answer. Aran Linvail raised a hand, snapping once. A man in the robes of a monk stepped in hurriedly, placing three large, dusty tomes on the ground at Aran's feet. He scurried back out even as Aran leaned down, picking up the one on top of the stack and dusting off the leather bound cover. "You see, we have long since attempted to find a way to restore the men we lost to Bodhi's guild. Dozens of good men and women, too good for the undeath that Bodhi gave them. As soon as I discovered what manner of creature we were up against, I committed all our scholars to discovering a way to reverse vampirism. As I said, though the possibility of rescuing our own from the ranks of the dead was foremost in our mind, the idea of returning Bodhi to a mortal state made the prospect even more intriguing. Admittedly, she would've been much easier to kill that way."

He finished dusting the cover off, then read the cover, his eyes tracing the arcane runes with a hint of effort as he translated them to the common. It seemed for a moment he would become lost in the curious book he held, but he returned his gaze to the others within seconds, gesturing to the books at his feet with his eyes. "We came close, you know. So very close to discovering the key, the secret of reversing the hold Bodhi held over her slaves. The final key came down to three tomes that were held at the Temple of Oghma. We moved to claim them, but Bodhi had learned of our efforts and arrived first. We came to find the monks dead and their libraries torn apart. We sorted through the mess, but the books we sought were gone. Last night, we found them among other things, the equipment of your companion included."

"What are you saying, Linvail? Speak plainly and quickly." Keldorn growled, leaning forward with interest but admittedly still impatient. The man was far too full of himself- willing to drag out this matter if only to make himself look better to the ones he was professing to help. The worst part was that he was just good enough to back up all of his showboating and arrogance.

Aran arched one eyebrow at Keldorn, then shrugged and flipped the book open. "As you wish. The book I hold now is called '_Dea Vampir Becomos_.' As the title suggests, it holds the keys to transforming oneself into a vampire without the aid of an existing Nosferatu- if one should truly desire such a fate."

He closed it, then knelt and took up a second book, repeating the process of dusting it off, scanning the cover, then flipping through the musty pages until he found the one he sought. "This tome confirms our hopes- rather, yours. It tells of how vampires who have yet to be fully turned can be made human again. The process is best done while they yet 'live', but it is suggested that it is not impossible to do when the subject is dead."

"And the third book?" Greywulf asked, uncertainty in his eyes.

Aran merely smiled as he picked up the third book and began to read.

_" 'The Vapiricus Omnibus: Unabridged.' _This section_, 'Ending the Plague of Teeth,' _reads_: _

_Stuat tuo Gotha: 'The resolution': _

_With the witch at the fore, long previous to her treachery, we did stride the hills of Umar seeking comfort in our hour of need. The time had come for the living to mourn no more, and the blades that were fettered by sentiment were cut free, and it was decided that we would speak for our lives with the sinews of our sword arms. The honored dead that did take flight in the darkness of shadow would no more receive sorrow from those of us that had lost their friends and relatives to the plague of teeth. _

_Mornat de'pas Golvana Fathorn: 'Battles when came the dead:' _

_There came we, the army of light, armed with faith and conviction, and we did march unto the tombs of the restless dead during hours of day. With wooden edge we struck down master and slave, though many paid for each thrust with their lives. In the fallen there was the danger of a scourge anew, and many of the newly infected seemed doomed to walk again with dire purpose. _

_Aegato Davon: 'The plea:'_

'_No more' cried we! No more would we lose to the plague. These new fallen could not be abandoned. We had fought for our lives and theirs, and they would not be taken. To the Temple we went, to the god of Sun and Light. Amaunator would save them. Amaunator, whose touch turns shadows to fire. In the arms of the Sun god were the infected placed, and the hearts of their dark masters were laid there with them. Blood did burn, and the dead returned, but not as undead or unliving, but alive and freed from taint. Many did walk the light side home, when last the plague did fall."_

Linvail finished reading, slowly closing the pages of the book to close it with a minimum of sound or sign. He turned to Arkanis and handed the tome off to him, looking over the members of the party with dubious expectancy. Nobody said a word, but the change was more than apparent in Greywulf. A faint glimmer of hope shone in those brown eyes, and his face was flashing back and forth between disbelief and fear- disbelief that such a thing could be true, fear that it was not.

In the end, it was Keldorn who spoke, the paladin keeping his tone low yet controlled. "Are you certain of this? I find your plan... dubious in parts."

"As well you should." Aran replied evenly, arching one eyebrow, a slight smile crossing his roguish features. "The witch he speaks of was Umar, the sorceress for whom the hill country far east of Athkatla is named. She was once an ally of the knights that participated in the Hunting... less than a year passed before she found herself one of the Hunted. Fallen into the darkness which she studied so hard to defeat."

"And Amaunator?" Aerie asked with uncertainty. "I... I had thought he was destroyed in the Time of Troubles..."

"He was." Keldorn glanced to her, then returning his gaze to Aran with a challenge. "His followers have all but vanished, his temples torn down and left empty. What makes you so sure this will work?"

Aran exhaled loudly, staring up at the wooden slats of the ceiling; he turned his gaze back down, speaking to Greywulf rather than the paladin. "I'm not certain at all. This is, however, all I can offer. The Temple to Amaunator that the book speaks of is still standing, my spies have confirmed this much. And as you suggest, paladin, it has been long since abandoned by the god's followers. In their place came... something darker."

"What do you mean?" Aerie asked, glimpses of uncertainty in her pale features.

"Wraiths, shadows, beasts of darkness haunt the halls of the Temple. The Altar of Light has been taken and perverted for use by a being of intense evil. A Shade Lord makes his home in the Umar Hills now." Aran paused for a moment, as though seeking how to continue. "It has gathered much evil to itself... even a wyrm now serves the darkness, ensnared and enthralled. A Shadow Dragon will be no easy opponent, but you must pass them all should you wish to restore Jaheira. Here... I offer you a map of the Umar Hills including the location of the Temple, and this: the blackened heart of Bodhi herself. You will need it to complete the ritual."

Yachmoto drew the two items from his robes and handed them to Minsc, the ranger staring in disgust at the dried organ. Aran did not wait for them to reply, nor to question him or the validity of his offering further. He bowed slightly, turning on his heel, and headed for the door. "We leave you in peace. Do what you will."

As the echo of the door closing reverberated and faded in the room, everyone waited for him to speak. To see what he would say. And still he remained motionless, barely blinking. Only the steady rise and fall of his chest showed him to be alive- finally and without hesitation, he stood and his gaze drifted over each and every one of them. "Prepare to move. We make for the Umar Hills in the morning."

Keldorn stood to look even with the sorcerer, speaking as carefully and choosing his words wisely. "Greywulf... what of the Lanthorn? The elves are still awaiting its return-"

Greywulf did not move towards the paladin, nor did his voice rise. It was only the harsh, unforgiving coldness in his tone that betrayed the raw emotion that was there. "Do you think I give a damn about that right now?"

Keldorn watched as Greywulf disappeared into his quarters, the door slamming behind him. The others looked at Keldorn with worry, even as the paladin realized just how far Greywulf would go in his grief. And just how far he would have to go to make certain they all didn't pay for it.

X X X X X X

"Something wrong, Keldorn?" Aerie asked as they walked. Morning had come quicker than any of them had expected. Sleep had been sporadic and hard to come by for any of them- particularly Imoen, Minsc and Greywulf. They sat at the outskirts of the city, Greywulf scarce moving from Jaheira's body. His gaze was constantly on the direction of their travel, the hills in the far off distance.

"I have much thinking to do, Aerie. My path is unclear before me; I must make a decision, one which troubles my heart." Keldorn responded wearily as he looked up at the elf maiden. "Do not worry about me, Aerie. Give Greywulf the comfort he needs at this time. Make sure he knows he is not alone."

Aerie lingered for a moment longer, still wondering about Keldorn's sudden pensiveness, then did as he said, moving away and over to Greywulf's side. Keldorn could not hear what they were saying, but it could not have been much; his face only turned to her momentarily before returning to the horizon. Keldorn sighed again, his duty clear. It would not be easy.

"You look how Minsc feels."

The ranger had approached the paladin from behind, and a grave expression covered the usually cheery face of Minsc. "The tinge of sorrow haunts everyone after losing a friend in battle, Minsc."

"Yes, but we hope never to feel it, so often do we put it off. In Rashemen, when a great warrior died, his body was burned and a grand feast was held in his honor for many days afterwards. Minsc had always celebrated these things as natural when there... but Minsc was never truly close to any of those he mourned for. Minsc finally understands why it is hard to feast for one whom you loved."

"Yes… I know what it is to lose a loved one." Keldorn said with a weary smile. "You would do anything… cling to the slightest hope, the barest odds to try and get them back."

The ranger looked over the green and tan plains, fixing on the posture of the man who still ignored his surroundings, looking no further than the horizon. He turned back to Keldorn and sighed. "He will not say it, but he feels that her death is his fault. Just as she felt Khalid's death was hers. Minsc wants to help them see... but he does not know how."

Greywulf stood to his feet and with a simple motion and a word, called for them to keep moving, to begin their long trek to the Umar Hills. Keldorn exhaled sharply, then gave Minsc a small, hopefully comforting smile. "Don't give up hope yet, my friend. We'll all need it in the days to come."

He prayed for strength as he quickened his pace, leaving Minsc's side to join Greywulf. He finally reached the man's side, turning his head to take in the profile of Greywulf's face. His jaw was just as hard as the night prior, his features still set in stone. His peripheral vision was as good as any of the adventurers there- it could be no less after living such a dangerous life for so long. That meant he could definitely see Keldorn looking at him and simply refused to return the glance. The boy was going to be stubborn. Fine then.

Keldorn stuck one arm out, blocking the sorcerer's path. Greywulf glared heavily at the impediment, then met Keldorn's stern eyes. "What?"

He considered his words before speaking; the way Greywulf felt now, his options were limited. He ran the chances of each set of circumstances working through his head, and finally settled on the direct approach. "Greywulf, I cannot follow you any longer. I am leaving the party."

For the first time in a while, it seemed that the older man's words had actually made an impact on the young mage. His eyes flashed in surprise, not understanding as he tried to find the deeper meaning, unravel the reasons for why Keldorn was doing what he was doing. "What are you talking about?"

Keldorn glanced behind him, noting that the others were far enough back to be out of earshot... well, mostly out of earshot, but they had seen the beginnings of their altercation. None seemed willing to approach until it looked like it was over- just as well. He sighed, feeling the full weight of his sixty years in his shoulders, despite his magical Gauntlets. "When I first joined you, I did so because I believed that by following you I could accomplish the greatest good at the time. We did so; we ended the Cult of the Unseeing Eye together and I recognized how much good could be done if we remained together. I stayed because I felt that I could still perform the greatest good in your service."

"And this has changed?" Greywulf said, trying hard to keep his voice level, surprise quickly replacing itself with anger. "Do you believe I have fallen? Was my last transformation the final straw in your eyes?"

"You do not wish to know how close it came." Keldorn challenged, but he quickly removed any hint of antagonism from his voice. "No. I do not believe you have fallen. But I see your drive, your single-minded determination to restore Jaheira. It blinds you to everything around, to the reality of things you would see were you thinking clearly."

"Would you condemn me for trying to save the woman I love?" Greywulf's voice was a harsh whisper. "After we risked our lives against one dragon to avenge your family, you would abandon me against another?"

Keldorn's eyes narrowed; Greywulf could tell his words had struck a nerve. He did an excellent job of keeping it from his voice, but his eyes lost none of the intensity that Greywulf's comment had wrought. "You would risk all of our lives against a threat of such great magnitude while the lives of thousands of elves hang in the balance, awaiting the Lanthorn's return. If we go and fall in battle to this dragon and Shade Lord, who will save Suldenesselar from Irenicus? The course you hold to suggests the possible sacrifice of an entire city for one woman."

Greywulf did not speak for a moment; he merely glared as Keldorn continued. "At one point in the past I asked you if you had ever experienced love; the love of a woman that you knew you would spend the rest of your life with. At the time you answered no… I have no doubt of what your answer would be now. I understand all too well the pain you feel, the desire to do anything to get Jaheira back. I would have done anything if I felt it would have restored Maria to me."

"Then you know why I'm doing this." Greywulf shot back through gritted teeth. "If you understand so well, why are you leaving?"

"Because I am a paladin first... and I must still follow the path of the greater good." Keldorn turned from Greywulf for the first time since their conversation had begun. He stared into the distance, out into the eastern skies as the sun rose higher and higher above the mountain tops. "I understand why you are doing this, thus I cannot condemn what you do. I see the larger picture, thus I cannot follow your course. Somebody must bring the Rhynn Lanthorn to Elhan."

There was silence for a while longer, and when their eyes locked again, the tension had lessened, anger replaced by a sense of weary resignation. "I know we haven't always seen eye to eye, Keldorn… especially not lately. We've had our differences..." Greywulf paused for a moment, knowing he would only get one chance at this, one chance to persuade him. "But I need your help to get her back. You're right. This will be far more dangerous than I have a right to put us in right now. Your sword and skill could be what keeps us all alive and able to aid the elves."

"And my following you could also doom the whole city of Suldenesselar." Keldorn replied evenly, simply. "I wish you all of Tymora's blessing... but I will not go with you."

And with those few words, it was over. No more words needed be spoken. Neither men would yield, and neither expected the other to do so. The devotion each men felt for their cause was overwhelming... their unwillingness to yield made any further arguments from each other or others a waste of time. Greywulf turned and motioned for Imoen, turning his back to Keldorn as she approached.

"Will you meet us at the Umar Hills when you are done?" Greywulf asked quietly, directing it at the man without looking. "You can get a horse from the elven war camp; it should only be a half day's ride by mount."

"Nay, the elves will want to set out for Suldenesselar as soon as the Lanthorn is theirs." Keldorn shook his head. Of course the paladin would have thought of that, Greywulf thought bitterly. He thought of everything. "I will try and convince them to wait for you before they strike Suldenesselar. If I cannot, I will do my best to follow their path so that I may lead you and the others there when you arrive."

Greywulf smiled weakly as Imoen arrived at his side, a hint of worry on her face as she glanced back and forth between the two men. "Imoen… give him the Lanthorn."

"What's goin' on? Why do you need-"

Keldorn cut her questions off, for his sake as much as Greywulf's. "I will not be accompanying you to the Umar Hills… the reasons are not important right now. Time is of the essence."

"I will explain later." Greywulf said softly, if only to answer Imoen's unceasingly curious nature. "Just… give him the Lanthorn."

Imoen frowned but did as he asked, pulling the Rhynn Lanthorn from her pack and giving it to Keldorn. "I hope you two know what yer doing. All I know is that a Shadow Dragon won't be easy to beat. I've still got scars from our meeting with Firkraag."

"I have absolute faith in your capabilities, Imoen." Keldorn said with a weary smile as he tousled her hair, the thief-mage quickly trying to duck away. "I look forward to seeing your return at the elven war camp… all of you. I will rejoin you then, if that is your wish."

Greywulf did not answer, just turned away and motioned for the others to follow. Minsc, Aerie, Solaufein and Imoen followed him, all sparing a glance at Keldorn before leaving. He watched them disappear into the distance of the plains, his face expressionless. He knew Greywulf would be explaining the situation even now. He knew they would berate the sorcerer for his decision to let the paladin leave, especially for not giving them a chance to say anything about it.

He turned and began his own journey, knowing what Greywulf's responses to their arguments would be, knowing that in the end, like always, they would follow his lead. They would follow him, even into almost certain death. In another time, in another place... he would've done the same. Would've followed Greywulf without question. Not this time. Not in this place. And maybe, Keldorn feared as he began the lonely march back to the elven war camp, maybe not ever again.

_Author's Post Script: The text from the three books Aran Linvail reads out of is taken straight from in-game books. Just in case anyone wondered._


	90. Part 3: Nothing to Fear

"The town of Imnesvale… we will rest here for a brief time, just long enough to gather our strength for the trip to the Temple Ruins and to restock our supplies." Greywulf said grimly as they entered the outskirts, the outer lying farms of the Umar Hills.

It had taken them a full day-and-night march to reach the Umar Hills, and the sun had just managed to clear the horizon as they continued onward. Minsc nodded at Greywulf's command while carrying Jaheira's body. The vampirism that had infected her left the corpse cold and pale, yet free from rotting or decaying. Greywulf shuddered once as he looked upon the body, turning his head quickly. His hand brushed past the wooden stake he carried, still hanging at his side. Just like that which had impaled his love… he shook the thought from his head.

Still, Bodhi was dead- truly and forever dead. Imoen had her soul returned to her, and the change was apparent. Her face had not been so bright and hopeful since before their initial capture, and he could not have asked for more comfort from his newly restored sister. She kept a respectful tone because of the circumstances with Jaheira, but he could tell that if she were alive, Imoen's joy would know no bounds. He smiled weakly as he glanced back at her, chatting with Aerie a bit as they walked. The elf and his sister had grown to be good friends in the short time they had known each other, and spent much of their time talking while they journeyed. Much of the subject matter, he was certain, involved him, watching them look his direction every now and then while Imoen giggled and Aerie turned red, trying not to meet his gaze.

He found himself growing angry, even though there was no reason for it. He knew they all regretted what had happened. He knew each of them felt the loss of their comrade. As the one who led their group, he should have been encouraging their attempts to keep spirits high, to restore some life and energy to the group. Instead, he found himself bitter and angry, unwilling to let the knot of rage and pain in his chest dissipate. It had cost them Keldorn's company already- if he did not find a way to let it go soon, it would cost them even more. He inhaled deeply, trying to cleanse himself of the dark emotions he was plagued with. It helped a little... but not nearly enough. He gritted his teeth, pushing all thoughts beside the mission away. He'd find time for healing later.

Imoen sighed as a laugh died from her lips, watching Greywulf at the lead. He had almost, for a brief moment, looked like his old self. Just for a brief second, he looked like he might be letting his pain go... but to no avail. His shoulders were set again, his face resolute. Aerie caught her glance curiously, then traced it to Greywulf. She nodded in solemn realization. "Do you think we've made him angry?"

"Nah..." Imoen shook her head, bending down to snatch a violet from the ground. She twiddled it by the stem between her thumb and index finger for a moment, then tucked it behind Aerie's delicately pointed ear with a sad smile. "He just needs more time, that's all."

"I hope so." Aerie returned the smile, glancing up at the flower Imoen had placed in her hair. She looked back at Greywulf, her mind flashing through the memories she'd made with the sorcerer. "He's a good man, I know it. I just... he's changed. He's not the same guy he used to be. Not like when we first met. He was so gentle... so warm and caring. I could talk with him for hours about anything..."

"But he's not the same now. I know. I've felt it. It's the loss of his soul." Imoen said, her eyes tracing Greywulf's outline as she spoke, her brow knit in the rising light of the morning. "It's... it's hard to describe. Happiness, joy, it's all still there, just... fuzzy, kinda. Out of focus. Like when you can't quite remember something... or when a word is on the tip of your tongue but it just won't come to you. That's just the beginning though. Eventually it gets further and further away until you know what you should be feeling- you know the emotions that should come to you, they just don't. Eventually you begin to forget..."

Imoen paused again, considering how to continue her words. She brushed a lock of hair behind her ear, scratching the back of her head in the same motion. It was hard to think about the times without her soul... not because it was difficult to remember, but more because of the other memories it drudged up along with it. Her time in Spellhold. The tortures she'd suffered at the hands of Irenicus. The visions became more and more intense until she forcibly squeezed her eyes shut, banishing the memories to a far corner of her mind.

"Imoen?" Aerie's voice brought her from the self-inflicted battle she'd thrown herself into. She blinked in surprise and looked up at Aerie, sighing in relief as she looked upon her friend's worried countenance. "Er... sorry, Aerie. Just got caught up for a minute. Let's talk more later, okay?"

Her termination of the conversation was taken in the context it was meant; Aerie nodded and leaned in to embrace Imoen lightly, then quickened her pace to reach Minsc. Imoen watched her companion go, sighing gently. She enjoyed talking with the Avariel, truly she did... it was just that sometimes she needed to be alone. Needed to look inside herself. Needed-

She narrowed her eyes, feeling the familiar gaze of someone staring at her. She glanced behind her, glaring lightly at the cloaked figure of Solaufein, following behind. Still, even with his cloak on and the distance that separated them, she could easily tell that his eyes were fixed on nothing but her. She purposefully stopped for a moment, long enough for the drow to come to her side. She fell in step with him, matching his gaze, though she let herself take a little pleasure in the fact that he seemed slightly unnerved. "Well? Ya just gonna stare or say what you're thinking?"

"I... excuse me, Imoen." Solaufein's voice was strangely apologetic, although his scarlet gaze did not waver. With each moment, the drow seemed to withdraw deeper into the cloak he wore, his features becoming even more indistinguishable in the shadows. Just when she thought he would never speak, his deep baritone finally issued from the darkness within. "I simply wished to apologize for before. Back in the city..."

"Huh?" Imoen frowned in confusion. Her mind traced through all the time they'd spent in Athkatla, in the guild hall... when had he done anything worthy of an apology? "I don't understand."

"When we were in the lair of the Shadow Thieves." Solaufein clarified; if possible, it seemed that he was withdrawing from her even further. "I was... insensitive, to your grief. For that I apologize."

"That?" Imoen asked, finally understanding. "We were all on edge... it's totally understandable."

He nodded slightly, and Imoen thought for a brief moment he would leave it at that and slip back and away from her; he stayed by her side despite the discomfort he was obviously experiencing. Solaufein slipped his hood off with an exhalation of breath, his white hair blowing gently in the breeze of the morning. "I am not a surfacer, Imoen. The drow do not show weakness, or remorse, or pity. These are all things I am learning to let go, as I watch you and the others. I simply wish you to know that... I am trying. That's all."

She listened for a moment… then sighed with a smile and a shake of the head. Perhaps she would have said something clever or cute, but any further conversation was interrupted- shouts of warning and fear echoed from the tops of the buildings that were within distance, easily visible before them. Solaufein's keen eyes picked out a face in the uppermost window of the wooden structure that was set before them; it was one of terror and fear as the man looked upon the approaching adventurers. Something was wrong-

His eyes widened as he saw the rest of the windows fill with men and women, each one armed with a bow. They drew back their weapons as Solaufein blurted a warning; Greywulf, Imoen, Minsc and Aerie all looked up just in time to see a hail of arrows descend upon them from above.

X X X X X X

Keldorn could not suppress a sigh of relief as he reached the apex of the hill overlooking the elven war camp that guarded the entrance to the Underdark. A full day's march, but finally complete. At another time he might've tried to stay unnoticed for as long as possible, not wanting to alarm the elves, but he was certain that the elves had spotted him long before he would have noticed their scouts; there was little point in him trying to hide or be discreet about his approach. In fact, two silver armored guards were approaching, certain to escort him back to Elhan's command tent. Keldorn kept his walk brisk, trying to think of the words to say ahead of time. The others would have arrived at the Umar Hills a little while ago, making their locations about two days march apart. Even if he wanted to go and aid Greywulf, it would be too late now. The tension in the war camp remained thick; though there were no sounds of battle from the entrance to the Underdark now, the archers and swordsmen remained on guard at all times. It would not be easy to persuade the elves to wait for Greywulf and the others… if they even survived to return.

Keldorn exhaled as he thought of the five companions who were even now in the Umar hills. As much as he would have liked to aid their efforts, he could not bring himself to do it. And even if he did not admit it to himself, there was an increasing amount of doubt within his mind about Greywulf. The Slayer had found a way out of him twice now since the initial experiences in Spellhold. It would keep searching, prodding his armor until it found another exit, another way to force itself on the world. And at the same time, he knew that if the time came, the time for Keldorn to do what was necessary and strike down the evil that engulfed Greywulf… he was not sure he could do it. Not merely physically, but willfully as well. Jaheira had been an encouragement, an ally to help keep his resolve strong for this task if it should come. Perhaps leaving was a way of avoiding this duty, of placing it out of his hands so that he would not have to deal with it.

He shook his head in mock humor. He had never abandoned his duty before, especially not one of such magnitude. If he dug down deep enough… he left because he knew. He knew how deep the pain was that would drive a man to the lengths Greywulf was going to. Enough that he would order those he called friends into almost certain death if only for the chance of seeing his beloved once more. He prayed for Greywulf's safe return and for Jaheira's as well… but his duty was now elsewhere.

They finally arrived at Elhan's war tent, the weary elf commander standing with great anticipation as he awaited Keldorn's arrival. He frowned as he saw that Keldorn was alone, nodding once in acknowledgment.

"You return… though it is but you before me, paladin. Has the price of victory been so high that all your companions are dead?"

"Nay, we lost but one in that dreaded fight." Keldorn paused, his brow creased as he thought about the others- no. Out of his hands now. "But as you say, victory was ours this day. The Rhynn Lanthorn is yours once again."

Elhan's eyes lit up as he took hold of the ancient artifact, the Lanthorn gleaming in the noontide sun. A small, cooling breeze took hold of Elhan's hair, letting the locks blow gently as though nature itself approved of the return of the Lanthorn. He held it high, closing his eyes as a smile crossed his handsome features. He inhaled deeply, and then nodded in satisfaction as he looked back at the paladin. "You cannot know how much good you have done here, Keldorn. My and all of Suldenesselar's thanks go to you and your companions. We are finally ready to bring this battle back to Suldenesselar. How long until the rest of your group rejoins us here?"

Keldorn did not answer immediately, thinking and estimating the scenario he knew his comrades faced. Giving him a time too short would only hurt his case when it came and passed without their return; giving him a time too long would only discourage him from staying. As always, honesty would be the best option. "I cannot say... not exactly. Factoring in travel time, I should think they will be here in a week's time, assuming they are victorious in their ventures."

Elhan frowned and shook his head immediately, turning and walking back towards a different part of the camp; Keldorn followed close behind, alarmed at Elhan's quick refusal. "No, no… we cannot wait that long. He has at the most a day. We must leave as soon as possible."

"A day?" Keldorn recoiled at the news. "Elhan, there is no possible way that they can reach here by tomorrow morning. They are near the Umar Hills; if they left now it would be at least two days. Please reconsider."

"Keldorn, our people our dying. _My_ people are dying. You are not elf-kind and I do not expect you to understand; the wars between humans come and go like the seasons." Elhan pointed out, audibly trying to keep disdain from his voice. "The wars and battles of elves are serious, coming but once in a millennia. We cannot wait; our men and camp will be packed up and ready to move by tomorrow at noon."

Keldorn mentally cursed, trying to find the words, the diplomacy to convince him otherwise. "I understand more than you know, Elhan. More importantly, you know first hand how powerful Irenicus is. If he's taken Suldenesselar, don't you think it would be wise to have with you the men and women who defeated his most trusted ally?"

Elhan paused for a moment, as though considering what the paladin said. He turned, his green cloak whirling with the sudden movement as he pointed toward the blockade set at the Underdark entrance. "Your words hold merit, but I cannot change our course. You think I do not want to wait; it is that we cannot wait. While the attacks by the drow have all but ended, they still skirmish enough to cause us problems. Our supplies have dwindled, our manpower is almost spent. If we are to have any men able to fight in the battle to retake Suldenesselar, we must go now. We simply do not have the men or the supplies necessary to stay here any longer."

"What of your allies?" Keldorn asked, running through every possible option in his mind. This would be more difficult than he had thought. "Letherel, or the Wood Elves of Tethyr? Can they spare no more of their own? Surely they realize the ramifications if Suldenesselar is lost."

"They have given more than we asked for already." Elhan responded with a hint of bitterness, showing how reluctant the elven commander had been to accept help in the first place. "We will receive nothing more from them and our only other ally within distance is still not responding to our requests for help. Our last two envoys did not return; we cannot spare the time or effort on a third."

His words ignited a final spark of hope in the older man's spirit; Keldorn jumped on the small piece of information immediately. "What do you speak of? Where are these allies?"

"The druid grove near Trademeet." Elhan explained, narrowing his eyes as he realized what Keldorn was thinking. "But I doubt you could do anything our own envoys could not. They have long been our allies, but in our greatest time of need they have abandoned us. Even if you could bring reinforcements and supplies from the druids, the time granted to us would be minimal at best- we must leave soon. It matters little in the end. They will not come."

"Wait." Keldorn commanded, raising a hand as his still keen mind analyzed the time and distance necessary to travel. "If I were to travel to the druid grove, find out why they have not sent you aid, and bring it back with me… would that buy the others the time that they needed to get here for the march on Suldenesselar?"

The gold-armored elven commander glared at Keldorn for a long few moments, turning the choices and options over in his head. "It is a great risk for minimal gain, Keldorn. We could not stay for too much longer, even if we did have their men. It would serve as a buffer against any other drow incursions for the most part…"

"How much time?" Keldorn pushed, folding his arms across his broad chest, letting the full weight of his commanding presence lend itself to his argument.

With a sigh, Elhan closed his eyes and nodded, obviously reluctant. "Four days. I can give no more than that. And if you expect us to wait for that length of time, you must deliver the aid by noon tomorrow. If you have not returned, we will begin the assault… and all of you, despite what any of us might want, will be left behind."

"I understand." Keldorn said grimly, glancing toward the elven steeds that were stabled on the far side of the encampment. "Lend me a horse and the full day's time and I swear you shall have your help. I understand Trademeet is to the southeast, less than a half-day's ride from here?"

"And another hour's length or so to the druid grove from there." Elhan said, motioning for one of the elven scouts to bring his horse over. The two men did not speak, but merely stared each other down, as though taking the measure of the other. When the horse finally arrived, Elhan extended a hand to Keldorn, nodding grimly. "You will have little or no time to accomplish this, paladin… may the gods watch over you."

Keldorn shook his hand before the elven scout helped Keldorn mount the horse, finally settling in the noble beast's saddle. "They always have, for some reason. They always have…"

X X X X X X

"I... I am terribly sorry. Please, had we known who you were, we would never have attacked like that..." the heavy-set man wringing his hands before them looked ready to collapse as he tried to apologize again, despite the fact he had done so every few seconds since the party had entered his house. Greywulf sighed, glancing down at his cloak, a hole punctured through the left side of it. Fortunately for them, that was the only arrow that had come remotely close to hitting them.

What the archers in the house lacked in accuracy, they made up for in numbers. The sheer volume of arrows flying from the windows of almost every house on the perimeter of the town would have been enough to strike at least one of them, had Aerie not been able to distract them with a False Dawn spell. The spell of light had an unexpected consequence; aside from blinding their attackers, it also brought attention to the fact that they weren't shadows, monsters, or any other form of terror come to destroy their town. Greywulf forced a smile back onto his face as he looked at the trembling Minister of Imnesvale. "Calm yourself, please. We've already told you that we're not here to hurt you. In fact, from what we gathered listening to your townsfolk, we might be here to help."

"Truly? Oh, but that would wonderful. A godsend, even!" Lloyd, the minister of the town, finally forced himself to sit. "You see, our town isn't like this all the time... it was our ranger's idea. Merella... she suggested that we keep sentries with bows at the tops of our outermost buildings so we could defend ourselves..."

"A ranger?" Minsc's ears perked up, the bald man leaning in to listen more carefully. "But why would a ranger of the forest tell the townspeople to stay in their houses and shoot arrows at nice people who come to visit? That is not ranger-like at all, no sir!"

Maybe the size or Minsc or the tone of his well-meaning question threw Lloyd off- regardless, he scooted away from Minsc, before Aerie placed one hand on the man's arm, calming him with her gentle smile and elven charm. "It's all right... just tell us what's going on. What's happening here?"

"I... yes, of course. Excuse me... things have just been so strained as of late. I- pardon me, but can I get a bed for your friend?" Minister Lloyd swallowed heavily as he glanced at Jaheira's body. "She looks... she looks so pale."

Greywulf bit back a response, then nodded. "If you wouldn't mind... she needs healing that we can't get here. Please, go ahead."

"Of course..." he nodded to his wife who had been listening from the other room- veritably huddled in fear at the outsiders, Imoen noticed with a frown- and she came in, leading Minsc who carried Jaheira and her equipment to a room elsewhere in their house. After watching the pair disappear, he turned back to the others, his whole body seeming to sag as he began his tale, head bowed and hands on his knees. "Our small town was founded many years ago, when magic and danger ruled this valley. We were a small town even then, and we avoided most of the battles and action that befell these hills. It was once watched over by a witch named Umar... but she changed. Became the bane of the village, rather than its protector. The legends say she stole children and performed dark rituals, using them as sacrifices until she was finally caught and burned for her evil."

The topic was obviously uncomfortable for the man- he glanced back and forth nervously, his whole body seemingly one mass of nerves. He looked out the window, as though assuring himself the sun was still in the sky, that night had not fallen yet. "They say Umar cursed this valley before her death... that it would forever be a place of great evil. You must understand, the folks here are very superstitious. The legends have been passed down for generations and whether this tale is truth or not, it rings as fact in the minds of every man and woman here."

"Even if it were not true to begin with, such a myth begs for someone with enough skill and wit to exploit it for his own gain." Solaufein remarked quietly.

"Precisely!" Minister Lloyd exclaimed, nodding vigorously. "That was the thought of my great-grandfather. He was a Minister of this village, just as my grandfather and my father. He hired a ranger to live a few miles from our village, supplying the cabin itself and any supplies necessary. All we wanted was a protector, something to fight the darkness that crept into our lands from time to time. We've always had a ranger to protect us... it has not been otherwise for three generations. The latest ranger of our village was Merella, a good woman who was well loved by everyone here. All had been quiet until nearly two months ago."

"Aye, that was when all the happenings began…" Lloyd's wife returned with Minsc, the woman shivering as she spoke. "I-I still remember the first of the incidents."

"Oh… ah, thank you Eira." Minister Lloyd smiled to his wife who left the room again, before turning back to the party. "The incidents…I- people began disappearing. It started with one or two who lived on the outskirts, in the farms. We sent a search party of our own to investigate, but... but when members of the search party vanished, we grew worried. We asked for Merella to investigate... and a day later she found a body. It had… it had been skinned. Almost turned inside out..."

Minister Lloyd stopped abruptly, a shade of green crossing his face as he actively fought to grow sick in front of these adventurers. He wasn't the only one in disgust though- death was a common occurrence for these men and women, but such gruesome deaths were not.

"S-skinned?" Aerie said in shock. "That's horrid!"

"It was the only body we found. Whatever killed these people took the bodies with them..." Lloyd swallowed, looking up at them helplessly. "Why? Food? Some sort of dark magic? We've never found another body... and then the worst of it all. Almost two weeks ago, Merella vanished. We haven't seen her since."

Silence ran through the home as the adventurers digested the chilling turn of events; Imoen was the first one to speak. "Have you found any clues? Any trace of what's doing all of this?"

"No... well, nothing solid." the Minister shook his head with gloom. "There have been sightings of wolves stalking around town, though all the accounts were unclear at best. There is a group of creatures led by an ogre named Madulf near town- they look like a few of those who used to belong to the rebel army in the south of Amn… deserters most likely. They have not caused any outright trouble since they arrived; they have even made overtures of trade, though most of the traders flee at the sight of the ogre. And of course… there are those who believe that it is Umar herself who has returned, come back to claim her hills once more. I've seen so much, I don't know what to believe or where to begin."

"So much evil and villainy… wolves, witches, ogres, who is to blame?" Minsc said in confusion. "Let Minsc's sword find the culprit!"

"We even tried hiring another troupe of adventurers to aid us in this matter; they haven't returned either. We fear the worst; it's been far too long since they left the town. Surely they would have returned if they knew anything."

"We have an idea… although there is enough confusion here that we'll check the cabin of Merella before we leave, if you don't mind." Greywulf frowned. "Are you aware of the temple in the woods north of here?"

"Eh? A temple… yes, I know there are some old ruins up there. The darkness runs thick there… most avoid that area if at all possible." Lloyd frowned, nodding slightly.

"It has been desecrated and infested with shadows and dark magics… I wouldn't doubt it's the source of your problems." the sorcerer said grimly. "A Shade Lord makes his residence there; if he is looking to bolster his army of darkness, he would need bodies to house some of his more powerful warriors."

The news of a Shade Lord was apparently new to Minister Lloyd. To be honest, he wasn't a warrior. He wasn't a particularly weak man, all things considered. Few would consider him cowardly. To live in a place with such a fearsome reputation as Imnesvale, one had to have some modicum of intestinal fortitude. Some measure of strength against the darkness. Thus, it came to everyone's surprise, including Minister Lloyd, when he fainted and collapsed on the spot.

X X X X X X

The disquieting stillness and black fog of the wood threatened Aerie more than any noise really would have, and though she was an elven mage and cleric of great power… she still had to quell that knot of fear that rose in her stomach every time the darkness grew and the evil they fought so often decided to hide itself in the shadows, rather than reveal itself in something resembling a fair fight. Even though Merella's cabin was less than a mile away now, the growing foreboding of this particular quest was growing on their mind more than ever. More so that they could not expect to fight any sort of force or enemy with Minsc handicapped, holding Jaheira's ashen figure in his arms.

After reviving Minister Lloyd and informing him of the full situation, the party had agreed that checking out Merella's cabin was their first and best source for any further information. Greywulf volunteered to stay behind with Jaheira's body, and Solaufein had stayed as well, if more for the well-being of the Minister and his wife than anything; after hearing of the evils that purportedly resided in the Temple to the north, they were thoroughly convinced that an army of shadows and fiends would be pouring into their village at any moment.

Still, it had taken a lot of convincing from Greywulf for Aerie not to volunteer to stay, but Minsc was not willing to let her out of his sight and there was no way they were going to check such a dangerous place without at least one primary warrior. Imoen had her ranged support to fall back on in case her magics failed, and so Greywulf was the obvious choice to stay. Still, it was the only time Aerie had been away from him since Minsc, Yoshimo and she went to take care of the business with Renal Bloodscalp and Mae'var. She had grown accustomed to his presence, his company- their relationship would never be more than friends, and she had told herself this so many times mentally... but there was still that tiny ember of hope within her that sparked every time he smiled at her, every time he laughed at something she said or gave her a quick hug of encouragement. She hadn't realized how much safer she felt when he was around as well- though it could have been the fog that they found themselves creeping through that chilled her so.

"Are you okay, Aerie?" Minsc's voice murmured to her through the murky cloud. She felt a quick sense of relief, knowing that her protector was so near. If anything, he would make sure she stayed safe.

"I-I'll be okay, Minsc. Let's just get this done as quickly as possible. I've heard stories from my people… this kind of place is just not for the Avariel."

"Psst! Look sharp, guys… I think we're here." Imoen's whisper got their attention as they peered into the clearing before them; the outline of an old wooden cabin slowly came into view amidst the backdrop of green and forest behind and all around. Minsc put his hand out to stop Aerie's forward progress, then slowly stepped in front of her, unsheathing the Sword of Chaos, its silvery edge gleaming just brightly enough to be visible in the shaded and foggy area. A slight crackle of leaves could be heard with each step the ranger took, moving closer to the foreboding structure before them. Imoen had put her back to the other two and watched their flank with her bow at ready position, her eyes enhanced by a quick infravision spell.

When they were only a few feet from the cabin's entrance, a slight breeze kicked up; it was enough to blow the door of the cabin, already a few inches ajar, open even further. The movement did not disturb them so much as the sound- the creaking of the door's swing sent a chill up Aerie's spine, despite herself. Minsc paused for a moment as though to await the attack of any creature that would come from the darkened portal before them, but none were forthcoming. All that remained before them was the open door and barely visible furnishings inside. After a few more tense seconds, Minsc stepped forward and entered the house, his head moving each direction quickly to ensure that the cabin was not an ambush of sorts. Aerie followed right behind him, Imoen still watching their flank finally passing in as well.

Minsc shut the door as Aerie summoned several multicolored globes of flaring light, each one bouncing and floating above her head, illuminating her and her surroundings in an oddly colored halo of light. The illumination revealed a mostly empty living quarters, what was probably the largest room in the cabin. It was apparently the kitchen, living room, and dining room all in one, with a single door leading elsewhere, probably to the bedroom. The luxuries were quite suited to a ranger's life, only the necessities present. One wooden chair stood by the small circular table near the wood stove and pantry. A few random items of silverware were still lying on the table, as though someone had eaten but not cleaned up afterwards. The fire in the pit had long since burned to nothing, but the stack of firewood in the corner was large enough to accommodate at least a winter's week. Even as they continued to take in the scene, Imoen's voice echoed through the stillness, "Merella! Are ya here? We're adventurers, sent to help!"

Aerie tightened her grip on the Flail of Ages, knowing that her sling would be of little use in such close quarters if an attack were to occur. When nothing happened, Imoen turned to the elf and ranger and shrugged. "Meh… figured if she was here, she probably wouldn't like finding us like we were trying to rob the place."

Before anybody could make a comment, Minsc's eyes narrowed and he knelt to the floor of the cabin, lightning quick. His hand reached down and brushed the tips of his large fingers against the wood boards, studying the dust and the imprints upon them. "What did you find, Minsc?"

Minsc did not respond to Aerie's initial whisper, but instead followed his eyes along a seemingly invisible path on the floor... to his ranger tracking skills, the trail was clear as day. He may have been loopy at most times, but nobody doubted the skills he possessed. Finally he stood, though his eyes remained fixed on the floor in front of him.

"There are strange tracks… the marks of an animal, but unlike them as well. It reminds Minsc of a wolf… but it is not the same."

"A werewolf, perhaps? Maybe a wolfwere?" Imoen suggested, trying to pick up the trail Minsc had found.

"No… this animal was on four feet… but it was different, changed somehow. We will follow further along."

He knelt down again and continued tracking the trail throughout the cabin, further into the main room. It was not long before they found it; if the light had been full they might have seen it right away. Aerie tried not to gasp or shake when she saw the beginnings of the bloodstains on the floor, smeared as they continued further on down the hall that led to the second room of the cabin. They were faint and ended there, but even at such a bad light they could see that it got thicker and messier the further back you went. Imoen took a deep breath even as she surveyed the inside of the suddenly much more sinister cabin.

Minsc stood and brought his sword to the guard position as he slowly stalked further down the hall, every now and then glancing down at the trail to see it growing redder and more severe. Flecks of blood splattered the walls around as they went further back, and gradually a distinct shape began to join the general smear lines; prints of an animal soaked in blood, gradually forming what appeared to be as Minsc had suggested, wolf… and yet not wolf. They finally reached the end of the corridor, the door half broken off its hinges. They stepped over the remains of the wooden barrier, its frame splintered into several pieces and scattered about the hallway. Aerie had done well so far, but she had to turn away at the sight and smell inside. It hit them as soon as they entered the room; the stench of death mixed with the strong, coppery odor of blood... far too much blood. The simple bed was drenched in it, the blankets and pillows shredded to rags. Bits of wood and gore were present in the main pile of reddened sheets as well as numerous flies and maggots, buzzing, squirming and zipping about the morbid mound of destruction.

"Baervan preserve us…" Aerie whispered as she forced herself to turn back, trembling as she looked at the grisly sight. "What happened?"

"I don't know and I'm not sure I wanna stay to find out." Imoen muttered, glancing up at the figure of Minsc, who was seemingly undisturbed, still studying the scene.

"She died here… a tragic death, with no chance to defend herself." he said with a grimace, studying the room quietly.

"How do you-"

"There… see her armor and weapons? They are still over there by the closet, with no sign of use or blood upon them. She was killed while sleeping… no way for a fellow ranger to perish. Boo condemns such a vile and dishonorable attack… vengeance will be swift for this Merella." Minsc growled, his eyes narrow and his anger palpable.

"But what happened then? This long smear of blood and the wolf prints… if that's what they are." Imoen questioned.

"Whatever killed Merella- it took the body afterwards." Minsc noted. "She was dragged out through the cabin… but why does the trail stop so abruptly? Minsc does not understand this part."

"Wait… there's something over there in the corner." Aerie said cautiously, slowly walking over as the Juggling Lights illuminated the item she was looking at. It was a small, leather bound book, flipped open and lying on its spine. Blood had spattered the open pages, but there was still plenty to read and easily decipherable. Aerie read with a tremulous yet determined voice:

_Flamerule 7:_

_Kaatje came to visit again. A sweet child, eager to learn my ways with the wild creatures._

_Flamerule 12:_

_Dark creatures roam the forests. Several townspeople have been slain by some unknown predator. Everyone seems to have their own opinion of what is doing the killing. The strangest thing is that the bodies are disappearing in the morning- only one has been found, and it was skinned... as grisly a death as I've ever seen. It is the only one I've found- and it leaves me baffled, for most signs point to a pack of wolves that have been in the area for a long time. Wolves don't steal bodies. They certainly don't skin them._

_Flamerule 13:_

_Or perhaps I should say wolf-like creatures. At night while I've been patrolling I've often caught shadowy glimpses of these 'wolves' running alongside me. I've tried to attract their attention but they ignore me. I find this most strange, as if the pack is being controlled by someone else. Years ago I spoke with the pack leaders and they were cordial. Now they either flee from me, or, and I fear to say this, they stalk me._

_Flamerule 21:_

_It is near noon and still the wood outside my cabin seems full of shadows. I've been hard pressed to hear birds and most of the larger animals have long fled. I plan to find the wolf's den this afternoon. I've drawn a map to it. All signs point to them as being the culprits, but what wolves act like these? They are wolves with the cunning of men._

_And there is something else, a whispering in my mind. It is faint now, in the waking hours, but while I sleep I dream only of this voice and the face behind it. Whether it is connected to the voices, I do not know. I suspect by the time that the sun sets tonight I'll have answers to my questions. I shall take time to rest now and leave at dusk._

She closed the journal with a quavering hand, and during the time it had taken her to read the last few entries of the journal it seemed that even the lights above Aerie's head had grown dim.

"The map she drew to the wolf lair… its right next to what she draws on the map. A ruin of some sort." Aerie swallowed.

"The temple." Imoen whispered.

"So then the wolves and the Shadows are connected somehow… but Merella never got the chance to find out how." the Avariel lurched as the sound of a wolf howling in the distance reached their ears. "We should get out of here."

"Yeah... yeah, let's get out of here." Imoen acknowledged, nodding with more than a hint of fear in her features as she tried to force a smile. "Let's get back to Imnesvale and tell Greywulf what we found… he'll know what to do."

"Minsc hopes so." the ranger looked down at the two girls; they saw him shiver, the first sign of fear he had given since they had arrived. "Wolves and shadows and magic; even Boo does not understand all of this. Minsc is not afraid of battle, but he cannot kill what he cannot see. Merella never saw them coming, either- and this frightens me."


	91. Part 3: Entering the Realm of Shadows

Keldorn had never been completely fond of horseback riding. Never. Even after dozens, perhaps hundreds of trips where the trek was too long to make by foot and it was a necessity. Miles and miles on the back of these steeds, ranging from hard and fast gallops to languid and leisurely paces that could have been outdone by a brisk walk. He had led dozens of knights and squires on horseback assaults, into and out of battle, trusting his very life to the steed he rode. It wasn't that he didn't know how, nor any problems with horses in general. He liked them well enough, and while he may have never gone so far as to name and take personal care of his steed as many men did, he gave them all the respect and care they deserved. All in all, horses were a strong resource and good companions in time of need. It didn't mean he had to like riding them.

He snorted, picturing the scene as the elven beastmaster had aided him mount the horse. Climbing onto the backs of these creatures was no easy task when wearing full plate mail, carrying a fully sized two-handed blade, and packing equipment weighing at least fifty pounds. Adding the heat of the sun, the stiffness of his armor after being set in one position for so long, and his ever increasing age... quite frankly, it simply wasn't a pleasant experience.

Keldorn suppressed a wry smile as he flicked the reins to his horse once, quickening his pace as he continued over the rolling plains and low hills on his way to the town of Trademeet. Here he was, a paladin of Torm whose devotion had no limits... and he was complaining about the hardships of riding in armor. If his old mentor could hear his thoughts now... he chuckled, shaking his head. The horse neighed softly, shaking its head as they continued along the faint dirt road that marked the way towards the easternmost city of Amn. Keldorn had been riding hard for the last few hours, and the steed needed a break; he'd have to rest the horse sometime soon. He lowered a gauntleted hand and stroked the horse's neck easily for a moment, then sat straight again- his eyes narrowed as he spotted a figure lying on the road ahead. "Hello there! Are you all right?"

The figure did not answer his call or even stir in response. Keldorn had to assume the worst; he stopped his horse quickly, and then swung himself out of the saddle and to his feet with a grunt of effort. Any thoughts of annoyance about getting into the saddle again were pushed aside. He strode to the facedown body- a young man clad in leathers from the look of it- and knelt to turn him over...

The lad grinned wickedly as Keldorn rolled him onto his back, revealing a crossbow that he had been hiding underneath his body when Keldorn approached. He pointed it directly at the older man's face, already moving to distance himself from the paladin as Keldorn's blood cooled, realizing how he had been taken in. As soon as there was a short yet reasonable distance between the two, the young thief scrambled to his feet. "Hah! Gotcha good, didn't I? Suppose it'll teach y'to help every stranger ye find on the roadside, eh?"

Keldorn did not answer; he simply folded his arms, studying the lad. He was younger than he first appeared- certainly no more than eighteen or nineteen. Judging by the condition of his clothing, the frame of his body, and the finish of his crossbow... he was certain that he was dealing with one of two possibilities. One: the young man was an extraordinarily skilled bandit, who garnered enough coin to keep his leather in like-new condition, have his crossbow polished and cleaned fairly often, and eat well enough to keep his frame full and scarcely wanting. Two: he was dealing with an inexperienced fool, who had just recently decided to make his living by taking from others what he was too lazy or incompetent to earn himself, and had conceived of a 'brilliant' scheme to prey on the unwary travelers who were constantly coming to and from Trademeet.

The young man apparently took Keldorn's silence as either awe or fear- either way, he only grinned further and gestured with his crossbow, letting it drift and float this way and that, never staying on Keldorn for more than a second at a time. "I betch'er scared, right old man? Wanna know who yer losin all yer gold to?"

Keldorn fought to keep a smirk from showing. Instead, he simply cocked his head, nodding for him to continue. "But of course. Who is this terrible brigand who has beset me, eh?" _Definitely possibility number two._

"I'm Nai! Nai the Bandit!" he declared, smug triumph crossing the would-be bandit's face as he stared down the paladin. His posture, the way he declared his name and 'title', even his smug grin... it was all too much. Keldorn couldn't hold back the laugh that escaped his lips. Naturally, it only served to frustrate and enrage the oh-so-imposing brigand who had Keldorn cornered. "Oy! What do you think you're laughing at, old man? I could put a bolt through yer heart in a second! Now hand over all your gold or I'll take it from yer corpse!"

The crossbow was once more firmly pointed in Keldorn's general direction, though it was aimed nowhere near his heart... more of a gut shot, Keldorn noted. Still, it wouldn't do to simply let this pass. And the boy was probably quick enough to get that shot in before he drew the Hallowed Redeemer at this distance. That left outthinking his opponent- a prospect Keldorn didn't find particularly challenging. He still refused to move, simply glaring at Nai with the full weight of his years and experience. Nai seemed vaguely unsettled by the intense stare- more of a reaction than the paladin had really expected- before closing the distance between the two. Just what he had hoped for, Keldorn noted, as the bandit shoved the crossbow into Keldorn's breastplate, bursting with machismo. "Didn't you hear me? I said to get your gold before I put-"

"A bolt through my heart, I know." Keldorn cut him off, keeping his voice even and level as he glanced down at Nai's weapon. "Incidentally, your current position would put a bolt through my side. Hardly pleasant, but survivable for the next few moments. Long enough for me to cut your head off with my sword."

"You gonna try it? Didn't think you were that stupid." Nai growled, leaning in to appear more threatening. Unfortunately, the height difference between him and Keldorn only meant he had to tilt his head up further to meet Keldorn's gaze. The paladin sighed, raising one hand to point towards the crossbow.

"Son, you realize that I could disarm you at best, ensure you miss your shot at worse, before you even blink? You realize what the point of a crossbow is, yes? To dispatch your foes from a distance? Putting your weapon to my chest only gives me that much more of an opportunity to kill you without risking harm to myself."

Nai blinked once, then glanced downward towards his crossbow as though to see if Keldorn was telling the truth- the paladin's hands were a blur, augmented by the Gauntlets of Dexterity. The weapon was out of Nai's hands and tossed behind Keldorn in an instant as he crossed his arms again, glaring down at the bandit. "You're a bandit? So far, I'm not impressed."

Nai's face scrunched up with anger as he realized what had been done to him- he swung a fist, an attack which Keldorn easily blocked with a wrist, giving his foe a short but firm push with the other hand. It sent him to his rear, skidding slightly in the dust road. Nai spat a curse as he got to his feet, reaching around to his side to draw a sword. "You think yer funny?! Nobody mocks Nai the Bandit! I'll gut you where you stand!"

"You think so? Very well then. I'll give you a chance to prove it." Keldorn sighed, letting both arms drop to his waist, empty-handed. Perhaps it was a foolish move, but he sincerely doubted that the boy posed any real threat to him. And maybe, if his stunt worked, he might be able to work this out without killing the young fool.

"What kinda trick is this?" Nai growled, confusion crossing his face as he inched closer to Keldorn. The older man shrugged, still not moving from the spot he had been in since they had begun their 'standoff'. "You think I'm stupid or something?"

Keldorn resisted the urge to reply, but simply stood and waited. Finally the boy's courage managed to return to him, or his rage got the better of him. Either way, he rushed Keldorn, thrusting his sword out to impale the man on the tip of his shiny, unused blade. An obvious telegraph of his attack- Keldorn sidestepped easily, reaching out with one hand to grab his wrist, using the other to jam on the back of his elbow. It wasn't a hard enough blow to break Nai's arm, but it allowed Keldorn to direct his slide into the ground, squeezing tightly enough on Nai's wrist before he let go so that the boy would release his sword. He came up in dirt and dust, fumbling for his sword in rage, only to hear the unsheathing of Keldorn's blade. He looked up in fear, seeing the gleaming steel of the Hallowed Redeemer at his throat.

Keldorn held the Blade of Torm at Nai's throat for a few seconds, narrowing his eyes as he stared into the boy's fear-filled features... he exhaled and flipped the tip of the blade up. He grimaced at the bandit who was still motionless, unsure of what was happening. Keldorn gripped the sword with one hand, then held it outstretched from his body, showing the hilt and the blade to his opponent. "Do you know where I got this sword, boy? Do you recognize the markings on it?"

He didn't wait for him to answer; Keldorn simply sighed, examining the hilt as it glistened in the sunlight. "It was a gift from Torm himself, for my service to him in battle. This armor I wear? Made from the scales of a red dragon that I and my companions slew. These gauntlets? Magical armor that give me the agility and stamina of a man in his prime."

Nai visibly swallowed; still he glanced toward his blade lying a few feet away. "You're an old liar! You expect me to believe all that?!"

"I expect you to close your mouth, to drop this act of so-called courage, and to listen to the man who holds your life in his hands!!" Keldorn thundered, his voice bellowing out with all the authority and power he could muster. "I am a paladin of the Radiant Heart, a servant of Torm! I wear the armor of dragons, wield a sword of the gods, and draw upon the strength of righteousness! I've fought armies of the undead, killed giants and ogres by the dozens, and led thousands of men into battle at a time! Over the past five months, I've faced beholders, mind flayers, drow, sorcerers, vampires, and dragons! I've been injured, wounded, and nearly killed more than once by these creatures, and I'm still standing. They are not! And now you... you want to make a quick handful of gold. You want to steal the efforts of others and line your pockets with the spoils of your cowardice. You've never even killed a man before, have you?!"

Nai's mouth opened and closed, his eyes filled with fear as he tried to speak- nothing came out. Keldorn's face curled in disgust- he pointed his sword at Nai once again with a flourish. "I thought not. You want your first kill? To start your career as a bandit off right, picking on the old and infirm? Do it, young fool! Try and strike me, if you dare!"

Finally, Nai managed to speak, his voice only a faint whisper, tremulous and paper-thin. "Please don't kill me..."

Keldorn looked down at the whimpering lad- he leaned over and pulled the trembling would-be bandit to his feet and brought him to eye level. Keldorn's voice dropped, entering a gravelly and dark tone that chilled the listener to his bones. "I shall show you mercy. Other knights or adventurers would be much less inclined to let you live. You will go back home to your family, or your town, and no matter where you end up, you will never try and do something like this again. Do I make myself clear?"

Nai didn't speak or make any sort of indication he had heard Keldorn for a moment, simply staring with terror into Keldorn's piercing gaze- "Do I?!"

His head bobbed up and down quickly, blurting out apologies and pleas for forgiveness. Keldorn's fist unclenched as he let the boy go, his legs scrambling to take him as far from the paladin as he could go, making a beeline back towards Trademeet. Keldorn watched him stumble and fall repeatedly, quickly getting up and continuing his retreat. Yes, he'd scared the wits out of the boy and done a bit of boasting that was quite unlike him... but hopefully he'd taught the lad a thing or two. With any luck, he'd be too frightened of encountering a less merciful version of Keldorn to ever try and continue his career as a brigand. The paladin sighed, wandering over to the crossbow that Nai had dropped. He'd not yet replaced the one which had been broken during the skirmish they'd had with the orcs on the road to De'Arnise Keep.

He knelt and examined the craftsmanship of the weapon, testing the strength of the string and the size of the weapon's ammunition. He'd always favored smaller crossbows as a general rule, citing they were easier to carry alongside a two-handed blade, and useable with one hand if necessary. Finding the loop where he usually tied the stock of the crossbow to his waist, Keldorn fiddled with his newly acquired weapon for a moment, before he heard the sound of a familiar voice, imperious and regal, yet warmer than he remembered. "Interesting... I would have simply killed the fool and been done with it."

Keldorn turned, mentally noting that he'd been snuck up on and taken by surprise twice now and the last half-hour. Not the greatest precedent to be setting. The woman who faced him was tall and silver haired, her eyes piercing and somehow... reptilian. The simple robes of silver shimmered like the glassy seas, glimmering to his eyes. It only took a moment to place the voice to the features, and to whom he had last seen wearing them. The human form of Lady Adalon, silver dragon of the Underdark.

He bowed in respect, letting a smile creep across his aging features. "I have hope for the human spirit, my lady. Perhaps it is a failing, but not one I would wish to rid myself of anytime soon."

Adalon nodded for him to straighten up, resting one long-nailed hand on his shoulder pauldron. "And perhaps I have spent too much time in the darkness. A change of scenery... time spent in the surface world once again, perhaps I shall become as foolishly optimistic as you, paladin. Nonetheless, I did not expect to find you alone. Dare I ask where the rest of your companions have gone?"

Her words made the man consider his friends, and what trouble they were most certainly in right then. No... he had no time to worry about what might have been, or if he had made the right decision. It was done and gone, and even Adalon couldn't change the past. "They are... occupied. I elected to return the Rhynn Lanthorn to the elves alone, although their insistence on leaving so soon has left me with little choice but to find new allies to delay their departure."

Adalon eyed him, as though judging and questioning the information he had not-so-subtly kept hidden. Such as where his companions were at and what they were doing. He decided to cut her off, deflecting any further inquires on those lines. "If I may be so bold, lady Adalon, why have you sought me out? Do you bring some sort of news or aid?"

The dragon smiled and shook her head wryly. "Of a sort, my overly naive, overly honorable paladin. You gave me your word in the Underdark that you would reclaim my eggs for me, and so you did. It is rare that I have met an honorable being such as yourself. I shall repay you in kind. For your first question, yes, I do have information. For the second, I bring aid, but not the kind you are expecting."

"Anything you can do for us is most appreciated, my Lady. The elves are suffering, and could definitely use your support against the drow-" Keldorn started, raising an arm to gesture toward the direction of the elven encampment.

"Which they will not have." Adalon interrupted, her eyes flickering briefly with the power contained in her human shell. "My young must be kept safe, and I take a great risk right now leaving my eggs in the Windspear Hills. On your recommendation, I have allowed Garren Windspear to safeguard them in my absence, but I cannot be gone long. I shall not allow another incident to endanger them."

"He is a worthy man… you will not be disappointed." Keldorn said confidently, smiling briefly as he thought of the former Lord of the Windspear Hills.

"We shall see when I return." Adalon arched a pencil-thin eyebrow. "As I'm sure you know, you are not being told everything. The elves, Elhan... all of them are withholding information you will need to combat Irenicus and win. Interrogate them when the rest of your fellow companions return; make sure you do not enter battle unprepared."

"Do you know what it is that they hide from us?" Keldorn asked carefully, sensing trepidation and hesitation in the words of the silver lady. Unlike her, to say the least.

"I... I cannot say." Adalon finally managed, hr mouth twisting in either irritation or a flicker of pain. "An oath of binding prevents me… the gods themselves have intervened to keep me from aiding you too much."

Her words were familiar, or at the very least similar. It only took Keldorn a moment to remember who had told them the same. "That is the same thing that Dianya of Letherel told Greywulf. Do the gods truly care so much of this Irenicus? Does he threaten them with his plans?"

"Irenicus? No, not in the least." Adalon snarled, her disgust and anger at the thief of her eggs evident in the rippling of her robes, the anger in her eyes. "It is the path of this Bhaalspawn that gives the divines reason to pause. So much rests upon his shoulders- his and Imoen. They will be in the center of the battle for Bhaal's power, and it is a careful balance in the heavens as we speak. Too much meddling by... for example, Mystra or even I would lead to the interference of one such as Cyric or Shar. His destiny must be found on his own and with only the aid of the mortals he chooses to surround himself with. Such is the decree of Ao."

Keldorn swallowed, feeling his pulse quicken. He had known Greywulf was powerful and had great things to decide in the future, but the very gods battling over his destiny… it was hard to comprehend. He doubted even the boy himself knew how much was expected of him. Suddenly leaving the young man's side seemed far less of a good idea. "We will heed your advice, Lady Adalon. Greywulf and the others should come from the Umar Hills within a few days…"

"The Umar Hills?" Adalon queried sharply, her head whirling as she fixed her stare upon the paladin. "Does he venture near the fallen temple of Amaunator?!"

Keldorn felt himself falter under her harsh glare and words, cursing his slip of their location. He quickly mustered himself again and spoke, "Aye… he seeks to restore Jaheira from a death while infected with vampirism. A tome we read spoke of a way to do this by the power of the Sun god."

"He takes great risk." Adalon growled, the deep tones of her regal, draconic tones echoing through her human form. "One of my kin was corrupted many years ago and now stands guard in the halls of that accursed Temple. The Shade Lord that commands him has amassed an army far too large to simply assault and hope to destroy. Why did you not go with him?!"

"He refused to bring the Lanthorn back before setting out for the Umar Hills." Keldorn found himself defending his actions once more, refusing to budge under the weight of Adalon's suddenly accusing glare. "Nobody would have been able to return to Elhan should we have failed."

Silence drifted between the two of them for a moment- finally, the dragon stiffened visibly. Keldorn realized quickly that it was not displeasure, but fear. Fear at what Irenicus could do if Greywulf did not survive. "Adalon… what is Irenicus trying to do? What is he doing in Suldenesselar? This goes beyond revenge, theft, or murder; what is his plan?"

Adalon did not answer for a moment, but instead averted her eyes from meeting his. Somehow, that worried him more than anything she had said or done prior. "That is not for me to tell you- simply know that if he is not stopped, if you and your companions do not return and stop him… not just Faerun, all of Toril will suffer."

"Then it will be done. We shall bring his evil to the grave. You have my word." Keldorn let himself smile at the dragon, Adalon nodding in satisfaction.

"Indeed... and your word is trustworthy, as I well know. Still, you will need help for the dangers ahead. To that end, I have brought aid." Adalon smiled widely as her form shifted and warped, morphing into the great beast of silver that she was. She reared up on her hind legs and extended one claw, closed tightly. "Irenicus' spells and protections are powerful. They will take more power than you possess to break through them and strike at the source. I offer you that power here and now! Behold, Carsomyr, the Holy Avenger!!"

Her claw opened, revealing the two-handed blade held inside. Keldorn stepped back in shock and awe, eyes wide as he gazed at the legendary artifact. The staggered blade was over three and a half feet long, shimmering with gold runes that were etched up and down the full length. The handle was flanged and studded with rubies and diamonds, with an exceptionally large pearl that sat in the pommel. Gold and silver lined the edges of the hilt, and even from a distance, the holy magic was palpable to his senses. Adalon lowered her hand, offering the weapon to Keldorn.

"You... you would offer me this weapon?" Keldorn breathed quietly, his hands shaking just slightly as he took the weapon from her, looking up and down the blade as though to assure himself that it was real. "Every legend, every tale I read of this weapon and its righteous magic... it is more beautiful and powerful than I could ever have imagined."

"Yes… a treasure found amidst the hoard of Firkraag that you offered me. He could never have wielded such a weapon, so he undoubtedly kept it locked away, hoping it would never be used against him." Adalon explained, offering him a customized scabbard with her other hand. "The most holy of weapons on Faerun, unwilling to be used in battle except by a true paladin- I offer it to you in the knowledge that you will not carry it lightly. The power it contains will dispel the magics of Irenicus with a blow, letting you shatter his defenses with a swing of the blade. It will also shield you from the magical attacks of Irenicus… to a point. It will not win the battle for you, but it will make your fight that much easier in the end. Use it wisely, Sir Keldorn."

"I am unworthy of such a gift, lady Adalon." Keldorn uttered, sheathing the blade. "I thank you for it... but I dare not use but in the most desperate of situations. No mortal should bear a weapon of such power for too long- even the Holy Avenger."

"Your words make it clear that I chose wisely in gifting you with Carsomyr." Adalon's jaws stretched wide in her dragon smile. "That is all I can offer you. Continue onward to Trademeet, and do not hesitate. May your god guide your steps."

Her wings flapped once, twice, then propelled her into the air. Adalon's beautiful, sleek, and most certainly deadly form faded into the light of the afternoon sun as she returned home to her children in the Windspear Hills. Keldorn watched for a few more moments after he could no longer make out her figure in the sky, then gazed back upon the blade of legend, which he now held in his grasp. He inhaled sharply, then glanced to his sword hip, where the Hallowed Redeemer still sat. He thought of removing it from the spot where it had lain for so many years, always sharp and ready... like an old friend. A gift from Torm himself- it made him wince, just thinking about it replacing it. Thousands of battles had been won at the tip of his blade. He had wielded it so fast and so often, it felt like an extension of himself when he held it in his hands.

And yet... Carsomyr glowed bright white, and not simply because of the sun reflecting off the blade. It was the blade of myth and legend, the scourge of all evil. Hidden by a mighty red dragon for fear of someone using it against him. Every young knight including himself had dreamed of wielding its power in battle, striking a blow for all that was good and worthy in the Realms. With a deep breath, Keldorn fastened the sword to his back, the handle resting where the arrows in a quiver would sit were he wearing one. It was heavy and it decreased his flexibility, but he could not simply replace the Hallowed Redeemer, nor could he abandon such a gift.

He began the short walk back to his horse, doing his best to mount in full armor and on his own. Trademeet was still another hour of riding away... and from Adalon's description, the gods themselves were interested in seeing this whole mess through. If they were concerned enough to prevent each other from interfering, what exactly was he getting into?

X X X X X X

"Don't underestimate the dangers here, I guess is what I'm saying." Imoen said, leaning up against the wall of Minister Lloyd's house with her arms folded. "I know we've got some serious power… but without Keldorn and Jaheira, we're short two of our best fighters. You, Aerie and I are more suited to either ranged combat with arrows or magic. Minsc and Solaufein are the only real fighters left in the group right now, only one of which will be able to fight if we're bringing Jaheira along and…"

Imoen stopped briefly and frowned at Greywulf, who was listening intently... or rather supposed to be listening. His expression didn't seem to match the subject matter, or much of anything else really. The only time Imoen had seen him so disconnected was back at De'Arnise Keep, right before she'd been forced to kick him out of that bout of depression and soulless angst. Imoen didn't pretend to understand the responsibilities he bore; she was more than content to stay in the background and offer advice between pranks and annoying jokes. She had never been interested in commanding lives, or in making the decisions that meant life or death for others. Especially not her friends. No doubt they entrusted their lives to her skills in combat, but that was different somehow. "Hey… wake up! I'm talking to ya!" Imoen said with a mock scowl.

His head immediately snapped over to hers with a sad smile. "Ah… sorry, Im. Don't worry. I heard everything you told me about the cabin. Once Minsc and Aerie finish gathering supplies, we'll head out."

As emotionally charged and biased as she could be around her brother, even her constant need to defend him couldn't keep her from noting his obviously poor state. She studied him for a moment, then moved and nudged him slightly so she could sit beside him on the large couch in the living quarters of the home. She turned her head, looking at him from underneath the strands of hair that covered half her face at the moment. "What about you? Are you feeling okay?"

He put a forced smile on his face, nodding gently. "Yeah... I'm fine. Just tired, that's all. Once we get to the Temple and sort things out-"

"You mean once we get Jaheira back." Imoen noted, looking on with concern as he turned away from her gaze, his expression hardening as she continued. "Greywulf... we all miss her. But-"

"But what?" Greywulf cut her off, his voice and tone harsher than he had intended, as he quickly tried to calm himself down, giving Imoen an opportunity to speak again.

"But you can't put all your hopes, all your emotions... you can't make rescuing her your reason for going on." Imoen finally managed to express, her eyes fluttering back and forth between her knees and the floor, trying to find the words to keep speaking. "When we thought you were gone... it was hard. On everyone, but especially me and Jaheira. We got through it... we had to. If this doesn't work-"

"It will." Greywulf said through clenched teeth and narrowed eyes, but Imoen simply continued,

"If it doesn't, you'll have to find a way to keep going." Imoen sighed, at last seemingly having found the message she wanted to get across. "I'll be there for you, Greywulf... all of us will. But you have to let us be there."

The sorcerer did not speak for a moment as her voice died away in the wooden corridors of the Minister's home. For the time, the only sound was that of the birds faintly chirping outside and the wind rustling the branches together. Imoen rested her hands on her knees as she glanced at Greywulf, hoping her words might've done some sort of good- she bit her lip as he made no effort to look at her again, only sitting in silence and solace, even if she was scant inches from his side.

A gust of the wind outside made its way in as the cabin door swung wide, slamming against the wall on its opposite side. Minsc stepped in, leading Aerie and Solaufein behind. The ranger set down several satchels full of supplies, including rations, arrows, water and newly smithed armor. "We have returned! Let evil tremble, eh? Minsc's sword is sharp and ready for the killing of eeeevil!"

Imoen grinned at the ranger's enthusiasm- it was a welcome change from the nervousness he had shown back at Merella's cabin. She snuck a sideways glance at Greywulf, her smile widening even further as she saw the edges of his mouth creep up as well. Nothing like Minsc to improve the party's spirits, that was sure and for certain.

The floorboards creaked just audibly as the heavy ranger trod across the room, setting down the supplies and equipment that had been rationed out for each one of them. Aerie watched the items and weapons in the pack distributed amongst the ones who had stayed behind, then looked outside. The sun was still high enough to keep the shadows at bay and the power of light at its utmost. She opened one of the windows nearby the door, looking through the small portal. "I was thinking," Aerie said, glancing back toward the others. "We should head to the Temple Ruins when the sun is still near its peak. It might give us an advantage against the Shade Lord and his creatures..."

Her words made sense; Greywulf nodded with a grim smile and stood, gripping his quarterstaff tightly. "I agree. The Temple's only a few hours hike from here. If we move now, we can still make it before the sun begins to set. Minsc... if you could bring Jaheira."

Minsc nodded and left to the spare bedroom of the house, returning with Jaheira's ashen body in his arms. She looked small in the embrace of the massive warrior's arms, and her pallor had not changed from its deathly cold state. The sorcerer didn't look back; he pushed out the door, followed closely by his friends. Nobody said a word to them as they passed by the houses, shops and inns of Imnesvale. Even those who had smithed their equipment and sold them supplies barely made themselves known as they watched the five of them leave their town.

"Friendly bunch." Imoen whispered as they passed the small creek that ran by the outskirts of the town. It was the unofficial border of Imnesvale itself, and it babbled quietly to the five as they passed further and further out of sight from the townsfolk.

Aerie let herself smile at Imoen's quip, the blonde-haired maiden sidestepping a particularly thorny shrub as they followed the uphill trail that would lead to the Umar Temple. Minsc was in front of them, Solaufein in front of the ranger. Minsc would be hard pressed to respond to any sort of quick attack or ambush that came their way while he held Jaheira's body. Solaufein would be his first line of defense; Aerie and Imoen would provide the magical prowess to guard both their flank as well as Minsc should anything get past the blade of the drow warrior. Greywulf took the lead, as always.

Greywulf... Aerie let her glance linger over the lean-framed half-elf for a moment longer. The darkness was growing... not just around them, but within the sorcerer as well. She was beginning to feel it. Whenever she spoke to him, all his attempts at reassuring her were in vain. The anger, the barely suppressed fury inside him was beginning to strangle the good man she'd been rescued by in what seemed like a lifetime ago. Imoen was quite possibly the only one he would still respond to in full honesty. She turned to that same girl, such a contrast to herself.

Imoen noticed her gaze, she quirked a grin, arching an eyebrow in curiosity. "What is it? Something you want to ask me? You've got that same look you had when we first started chatting. You know, back on Brynnlaw? Thought we'd gotten past all that embarrassment."

Aerie nodded in acceptance, gesturing with her head towards their leader. "Just wanted to know how he's doing, that's all. I know you two were talking before we arrived- I was hoping you might've been able to... well, I don't know. Just get him back to his old self, that's all."

"It won't be that easy." Imoen sighed quietly, keeping her voice low, inaudible to anyone but the two of them beside the sound of the creek flowing at their side. She ran her hand through her hair, then proceeding to straighten the studded leather bracers she wore on each wrist. "He's going to need a lot of help before he's anything like he used to be. He feels responsible for every defeat we suffer, every battle we lose."

"But we haven't lost many battles, almost none." Aerie frowned, not understanding. "Yes, we lost Jaheira… but that's why we're going to the Temple to revive her. And Bodhi's dead, you have your soul back- I don't understand."

Imoen looked at the form of Jaheira, just visible, lying in Minsc's gentle yet powerful arms. "I've been with Greywulf for so long... I know how he thinks. How he feels. Just because he tells us where we're going, who we're fighting, even if it's as much our decision as his… he takes every battle and every situation we get into personally. He feels like he's failed Jaheira by letting her die, he feels that it was his fault Keldorn's left… he shoulders each burden as his own, whether he deserves to or not."

"But it's not his fault... he can't save everyone."

"I know," Imoen sighed, "And at some level, he does too. The thing is… he's not willing to accept that."

_Deep in the forest, in the shadows that were slowly growing, a pair of flickering red eyes watched, vision so clear and so precise... yet blurred and full of shadows nonetheless. The faint tremor of voices reached its sensitive ears, and it could tell that prey was nearing its grasp. Too bright... it snarled quietly, knowing that it was still too early to strike. The shadows were not deep enough yet. It would matter little in the end, though... the voices were getting louder. They were coming this way. _

Solaufein frowned, unhooding himself as they continued their path. He wore the cloak and hood to shield his sensitive, night-accustomed eyes to the bright glare of the sun that illuminated their path. And yet, it was no longer bothering him. No longer bringing tears to his eyes or haunting his vision. He could see as well as he might've in the throes of dusk, but it had only been an hour since they departed from Minister Lloyd's home. It couldn't be... he dropped one hand to the hilt of his sword, feeling its comforting grip.

At the head of the line, Greywulf found himself at just as much unease as the drow behind him. The edges of everything were growing darker and fuzzier, glowing ever so slightly with the effects of his half-elven infravision. Still, it was just that, half-elven. It was at its best during the moments before complete nightfall, when things were merely shadowed, not fully enshrouded in the embrace of the night. They couldn't be that far out of Imnesvale. He turned to the others behind him, whispering harshly. "Watch yourself. I have a bad feeling about this..."

_The whisper of the half-elf might as well have been a shout. It heard his words clearly, and grinned, jaws gleaming in the darkness. It was time to see for itself what was walking into the infinite darkness. It cocked its head to the side, then snorted, letting a half-growl loose from its lips. A howl of acknowledgment issued from the beasts at its side. They slipped into the forest, knifing through the forest like a shark through the water. The creature who had sent them turned and retreated further into the depths of the shadowed realm. The Master would be pleased._

Imoen tensed, listening to the slight after-echoes that were just audible to the party. The howls of wolves... it would have been ominous enough without the tales that Merella had passed to them through her journal. She briefly contemplated whether to draw her bow and arrows or rely on her magics for defense; she glanced at Aerie and saw the elf bringing both hands to eye level, whispering chants as she drew on the power of her clerical connections. Imoen drew an arrow in response and slipped the bow from her shoulder and into her hand in one smooth motion. She felt herself unnerve even further, looking into their path. The light of day, which should have still been clear and comforting, was just a faint glimmer in the forest ahead. She glanced at the regular arrow she had drawn from her quiver, and then replaced it in exchange for an Arrow of Fire. This could be... difficult.

Minsc shifted Jaheira's weight, trying to hold her in a way that would not discomfit himself too much, but still allow him to set her down with speed enough to get into the battle if necessary. His ranger senses were on overdrive; every movement, every sound rang as clear as day in his ears. The small creek they'd originally been traveling beside had transformed into a full scale river. It wound on the edge of the forest, opposed by a steep set of cliffs. According to the map, this stretch of the path to the Temple ruin funneled them between the lake and the cliffs for almost a mile, giving them little option but to fight or retreat if challenged. Not much room to maneuver... Minsc's eyes snapped over toward the water, noting ripples that surfaced every now and then. Whether simple fish or something more sinister, Minsc was not about to let it go unnoticed. The ranger breathed in tightly as they began passing through the narrow stretch... Boo squeaked gently, drawing Minsc's attention. He looked into the large black eyes of his mentor, then nodded in agreement. Evil was much easier to kill in full daylight.

A flock of crows flew over them, giving a quick rise of weapons from the group; still, the perceived threat was quickly identified and discounted. All nerves were on edge, especially given the dark circumstances surrounding this place. Further investigation of the cabin before Minsc, Aerie and Imoen had left found a note on the dining room table, left by the presumed leader of the band of adventurers that Minister Lloyd had hired. One 'Mazzy Fentan', describing directions to the Temple Ruins if anyone came looking for her should they disappear. Unfortunately, no one in the village of Imnesvale had been bold enough to explore the cabin and find her note until they'd arrived. _A smart tactic, _Greywulf thought as he sidestepped a particularly large rock in his path. _We would have done well to do the same thing in case Keldorn follows eventually. _

By this point, the light in the sky had all but vanished; even in the parts of the forest that weren't obscured completely, it was as though a cloak of shadow had draped itself over everything. The sun should have been piercing the foliage, but it was nowhere to be found. Greywulf sucked in air between clenched teeth, prepared to summon a spell to light their path- four red eyes flashed in the path before them, piercing crimson and unwavering. Solaufein had seen it and shouted a warning, but it was too late. A blur of shadow and something else collided with Greywulf, sending him tumbling to the ground, rolling away from his antagonist as soon as he landed. Greywulf tried to regain his footing and avoid the follow-up attack that was sure to come, but he was still too slow. A wraithlike claw came for him, slashing through his shoulder with ease. He expected to feel his flesh and muscle and bone torn and ripped away, but he gasped at the unexpectedly worse sensation. Instead of simple pain, the entire limb went cold, his shoulder completely numb, making movement of his left arm almost impossible.

Solaufein unsheathed his blade in seconds and then leapt forward, the closest to Greywulf and best suited to aid him in battle. He took aim at the shadowy form in the darkness, bringing the Vorpal Sword down in a mighty swing that ripped into the body of the beast. Solaufein's eyes widened in horror as he felt the blade slice through the creature, only to come out on the other side, leaving much of the beast unharmed. Pieces of fur and black blood were left on the silver edge of the Vorpal Sword, but it still growled and turned its body, preparing to leap at the surprised drow. It crouched, ready to tear out Solaufein's throat in one swift move- an arrow leapt past the warrior's side and lodged itself into the front of the beast. A second passed, and nothing happened. Suddenly, Imoen's arrow activated, igniting in flame. It filled the formless shape with burning light and fire, illuminating it, harming it, and revealing its true form.

Greywulf gasped in disbelief as he looked at the wolf-like beast; much as Minsc had described, it was wolf and yet not wolf. The basic shape was the same, but this beast was larger, covered in spines and indwelt with a darkness that seemed to creep out of it. Black foam was at its frothing jaws and the eyes of the beast were a deep red with sickly black ooze trickling from the corners. That same ooze crept from every wound they'd inflicted upon it, but if leaking so much of it discomforted the creature, it did not show it.

Aerie's voice rang out in the midst of the darkened day, calling on her god to rain fire upon their foe, increasing the damage Imoen's arrow was inflicting ten fold. Fire erupted from the air around it, scorching it with each lick that belched its way out of the darkness. It howled in agony, skin cracking and blistering with the intense heat and light. It went even more feral than before, snarling and slobbering as it turned toward Greywulf again, leaping out of the fiery pillar to strike its closest foe- Greywulf was already on his feet and holding his quarterstaff at one end like an oversized club. He swung with all his might and sent the creature flying to the side, struggling to rise once again.

Solaufein moved up and flipped the grip he held on the Silver Sword, raising it high atop the Shade Wolf's head. He thrust it down without remorse or hesitation, ignoring the squirt of suddenly red and real blood as he impaled the head on his weapon. The darkness seemed to drain from the wolf, shrinking and slowly becoming more and more like a normal wolf. The spines and rabid condition vanished, leaving behind nothing but a ragged and rotten corpse. Solaufein removed his weapon, stepping away from the decaying beast. "This _thing_... from its condition, it has been dead for weeks if not longer. The only thing sustaining it this long must have been the Shadow Magic of this place."

"That's why they're bringing back the bodies..." Aerie whispered quietly, though her voice was plain to anyone listening. "This Shade Lord is creating an army of the undead, powered by the darkness itself."

"But if it needs bodies to inhabit..." Solaufein whirled to face Minsc, and the body he was still holding in his arms. "Minsc! Get Jaheira's body out of here!"

"Wait!" Imoen called out, her bow raised as she looked around desperately, looking for their enemy. "There were two sets of eyes we saw, right? Where's the other one?"

The words of Merella's journal came back to haunt them once more. Greywulf found his mouth suddenly dry as he answered her. "They hunted Merella... they're doing the same thing to us."

A booming roar echoed through the air, so close that it sounded like it was directly above them. It was more than enough to shake the cliffs on their right, sending a trickle of rocks downward. The sound of steady rushes of wind began thudding in their hearing. It was familiar... far too familiar for their tastes. It only took a brief second to place the source, even as their heads all turned upward, looking for their foe. Greywulf opened his mouth to shout a warning, an order to scatter, but by then the beast was upon them.

_It was quiet, stealthy... a piece of the darkness itself. It was only when it had come right on top of them that they noticed its presence... only when it had made itself known through its roar and the gusts of wind it sent to knock them all aside like dolls. Each and every one of them went flying, sent to the ground and skidding away over the gravel and dirt that surrounded the lakeside. All but one, actually. A man larger than the rest had hunkered over and was withstanding the force of its wind buffet. The beast fixed him in its gaze- he was carrying another body as well. It grinned wickedly, knowing full well how the Master would be pleased if he should bring back two vessels at once. Rather than landing on the ground, it changed its trajectory to intersect the straightening ranger, just now beginning to see what was swooping towards him at an unavoidable speed..._

Aerie was shaking her head, trying to regain her wits from the sudden blast of wind that had sent almost every one of them flying. Her vision was fuzzy, not helped at all by the dim light as she reopened her eyes. Still, it cleared enough to see a black, nearly shapeless blur swoop down towards Minsc. Whether he saw it or not mattered little; he was gone in a moment, swept up and scarcely visible in the grip of the shadow creature as it took off into the air. Two wings were slowly becoming clear in the shadow, beating heavily to take it higher and higher. Minsc's grunts and efforts to break free were seemingly in vain, Aerie crying out in despair as her protector and friend was ripped from them-

A cry of berserker fury echoed from Minsc as the beast that carried him lurched in surprise- apparently it had been taken aback by the raw power that this one man contained. It was not enough of an effort to break free completely, or to escape the claws that held him... but it was enough to free the woman he held in his grasp. Minsc hurled Jaheira's body downward before the beast's grip closed around Minsc once again, this time refusing to budge.

_It watched the form of the body that its captive had been holding plummet to the ground, caught at the last moment by another of their number. It growled, green flame flickering from its nostrils. It had retrieved a body for the Master and that would have to be enough. Once it had dropped off this one, it would return and bring back another. All the while, the lesser beasts of shadow would claim who they could through tooth and claw. Live prisoners were always better; the less damage to their bodies, the stronger the servant they would be. Of course, bringing them in alive just wasn't always an option._

Solaufein grunted as he leapt to catch Jaheira's falling body, tumbling to the ground as he cradled her tightly.

"Minsc!!"

Aerie's shout faded away, even as the shapeless beast disappeared into the skies, making a beeline for the Temple Ruins. "It must've been the Shadow Dragon that Aran told us about." Imoen winced, holding one arm gingerly as she tried to fight off the pain. She'd landed on it awkwardly after getting knocked off her feet, and it was going to be hard to ignore that pain for too long.

"Then we don't have much time." Greywulf's eyes narrowed as he walked to Solaufein, gesturing for the drow to give him Jaheira's body. He complied, even as he warned Greywulf what he had tried to warn Minsc of.

"You know that keeping her body here with us simply gives the Shade Lord another target. If he can inhabit her body with one of his undead spirits, you'll have to strike her down again. It could interfere with the ritual of Amaunator."

"I'll take care of her." Greywulf said, a hint of challenge in his voice as he held her closely. "We can't go back now, not with Minsc in their hands. We keep moving until we reach the Temple. No matter what happens, we need to get inside and kill the Shade Lord. Once he's gone, these shadows will go with him."

As if listening to his words and mocking them, the darkness around them pulsed and absorbed them all in a flurry of shouts and screams. Solaufein's senses went on full alert as he felt something tugging at his leg, wrapping itself around his calf as though to yank his feet out from under him. He swung his blade down, feeling the satisfying release as the Vorpal Sword cut through whatever had been attempting to take him by surprise. He heard a scream from Imoen, and he leapt through the darkness toward her, hoping to find the girl and save her; he found himself passing through empty air, even as the shouts of the others being attacked followed close behind. A flash of light from a spell- maybe it was a Magic Missile or maybe a Flame Arrow- was just enough to pierce the blackness for a split-second, and he caught a glimpse of Greywulf entangled in vines composed of shadow and a gnarled tree limb that was the source of the infected vegetation. He pushed himself to his feet, closing his eyes as he depended on all his other senses as well as the last place he had seen the tree branch- the Vorpal Sword cut with ease, severing the limb in one stroke.

The darkness fled once more, but this time it revealed but three. Aerie and Imoen were gone, and Greywulf was pushing off the remains of the tree limb and the shadow vines before kneeling beside Jaheira's body, dropped in the abduction attempt. He took Solaufein's hand to pull himself up, hurriedly looking over the rock cliffs to where the attack had come over, vines and branches of shadow still slithering back over in retreat. He saw flashes of light igniting over the top, and could barely hear the sound of one of the girls shouting what could have been simple gibberish, though it was more likely incantations. "Do you think they might've escaped that trap?" Solaufein asked, keeping a tight grip on his sword as Greywulf picked up Jaheira once more.

"I don't know... but we've got to keep moving. The darkness has infected this place more than I thought." Greywulf swallowed. "It's taken Minsc, maybe Aerie and Imoen too. It's got the advantage here and it knows it."

"Maybe over you... but certainly not me." Solaufein said with a grim and gritty smile, narrow eyes examining the path that continued into night. "You might not be used to fighting the shadows, but this place has nothing worse than the Underdark. This Shade Lord should be more careful in choosing his field of battle. He's not the only one who thrives in the darkness."

X X X X X X

Keldorn cursed under his breath and kicked the sides of his horse to spur it onward into a gallop through the streets of the city. The wind rushed by him as he leaned forward, already trying to anticipate his next few moves. This wasn't what he had been expecting at all upon his arrival to Trademeet...

An infuriated mob, pitchforks and all, closed in around the tied and bound man, attached to a stake in the midst of town. Their shouts and their accusations were deafening, intermingling with each other in one giant assembly and orchestra of hatred. In the center, in the very bull's-eye of their wrath was the one tied to the stake, looking remarkably calm in the midst of such anger. His usually tanned features sported several bruises, and the tribal face paint that would normally form three green stripes down the center of his forehead was smeared. Still, his eyes were clear and calm, if a bit put-off by the sheer amount of hatred being thrown his way. He was bare-chested and his muscular, lean frame showed the evidence of several battles, judging by the scars that were present.

"Burn the druid!"

"Aye, show them folk what happens when they attack our homes!"

"Make an example of the druid scum!"

He watched with what looked like slight exasperation rather than abject fear as hay was bundled at his feet, followed by a hulking, enraged townsman with a torch. The slight breeze running through the air was in no way enough to put out the flames of the torch, much less aid him if the stake he was tied to were truly set ablaze. He tugged at his restraints a second time, testing their strength. A strong tie, but not enough to hold him if given the time. That might be hard to come by, though...

The sound of horse hoof-beats echoing over the cobble-stone paths of the town drew the attention of the mob, including the lighter of the flame, giving the accused a slight reprieve. Keldorn dismounted his steed quickly, looking over the mob with horror and suspicion. "What's going on here?! I could hear the shouts and see the smoke from your fires from outside the town! I had thought this place was under siege-"

"It is! By him and his kind!" One of the members of the mob holding a pitchfork shouted. "Him and his druid kin 'ave terrorized us long enough! We're going to make an example of him to show the other tree-huggers that this place won't go without a fight! What's it to you, bucket-head?"

Keldorn fixed him with a cold gaze. "I am a paladin of the Radiant Heart, and from where I stand, this looks more like a lynching than justice! What has he done to deserve this?"

"He's a druid!!" a shrill-voiced woman intoned with shock, as though Keldorn had even needed to ask. "We caught him outside the city! He was probably spying on us before they attacked again!"

"I admit, I was sent to investigate this town, as well as the grove nearby." The shockingly calm voice of the druid tied to the post rang out, prompting an arched look from Keldorn and a seething mass of hatred from everyone else. "In no way have I harmed anyone here, nor was it ever my intent to do so."

"Shut your mouth! We'll make an example of you right here and now!" the torchbearer spat, leaning down to ignite the fire. Keldorn snatched the torch from him in a split second, holding it far and away from the stake.

"I do not know what has happened here, but I shall not allow you to murder a man based upon such suspicions." Keldorn declared, his mind whirling around the possibilities. It was clear that he couldn't simply let the mob have this druid- whether he was guilty or not of any crime had yet to be determined, but for the moment, he was Keldorn's best bet of finding out what was really happening with the nearby grove. And that meant keeping him alive until he could get some answers.

"I appreciate the aid, sir knight." the druid intoned with a gentle smile, nodding to Keldorn as the paladin found himself backing up towards the stake, suddenly surrounded by the entire mob. "Although you'll find that my cause is not one that enjoys much support in these parts."

"I noticed that." Keldorn growled, throwing the torch as far away as he could manage, tossing it over the heads of the mob members. He drew his sword and leveled it to guard position, eyes flitting back and forth as he tried to keep the crowd at bay. They hadn't seemed too impressed by his name-dropping of the Radiant Heart... whatever was afflicting them must have been worse than he had suspected.

"We must not hurt the people of this town... they strike out of fear. I cannot blame them; it is the basic instinct of any oppressed or cornered animal to strike at whatever resembles its enemy." the druid advised. "Still, you look as though you could use a hand."

The druid's eyes flashed brightly for a moment as he began chanting- vines erupted from the ground and tore away the bonds that kept him tied to the stake. Cries of protest and shouts of indignation erupted from the mob as he shook off the strands of rope that were stuck to his wrists and legs- Keldorn noted the wrist burns from the overly tightened bonds that had held him in place. Still, the ease with which he escaped...

"You could have escaped at any time you wished." Keldorn said without bothering to look at the druid. "Why wait until now?"

"I did not wish to enflame the situation any more than it had been already." he replied calmly, eyeing the rapidly closing horde that surrounded them. "I am Cernd, and I thank you for the rescue."

"Keldorn." the paladin said with gritted teeth, taking another step back to put himself beside Cernd. "Though I must say, between that introduction and choosing to free yourself now, you have the worst sense of timing I've ever seen."


	92. Part 3: Separation Anxiety

"If you have any aid to share, I would be glad to partake of it." Keldorn said through gritted teeth as the crowds drew ever closer, closing in around the paladin and the druid. His blade was quite possibly the only thing keeping the masses at bay; he'd seen mobs like this in the past, and knew the kind of frenzy that was driving the townsfolk before him. He knew the bloodlust that fed their anger- by defending Cernd from their wrath, he had made himself just as much of a target. He couldn't keep them back indefinitely, and the druid he guarded didn't even have a quarterstaff to hold-

"Be at peace, paladin. Nature shall not let her servants be harmed... not until our work is complete. Trust me." he turned his head, letting Keldorn glimpse his smile for a brief moment.

One of the townsfolk, this one in particular wielding a makeshift quarterstaff, or at the very least a similar length of wood, chose that moment to swing at the druid. It came down with all the force of a betrayed and cornered animal, the terrorized folk of Trademeet finally being given the chance to strike back against their perceived enemy. The attack was behind Keldorn, and there was no way for him to block from where he was standing, but he knew what was coming. He winced as he prepared himself for the inevitable sound of wood striking flesh... a sound which never came.

Cernd's arm darted out, batting the side of the shaft just enough for it to slide past his body. His arm continued, closing around the staff as he tightened his armlock, grasping it with his free hand and pulling hard, yanking it from the surprised man's grip. In one deft stroke, Cernd raised it to his own guard, even as the villagers around him regarded the druid with a new sense of both animosity and respect.

The elder man felt a smile creep onto his face despite himself, glancing back at Cernd with a nod. "I'm impressed. Still, unless you plan on disarming every one of these men and women, we might still be in for something of a fight."

Cernd didn't bother to respond this time- Keldorn simply heard the sound of Cernd's baritone, the bare-chested man's eyes shimmering with blue and white and mist slowly rose from the ground, obscuring everything around them. Shouts and cries of alarm from the townsfolk were raised as the thought occurred to them that their prey might escape; Keldorn felt grasping hands touch his breastplate as they tried to find their target; he sheathed his sword in a swift motion, while his other hand swept out to grab the arm, applying pressure on the elbow joint to sweep his attacker to the ground.

A hand dropped on Keldorn's shoulder, pulling him to the ground- he whirled to counterattack, but found himself crouching beside Cernd, the two men with eyes locked as their foes crowded in around them, searching through the blinding fog. "We cannot linger here." Cernd whispered, deftly spinning to strike the side of someone's leg that drew too close, sending him tumbling into another group of seekers. "The spell will not last long; we must be gone before it expires. I can delay our pursuers if we run, but I shall need your assistance. Do I have it?"

"I doubt we have a choice." Keldorn grimaced as a man bumped straight into him from behind; he reached behind him, taking hold of the backs of the man's feet, and then threw his body weight back. Unable to balance himself, thanks to Keldorn's lock on his ankles, the man was sent straight to the ground, flailing and shouting as he hit the cobblestone path. "You have it. Let's move."

Keldorn flung one hand out to spin himself around and into a sprint from his crouched position, flinging himself out of the mist and straight into the embrace of the mob. His armored bulk cleared a path and sent both men and women alike to the ground as he grunted, trying to maintain his momentum as people slowly realized that he was making an escape attempt. Cernd was following his path, much quicker and more lithe than Keldorn, but he was still limited by the speed with which his paladin ally moved. Foes gave chase and tried to stop him from every side as they neared daylight- Cernd howled in pain as he felt fire slash across his back.

The paladin spun, eyes wide as he saw the druid stumbling after him as quickly as he could manage, shrugging off the reaching hands and pounding fists- directly behind him was a bearded man giving chase, wielding an old, outdated sword. Still, by the blood on its edge, it was still as useful as ever. It would be a risk, giving the mob time to strike him- a risk he'd have to take. Cernd couldn't make it out alive, not without some kind of protection. Keldorn closed his eyes, calling on Torm for the protection Cernd would need- he reached out and as his gloved hand touched Cernd's skin, he flashed bright, translucent armor flashing as it materialized on his chest, arms, and legs. The next sword strike was turned, Cernd nodding in appreciation as he lurched forward, knocking away the groups that had just managed to take hold of the paladin during his moment of distraction.

With that final push, they found a clear path before them, even if the mob was at their heels, quickly mobilizing to chase them down. His elven steed would've been a great help at escaping this town; Keldorn scarce gave the idea consideration before pushing it away, trying to analyze their options, even as he pushed himself on even harder. If not for the Gauntlets of Dexterity, he'd have no chance of getting out of there before the mob caught up with them. Even so, the plate armor made his pace much more difficult to maintain than it would have been otherwise.

No less disconcerting was the wound Cernd had suffered; he could see the pain in him with every step. The bloody gash was running from his left shoulder to his right hip, all the way across his back. He wouldn't be able to keep up much longer... "Keldorn... I can get us out of here. I can save us." Cernd spoke, his words tremulous as he stumbled. Keldorn moved to let the druid lean on him as they pushed forward, losing ground rapidly as their pursuers caught the sight of blood. "Do you trust me?"

It was an odd time for such a question, and given more time Keldorn might've analyzed the intent behind it. At the moment, he had little choice but to make a split-second decision. He locked eyes with Cernd and nodded. What happened next was a blur, a haze, and almost out of thought and mind as Keldorn would try to remember it later. A howl from the druid- not of pain like before, but a feral cry as his body warped itself and twisted into a new form. Fur and claws came from nowhere as Cernd grew and grew, the summoned armor shattering like glass as he shifted and became something more than human. Before long, Keldorn found himself being picked up and carried by the massive strength of the wolfwere that had once been the quiet, unassuming druid; the crowd may have been disappearing behind them, and Cernd's back wound may have been knitting itself together... but Keldorn was rapidly reconsidering his current choice of companion.

X X X X X X

Constant, unceasing, and steady. Something fit all three of those adjectives, and whatever it was, it sounded like a hammer that was making its anvil from the insides of Imoen's head. She winced, even though her eyes were still closed. There it was again... that same noise. It was more in focus this time, more intelligible. The dull cloud that had been covering her hearing as she slowly regained consciousness was leaving, though she couldn't yet tell if that was a good thing.

Imoen groaned as she tried to pry her eyes open, finally managing to blink once or twice. It wasn't much too look at, actually. Cold stone comprising the floor, puddled water all around. A leak had obviously been building in the roof, as was evidenced by the constant splash of water. Ah... Imoen groaned again as she realized that the drip was what was making the noise. Feeling started returning to her cold limbs, to her chilled body; pain followed swiftly behind. Perhaps not from wounds, but more of the position her body had been in for the past-who-knows-how-long.

She was lying on her knees, with shackles attached to her wrists that were fully supporting her at the moment from falling over. Her shoulders shouted at her with pain as the realization hit her, and Imoen immediately tried to push herself to her feet, hoping to relieve some of the strain. It was a struggle and she nearly fell down, the sprain to her left leg making its presence known as she tried to put her full weight on it.

The pink haired girl let a slight moan slip from her mouth as she felt her arms and shoulders screamed in rebellion at the strain they'd been put under. Imoen grit her teeth, trying to calm her mind and thoughts, to bring herself back to some semblance of control. Breathing in... breathing out. Slowly, deeply, her arms hanging at head level from the shackles they were still imprisoned by. She took a moment to study her surroundings even further, hoping to find a friendly face... nothing. No hope in the darkness. Cold iron bars were opposite her, enclosing the small cell she assumed was her new home. What had even happened? She tried to think, to picture how she had ended up there...

_Imoen strained, pushing against the black tendrils of vine and wood that were curled around her waist, slithering across the forest floor as they dragged her and Aerie to a destination she was quite certain she didn't want to see. The shadow magic had infested everything in the Umar Hills, even the forest itself. Imoen reached down, trying to get a grip on the short sword at her side, but the tumbles she was taking across the root and branch covered forest floor made it nearly impossible. _

_She felt brambles tear fire across her face and body as she was dragged along; Imoen took the pain, harnessed it, used it to focus. She shouted the words to her magics, letting the fire and power of a Burning Hands numb her fingertips as they ignited in orange flame. The stranglehold that the shadow limbs had on her waist weakened as she grabbed the tainted wood; the light was enough for her to glimpse Aerie a few yards away, her hands and mouth bound and covered by the black tendrils of darkness. It sensed the power Aerie contained- one False Dawn would destroy nearly every shadow creature within sight. The Shade Lord was taking no chances with Aerie's clerical magic... they'd pay for underestimating Imoen's arcane powers, though._

_As soon as she felt her waist gain a hint of flexibility, she pushed as hard as she could with her still flaming hands against the vines around her stomach, squeezed her legs together and pointed her toes, then thrust her entire lower body upwards, sweeping her lithe legs out of the hold and into a somersault as she came to her feet, free and clear. The darkness was too prevalent- Aerie was only a few dozen yards off but she could barely see the elf's golden locks or her terrified eyes as she found herself helpless to fight back. _

_Imoen shouted the next words to her spells, aware of the regrouping shadow vegetation that was making its way back to recapture her. Dozens of flame arrows shot from her palms, materializing and following her mental targets. Trees were set alight and the ground was caught afire, further lighting the path as her final barrage of magic struck the branch that held Aerie prisoner. It spasmed in what could be construed as pain, one of the tendrils wrapped around Aerie's mouth coming free as she hurriedly chanted and called upon the powers of Wildwanderer and Faenya. _

_Lightning struck all around, joining the flames Imoen had summoned to set the darkness ablaze, sending it away. Imoen grinned in triumph, almost forgetting about the counterattack that her former captors were making- but not completely. She spun, unsheathing her short sword in a quick motion, spinning it upwards and then flicking it down with a quick spin of her wrist. It cut both vines that were about to wrap themselves around her feet, sending the source screeching back into the darkness. _

_"Imoen!" Aerie's call alarmed Imoen, and for a moment she feared that Aerie was not as safe as she had thought- in reality, it was much worse. Aerie was free of her captivity, but the shadow forest had taken a new route- rather than trying to fight them both at once, its power was shifting, swirling and obscuring their view of each other. Foliage and vine was splitting and erupting from the ground between them- Imoen could scarcely see the girl she'd just recently saved in between the thick vegetation, and within a second, there was nothing but the darkness around Imoen._

_She swung with all her might, trying to cut into the newly sprouted vines, but to no avail. The forest would not be denied- and in her zeal to return to Aerie's side, she did not see the third attempt on her person. This time, she was not ready. Shadow vines wrapped themselves around her ankles, wrapping up her legs until she couldn't even bend her knees; no chance of pulling another gymnastic escape attempt like before. One for each wrist, stopping her hands from making the gestures for complicated spells, and one more around her mouth to stop her incantations. Her very breath was squeezed away as she felt the magic of the shadows taking her from the conscious world..._

The memories came back to her like a flood; Imoen exhaled and took stock of her situation. No use to anyone if she was simply waiting to be rescued, after all. She didn't know what had happened to Aerie, or Greywulf and Solaufein. For all she knew, they all might have been captured... and if that was the case, she was the one with the best chance of breaking out. She blinked again, waiting for her eyes to grow accustomed to the darkness. For the umpteenth time, she wished she had infravision like Aerie, or even a limited version like Greywulf or Jaheira. Trying to practice thievery without a single light source was challenging... not that a guard-attracting torch helped matters any. A flicker of movement caught her eye- she looked up, squinting as she searched for the source... she felt her mouth grow dry as she saw what it had been.

A red-eyed shadow fiend swept back and forth outside her cell. It was guarding her... but its path took it out of her vision for a time, presumably to patrol the rest of the room? Of course... she was in a prison of sorts. The rest of the party, or those who had been captured like Minsc, were probably here too. The thought of the big ranger gave her a bit of hope, mingled with fear. What if they were too late? What if he'd already been turned into a shadow, like the monsters she was fighting? She forced herself to avoid thinking about it... but the suspense and the fear was too much for her not to at least try and alleviate it. "Minsc? Are you out there?"

The shadow fiend hissed and pointed a jagged digit of darkness at her, the red slits that composed its eyes flaring with rage. She glared back, praying for a response, that her fears were unfounded...

"Hello? You are awake, then? I am pleased... it has been some time since I have been able to speak with another living, breathing thing."

The voice wasn't Minsc's- no, it was feminine, slightly accented and indwelt with a dignity that captivity had obviously not been able to erase. True enough, the sound was a relief, but once more, it wasn't any of her friends. "I don't think this guy here wants me talking, so we don't have much time; I don't know who you are, but I had a friend who was captured earlier. Big guy, purple tattoo on his head. Have you seen him?"

"Hmm. I believe I know of the man you speak... though he has been unconscious since he arrived. You appear to have recovered much more quickly than him. I'm glad I could quell your fears."

"Thanks..." Imoen sighed weakly, shutting her mouth as the shadow jailor slipped inside her cage, sliding its talons across the space beside her neck. "I think I'd better shut up now. I appreciate the help."

"Not at all; a pleasure to serve another warrior on the path of good." the voice came, and Imoen felt herself smiling beside herself. Deepen the voice, age it a bit, and she'd be hearing Keldorn all over again. She risked another short sentence as the Shadow Jailor slipped out of her cell, apparently satisfied that she was sufficiently intimidated into submission as it moved to do the same to the other talker.

"You a paladin?"

The voice opposite took on a slight note of regret as she spoke, "Nay... though I would love naught more than to claim such an honor. I am Mazzy Fentan, knight of Arvoreen. Though... it seems you were correct about our jailor. Shall we continue this later?"

"Sounds like a plan." Imoen smirked, her nerve strengthened by the knowledge that she wasn't alone- if she could free herself, Minsc, and this Mazzy knight, they might have a chance at getting out alive. She glanced at the shackles that imprisoned her wrists; they glowed with a darkness that was wholly unnatural, and if she squinted hard enough, she could see the runes that lined them, no doubt the source of such magic. She didn't bother to try and use spells to open them; they were obviously warded for such a prisoner as her.

Her equipment was gone, as expected; her pack was missing, as was her sword, quiver, and bow. The bracers she wore had no enchantments on them, but the shades had removed them anyway- they would have had to shackle over them if they hadn't removed them, giving her an easy way of slipping out. Of course, the fact that she kept a lockpick on the inside of each bracer would've helped too, but it was no use now. Where else did she keep emergency lockpicks for just a situation? She looked down at herself, grimacing at what she saw. The thieving leathers she wore had been taken as well, removing any chance of accessing the picks she kept hidden in the hidden pouches. She was literally left with only the dirty, soiled shirt on her back and her leggings... whose pockets had been emptied. Damn. Even her boots had been taken, eliminating any chance of using the picks that were inside the soles of the boots as well. Double damn. Obviously she wasn't the first thief that had been captured by the shadows here.

Imoen sighed, letting her head droop in what would undoubtedly look like defeat to anyone who was watching... including the Shadow Jailor who was undoubtedly watching her closely for any attempts at escape. It passed by her cell again, peering in to see the despondent girl, then moved on, satisfied that she would be no trouble. Imoen watched out of the corner of her eye as the creature left her cell again, then let a feral grin slip onto her face. They were good, she'd give them that much... but she was Imoen, Master Thief, after all. She swung her head from side to side, letting the pink locks of her hair swing with her.

After a few swings, she saw one of the few tied braids come into her vision. She smirked to herself, continuing the motion until it easily came past her face. Nobody ever asked why Imoen had three ties in her otherwise straight, shoulder length hair. Just a simple fashion statement, right? Wrong. Imoen jutted her face out as the tied braid passed by, biting down on the lock of her own hair, feeling the thin shaft of metal concealed inside the braid. She let her tongue slide inside the hair, gagging slightly at the coppery, unpleasant taste of metal, then biting down on it and sucking briskly, pulling it out of its hiding spot. It slipped inside her mouth as she froze again, the Shadow Jailor making his rounds again. It peered inside the cell, looking in at the prisoner- if it was slightly curious or suspicious at the strands of hair that were stuck to Imoen's mouth, it didn't show it. It moved one again, once more leaving Imoen to continue her efforts. She frowned as she tried to position the pick with her teeth and tongue, finally readying it to be launched the slight distance it would have to travel to reach her hand.

She'd only have one chance at this- if it fell, her hands wouldn't reach to the ground to pick it up, and while she was limber, opening the locks around her hands using a pick wedged between her toes while standing on one foot just didn't seem too plausible. One moment to calm herself... she spat with a 'ptoooie', feeling panic rise inside as the pick hit her open palm and began to bounce off- her hand snapped closed just in time, the end of the pick just barely nestled between her fingers. She felt her heart skip a beat, then snugged it further into her hand, concealing it from any cursory glance. She waited until the guard made his round again, then took the pick between her thumb and trigger finger, sliding it down between her wrist and the shackle, searching for the latching mechanism inside... there. The jagged metal tool slid back and forth as she tried to get some kind of hold on the latch, anything to give her a way to open it from the inside.

The hiss of the Shadow Jailor got her attention and she let go of the lockpick, bending her hand down to slide the pick in between her wrist and the shackle, putting it out of sight. It was staring at her from outside the cell- Imoen cursed inwardly, wondering if the creature had seen anything. It didn't move for a moment of agonizing fear, then slipped through the bars and into her cell. It closed the gap between them in moments, staring her down... the translucent claws it bore slashed through her stomach, making Imoen double over, her legs spasming with the chill that coursed through her whole body. It turned and returned to its rounds, only pausing once as Imoen managed to look up, hanging by her shackles in numbing pain, growling hoarsely, "Gonna pay for that..."

It simply kept moving, uncaring of the threats issued by the human. It was of little importance, after all. The Master would turn all of them into members of their family soon enough. The time was near- once the night reached its full peak, the Shade Lord could begin the rituals upon the Altar of Darkness. Only a few more hours now...

The path of the Jailor took it past the line of cells again, only this time, Imoen was no longer in her shackles. It hissed and spat in fury, looking at the dangling chains and open shackles on the opposite side of the wall. It swept inside the cell's locked door, looking for any place she could be hiding- the door had been closed so she couldn't possibly have gotten out. Besides, it could sense her life force near... so very near-

Imoen materialized behind the Shadow Jailor, her invisibility spell vanishing as she began her new spell. It whirled in surprise, meeting a lightning bolt from the thief-mage head on. It screamed in pain, its otherworldly tones chilling as the magic binding it to the Prime was shattered. Imoen allowed herself a satisfied smirk as the remains of the Jailor slid to the ground. "Told ya."

Her skills with a pick made short work of the cell door lock, swinging wide as she stepped out, so thrilled to have pulled off her escape attempt that the feel of gravel and cold water on her bare feet didn't even faze her. She scanned the room- her heart leapt to see Minsc unharmed, if still in the same state she had been a few moments ago. His head was bowed, obviously still unconscious. His gear as well as her own and a pile she didn't recognize was lying scattered across the rotting wooden table that stood opposite her former cell. The other gear... it must have belonged to Mazzy. "Over here! I see you've proved more capable than our captors gave you credit for. For that I am glad; free me and your large friend, and we shall all escape from this wretched place!"

She turned, nodding in agreement with Mazzy's advice, scanning the empty cells until she found one which was occupied- she recoiled in surprise, mouth dropping just a bit before she regained her composure.

"Well?" Mazzy asked with a frown. "Is something wrong?"

Imoen felt her ears redden as she fought back the embarrassment of her initial reaction at seeing the orange haired, diminutive halfling warrior. She would regret saying it- but she just couldn't help herself. "Nothing's wrong. Really. I was just expecting someone... taller."

X X X X X X

The sound of Imoen's final gasps and grunts of effort before the darkness took her still lingered in Aerie's mind... she had no one to blame but herself. It had been for Aerie that Imoen had stopped her attempts at fleeing the darkness and had been recaptured. If the girl hadn't taken the time to stop and save Aerie from the captivity that awaited her, she might've gotten away. Now it was just her, alone against an entire forest filled with both shadow creatures... not to mention the forest tainted by the Shade Lord himself. Aerie swallowed, pushing away her fear. It would be no help here... all that mattered now were actions. Fighting to survive. And that fight began now.

A blast of spinning vines erupted from the forest around her, seeking out her limbs in an attempt to immobilize the cleric as she clenched her fists, leaping back as her robes billowed with the power she was summoning. White magic swirled around her as a Bolt of Glory sizzled from her hands and erupted in the midst of the darkness before her, seeking out the source of the vines, not the tendrils themselves. It flared brightly as it struck the trunk of a gigantic oak, sending splinters and pieces of wood flying. The wood creaked as the magic inside dissipated, letting it fall and crash to the ground. Aerie barely had time to hope that the noise would draw the attention of her friends- if they were still alive- as another set of possessed branches swung down from above, smashing the ground where she had been standing a brief moment ago.

Aerie came up from the dive she had made, hurriedly untangling herself from the rapidly dirtying long robes she wore. She raised her hands and let loose with the smooth and flawless incantations that made her such a powerful magic-user. A pillar of fire crashed down on the trees that had attacked her, ending their malice. A thin vine from behind her slid around one of her wrists, yanking her to the ground as another moved to ensnare her waist. She squirmed as the vegetation tightened it's grip, trying to choke the fight and the life out of her- her free hand grabbed the vine that bound her other wrist, trying desperately to get both hands free for the incantation she'd need to get out of this. With a pull of desperation-borne strength, both her hands were free, and she began the words to her most potent spell. She spoke quickly, knowing she'd only have one chance at this... she could hear the forest itself groan and rumble in horror, knowing what was coming.

Even as she finished her incantation, a braid of twisted branches wrapped around her throat, cutting off her voice... but it was too late. Underneath her, a circle of light erupted, burning away all the vegetation that was holding her down. She scrambled to her feet as the circle widened, encompassing more and more of the wood until finally... everything within the circle erupted in an uprush of blinding, searing light. The False Dawn only lasted a few seconds, but it was enough. Every piece of living forest within a thirty-foot radius was burned and dead, unmoving. Finally... Aerie's shoulders slumped as she allowed herself a moment of rest-

Two growls came from behind her; she spun to see two Shade Wolves sprinting from the darkness that still existed in the forest outside her circle of safety, their appearance just as disgusting and fearsome as when they had been attacked previously. She was still too exhausted to cast another spell for her to strike them down with, either clerical or arcane; her left hand swept down to the right side of her waist and gripped the handle of the weapon that hung there. She brought it in as strong a backswing as she could manage as one of the wolves leapt to tear her throat out.

Ordinarily, any blow struck by the petite elf would be a minor distraction for the undead beasts... this was no ordinary blow. The weapon she held more than made up for any deficiency in her body's strength; the Flail of Ages glowed equal parts blue, red, and green as all three heads struck the wolf at once. Fire licked at the beast's jaw as ice began covering its nose, acid eating away at its eye. It was an amalgam of elemental destruction, the wolf staggering back and forth as Aerie moved to finish the job. One more downswing and the creature was flat, unable to rise again.

Still, the time she had taken to finish her opponent had given the other wolf time to strike. Its blackened jaws bit down on her arm, sinking deep into the soft, pale flesh underneath. She cried out, letting go of the Flail as her hand jolted. It ripped and tore, coming away from the attack with a chunk of the Avariel's arm still in its mouth. Aerie felt the blood spill from her wound like water in a sieve, but there was time for healing later. If there even was a later. For all intents and purposes, her arm was useless until she could find time to concentrate on healing what was almost certainly a serious injury. She tried to utter the words to a spell- a spike of pain drove itself through her body, her mouth dry and stuttering as the spell fizzled. Aerie tried to calm herself, to slow her breaths, but her options were becoming limited. The wolf was between her and the Flail of Ages, and magic was going to be difficult without one hand for arcane gestures, to say nothing of the willpower it would take to complete spells while in such pain.

She swallowed, backing up further, towards the stump of a tree that was still on fire from her previous spell. She felt herself sway as the blood loss she was experiencing began to take its toll. The trail of blood that followed her glimmered in the firelight... it was dark red. Too red... the wolf stepped in the trail, shocking her out of the fog that was settling over her mind. Something in the saliva of the wolf... she shouldn't be going down this quickly, even wounded as she was. Time to worry about that later... her good arm dropped to pull her sling from its place on her left thigh. The same hand that now held the straps of the sling shook as it slid open the bullet pouch on her belt, dipping in and dropping it into the pouch as she swung it up and around her head, a long practiced gesture for fast strikes. Jaheira had taught her that fast draw technique... Jaheira...

The thought of Jaheira gave her focus, a goal to fight for. Greywulf needed her to help him get her back. She had to survive... she focused all her energy into a spell, fighting away every ounce of pain that threatened to disrupt her spellcraft. The apex of her magics was reached as the wolf finally overcame the hesitation brought on by the fire behind her; it took a running start, making a beeline for Aerie as she let go of one end of the sling, letting the bullet fly. It struck the wolf in the side, normally a mildly uncomfortable strike but nothing to worry about. Not here. The bullet had been enhanced by her spells- it took the form of a Sol's Searing Orb, and it ripped through the body of the Shade Wolf without slowing. The fiery wound sent the wolf tumbling head over heel, coming to a stop by Aerie's feet. The Avariel stared down at her defeated opponent, as though just taking in what had happened... her legs gave out, and she dropped to the ground beside it.

The world spun around her, and she could feel her stomach ready to upturn. Fighting it back, Aerie tried to begin the words to a Cure Disease, but it was far too late. Her speech was slurred and nonsensical mush; Her good hand dropped the sling and slipped into her pack, shaking all the while. Spots began fading in and out of her vision as she uncorked the potion she'd drawn, not even looking at it before she downed what she could, feeling some of the strangely cold liquid spill out of the corner of her mouth and trickle down her chin. Her eyelids fluttered- she prayed the potion had been what she needed it to be, but it was a matter of luck now.

A funny feeling, like pins and needles on her skin was dancing around her arm, and she managed to turn her head long enough to see the exposed bone and muscle near her elbow grow back, regenerating as the Potion of Heal did its work. She coughed, her back arching as the disease inside her began wracking her body with pain, slowly deadening her muscles.

A gurgle beside her made her blood freeze, as the wolf she had thought dead pushed itself up, clawing and dragging its limp body forward with a bloody, savage rage. It was about to expire, but it wanted the one who had killed it. Funny... Aerie thought with fading coherency as her newly healed arm rose to push feebly at the inexorable wolf. Wrong potion after all. Saved from a slow death by bleeding out, only to be torn open by the wolf she thought she'd killed. Her arm failed her within moments, and every bit of resistance she'd tried to muster left her, Aerie's body disease ridden and paralyzed.

The wolf shuddered once, then leaned in to tear her heart out.


	93. Part 3: The Best Laid Plans

_Author's Note: Just as a bit of a disclaimer... I don't promote forest fires. Unless it's a sentient forest that's trying to kill you. In that case, light 'er up. _

Creaking... groaning. The weight of the mammoth branches and trunks of the ancient forest of Umar filled the air with noise and clamor, a dull rumbling that could have been coming from a rockslide on the highest mountain in Faerun... or a canyon in the depths of the earth that was ready to collapse. It was loud, permeating and drowning out every other sound in the area- and at the same time, it was a whisper, a faint echo that made the slightest distraction more thunderous and terrible than it could ever have been otherwise.

Underneath it all, buried deep beneath the foliage, the leaf and wood and vine that darkened the lands with impenetrable magics of shadow and death, crept a pair of intruders, men who were unwilling to give up, unwilling to accept the finality and the inevitability that pressed at their spirits. One fought out of a sense of love. Drawn to restore the life and the light of his world- the woman he loved and was unwilling to let slip into the abyss of undeath- even at the cost of his life, and the lives of his friends.

The other fought from something far... different. From a darker place in his heart. It was not out of love, or out of loyalty. Not to say he didn't feel such things for those he traveled by, but it was not why he fought. Not for friendship, and certainly not out of the goodness of his heart. Solaufein fought for something else entirely.

A vine swept downwards, aiming to wrap itself around the legs of the wizard who remained unprotected, burdened with carrying the body of Jaheira as he deftly sidestepped the strikes and attacks of the wood surrounding them. He hopped, tucking his legs up as he left the ground, taking himself just out of reach of the shadow vegetation. His boots came down atop the extended vine, and even as it tugged to reclaim itself, hoping to topple him, hope was extinguished. A gleaming silver blade, edged and forged with the magics of the Githyanki, swept down and cleaved it in two, sending the remnants slithering back into the darkness.

Greywulf glanced toward the source of his rescue, even as he tried to strengthen the hold he had on Jaheira's ashen form. The drow elf was a blur... he swept in and out of the darkness, almost as though becoming one with it in his movements. Two limbs, as thick as his own waist, came crashing in from both left and right, giving him only one option. He narrowed his eyes, waiting for the perfect timing... he swept forward, leaping before his body was turned to nothing more than paste between the mighty tree limbs. His half-elven dexterity was just enough- he landed on top of the limbs, one foot resting on each. He looked up at the two trees that were currently supporting him, studied them, then made a split-second decision.

The limbs swept away from each other, but Greywulf had already chosen his path. He moved with purpose as his path began heading downhill, the limb rising and changing his trajectory drastically. His uphill climb rapidly became a sliding path downwards- he gripped Jaheira tighter, feeling his already aching arms scream in protest. Carrying her body for so long was beginning to take its toll; he wouldn't be able to manage this for much longer. He lowered his center of gravity, feeling his traction slip as he began to lose any chances of controlling his descent, the slope rapidly becoming nothing more than a drop. He managed one last push with his legs, launching himself horizontally off of the tree. This... this would be the hardest part.

He let one arm release Jaheira, dipping down to his belt and gripping an orange tinted potion that was clasped there. He felt her body shift, beginning to slide from his other arm's grip- damn! Too weak... he wouldn't be able to control her, or himself... the hand that gripped the potion flung it downwards, his whole acrobatic stunt designed to do nothing more than get him high enough to gain a clear shot at the middle of the tree's bulk. The Oil of Fiery Burning cracked and shattered on impact, igniting the whole tree in orange and red tongues of fire that licked and consumed everything within reach. He could feel the heat reach out and brush his feet and legs, setting alight the bottom edges of his robes. Even so, that wasn't what concerned him; his grip was too far gone, and he could do nothing but watch in horror as Jaheira slipped from him, tumbling to the ground- Solaufein's form blurred into existence, catching the falling body before it cracked against the ground.

Not that it stopped his fall- he hit hard, gritting his teeth as he felt the pain brought on by the flames be drowned out by a sharp crack as he landed directly on his left shoulder. He could feel the bone shift and he didn't even bother trying to move that arm as he tried to concentrate enough to call on a water cantrip. Solaufein was already moving toward the tree that was on fire with Jaheira in tow, even as Greywulf used his legs to push himself toward the small bit of safe haven they'd made for themselves. Even as the forest stopped its assault, Greywulf could feel his breaths coming quicker, in short bursts that were getting out of hand. He had to calm himself- his trembling right hand moved to take hold of his left; he glanced down at his shoulder and cursed, eyes rising in both agony and frustration.

The out-of-place bulge spoke to a massively dislocated shoulder- and as much as Greywulf would like to have been the epitome of manliness in this situation and yank it back into place on his own, he was in far too much pain to even think of attempting it. Moving the rest of his body was a chore enough after the gauntlet they'd been pushed through- he saw movement at his side, his eyes widening as he saw Solaufein setting Jaheira down, then grabbing his wrist with one hand, his upper arm with the other. He hissed in pain, knowing what the drow was about to do- Solaufein said nothing, only brought Greywulf's lower arm parallel with the ground, flat to his chest... then slammed it outward. The shoulder popped loudly, sending Greywulf to the ground with a howl of pain and watering eyes. He looked up at Solaufein, the drow already moving back to heft Jaheira back to Greywulf's care. "She's dead. The fall wouldn't have hurt her. As we can see... you were not quite so lucky."

"Thanks for your concern." Greywulf rapsed, kneeling by Jaheira as he waited for some semblance of strength to return to his upper body. "Do you even know where we are? Where the Temple Ruins are at?"

"Yes, and yes." Solaufein murmured quietly, watching the forest around them slowly shrink, trying to avoid catching fire as well. Several trees and plants had been unable to remove themselves in time, eventually clearing a fairly good sized area for them to take a breather. "To the northeast. We're still too far out to make a break for it..."

"What other choice do we have?" Greywulf asked, glancing up at the warrior, whose gaze was already focused in the direction he was certain they needed to travel. "We-"

A blast of light shone in the tree line to the north- it was faint, but there was no natural light that could possibly have pierced the darkness they were engulfed within. Greywulf stared at the fading light, then nodded with satisfaction as it faded from white to reds and oranges, dim but still visible. "Aerie... or Imoen. Looks like they had the same idea."

"Then we'll need to meet up with them; I've already proven I can navigate through this place." Solaufein glanced back at Greywulf, hefting the Vorpal Sword again. "I shall bring them back here."

He didn't wait for Greywulf's response, whether in favor or against. No... he was used to doing things on his own, and depending on nobody else. It's how he'd survived in the Underdark... he was afraid of no man. No spell or sword had felled him below, and he'd not see it happen on the surface. With or without his companions. Without them... he grit his teeth and threw himself into the darkness, leaving Greywulf alone with Jaheira's body. Greywulf struggled to his feet, still holding his aching arm with the other. He looked around, hearing the rumbling around him grow louder with the departure of Solaufein. "Come on then." he spat, a feral grin crossing his face as adrenaline provided him with a new furor. "Bring whatever you like-"

The sound of chittering caught his attention as he sighted the glow of several black, sword-like legs flashing through the outskirts of his vision. He muttered a set of incantations, hurling a fireball at the darkness; it exploded, illuminating three sword spiders that were caught in the glow of the blast. They regarded him for a moment... and then charged, all twenty-four legs skittering over the forest floor as they bore down on him.

Solaufein pushed through the deepening foliage, ignoring the pressure of the darkness, crowding and crushing in around him. His eyes pierced the shadows without trouble or question- to him, the fires in the distance were as clear as day. The drow elf's armor was strong, if not as protective as the adamantine plating he had worn in the Underdark. Consequently, when he heard guttural growls echo from both sides of him, he turned and left his back open without question; in return, his blade came up and impaled the leaping Shade Wolf in one swift stroke. He felt the impact of the other as it tackled him to the ground, claws raking scratches into the back of his armor. He rolled with great effort, throwing the beast from him as it landed on its feet, snarling and drooling black saliva.

His blade was useless- until he could removed the other wolf from it, he wouldn't be able to wield it effectively. Not that the second of his foes would give him the chance. He saw the slicked and matted fur, the bloody jaws and bloodshot, black-veined eyes. It snarled and attacked again; Solaufein raised both arms protectively, crossing his wrists in front of his uncovered neck. The wolf brought him to the ground with its sheer mass as its breath blasted into his face, jaws just a few inches above his face.

The sound of a girl's scream echoed through the wood, alongside another set of howls. All from the direction of the flames he had seen. The tones were too high to be Imoen- Aerie was in trouble. No way Greywulf would make it in time, not carrying Jaheira with him. He took a deep breath, curling his lip as he prepared to strike... he bellowed with fury, both hands grabbing the other by the wrist as he swung his protective gauntlets to the right, his elbow cracking against the wolf's jaw. It was a weak and awkward attack, but enough to take the creature by surprise. Solaufein was able to gain the slightest bit of freedom from the wolf's embrace, only to turn and tackle the wolf himself, wrapping both of his muscular arms around the wolf's neck. It spat and flailed, but Solaufein only held tighter, feeling the bones underneath crack and break as he glanced at the area where Aerie was fighting for her life.

One final twitch- the wolf's struggles ceased, giving Solaufein the freedom to leap to his feet, grab the hilt of his sword and kick the dead weight off of it, then make a break for it. He bolted through the forest, avoiding or ignoring any attempts by the wood to block his path- a wall of brambles and branches swept together before him, trying to keep him from rejoining Aerie. His blade made two cuts, and he plowed through, lowering his head as he barreled past the blockade. The clearing, still alight here and there with the fires of Aerie's magic, finally came into view- as did the sight of Aerie, lying motionless at the mercy of a Shade Wolf, its jaws over her throat as it prepared to gorge itself on her soft flesh. Still a hundred feet away at best. He wasn't going to be fast enough... he was going to fail. No! He never failed in the Underdark; he would not fail on the surface. He'd show everyone- his mind raced through a dozen possibilities, until he found the only one that might possibly save her life.

Solaufein gripped the stone he kept at his side, activating its powerful magic; a dimension door split open in his path as he leapt through, closing his eyes as he traveled through time and space, the other portal opening up at Aerie's side. He slammed into the side of the wolf, sending it tumbling from Aerie's body as Solaufein raised his blade, preparing to thrust it downward- it was already dead, a seared hole in it's side. He regarded it for a second longer, then stood up, moving to Aerie's side. Her eyes were slits, a dark tint to her skin as she lay there, unmoving. He frowned, unsure of how to help her; poison, disease... a combination? A simple concussion? He noticed the empty flask by her side, the remnants of a potion that she'd drank... or attempted to drink. He grabbed her pack, tossing it open and looking inside at the numerous flasks with a sinking feeling. Damn. Drow potions were so much easier to recognize.

He sheathed the Vorpal Sword, gathered her pack onto his own shoulders, then lifted her body and turned back to Greywulf's location. He'd know how to help her better than he- a flash of dark green issued through the clearing Greywulf had been in; Solaufein cursed in frustration. This forest would be the death of them all if they couldn't get moving.

Greywulf lowered his right arm, sinking to his knees as his chest heaved from exertion. It had taken the last of his strength to cast that spell. Necromancy was always a touchy school of magic for him; the forces were so dark and yet so powerful... a Death Spell had killed all three of his foes at once, but the effort had left him defenseless. His head rolled back, staring up at the forest canopy- it was unyielding and unrelenting. He couldn't be anything less if he was going to accomplish his mission. Couldn't stop now. Had to keep going... had to save her-

"Greywulf!"

Solaufein's husky tones brought the sorcerer back to earth, his eyes quickly focusing their blurred vision on the drow and the unmoving form of Aerie that was resting in his arms. "Aerie! Is she-"

"She's alive... but she needs help, and I don't know what potion of hers does what." he growled, bringing her to Greywulf's side as he knelt down beside him, gently nesting the Avariel beside Jaheira. Greywulf examined her for a moment, feeling the heat of her skin-

He dug through her pack, finally settling on a potion with a distinct red tint. "Red for diseases, green for poisons, blue for healing." the sorcerer tossed at Solaufein as he uncorked the potion and tipped Aerie's mouth open slightly, hoping she was aware enough to drink. Apparently so, for in a few moments, her skin cooled and returned to its natural warmth, her body unstiffening as she opened her eyes fully. She gasped as her breaths returned in full, putting one hand on her stomach in relief as she looked at her two rescuers. "T-thanks..."

"As long as you're all right; we don't have time to linger." Greywulf helped Aerie to her feet, though the strain on the shoulder that had so recently been dislocated caused his face to contort in pain as she got to her feet. The sharp-eyed Avariel took note; he waved it off, trying not to move that particular arm as he ground out an excuse. "It's nothing..."

Aerie scowled and pulled the robes at Greywulf's shoulder downward, enough to reveal the massive swelling that had taken place. She glared at Greywulf with irritation, then turned to Solaufein. "We need a place to heal and rest, if only for a moment. Isn't there any place that will be safe around here?"

His trips back and forth through the forest finally bore fruit- Solaufein pointed into the darkness, toward the clearing Aerie had fought her battles in. "Halfway between here and there- I spotted what looked like a cavern. No idea what's inside, but-"

"But if it's got one exit and one entrance, without a living forest trying to crush us, it'll do." Greywulf cut him off. "Solaufein, I can't lift Jaheira... not with my arm like this. If you can-"

He growled and picked her up, glaring darkly at Greywulf. "You never should have brought her. Her presence is a vessel for the Shade Lord to inhabit at best, a liability for us at worst."

Aerie took lead, an Agannazar's Scorcher from her hands burning their path clear and keeping them safe from the predations of the forest. Greywulf hobbled along beside Solaufein, stubborn anger in his voice as he defended his decisions. "She is the only reason we're here. We don't turn back until she's alive."

"Then you're as single-minded and foolish as the Matrons of the Underdark." he didn't bother to look at Greywulf as he continued onward, a tight smile crossing his face as the cave he had mentioned came into view. "They cared for nothing more than gaining power and accomplishing their goals. Those who aided them were fodder to be used, those who stood in their way were nothing more than annoyances to be crushed. Beginning to sound familiar, isn't it."

He continued on inside the cave, even as Greywulf paused for a moment, wanting to retort... he shut his mouth, following deeper and deeper inside the cavern entrance. It turned into more of a tunnel than a simple cave- it stretched far, a rocky tunnel than was only lit by the magics of Aerie's design. Dust and dirt covered the rocky walls, and as the tunnel finally widened into an opening of sorts, it became abundantly clear where they were. Old patches of fur were strewn about and long worn spots spoke to the resting, possibly even birthing places, of the wolf inhabitants. Bones of both human and animal origin were also piled up; Solaufein walked to the back of the clearing and set Jaheira's body down, glancing back at the tunnel they'd come through to make sure they had not been followed.

"The wolf packs Merella wrote about in her journal... this must have been one of their dens." Aerie muttered, already moving to Greywulf's side as her hands gently brushed the swollen flesh, her magics seeping through the skin and beginning the process of healing.

"Maybe." Solaufein responded quietly, sitting down on a particularly large rock as he unsheathed the Vorpal blade and began wiping the remnants of fur and blood from it. "This place has been abandoned. From Merella's description and our own experiences, I'd say that the Shade Lord has taken possession of the pack."

Before anyone could say more, the cavern began rumbling, small pieces of rock tumbling from their places in both the ceiling and the walls. It was a steady beat that grew louder and louder until it echoed directly above them, accompanied by a groundshaking roar. Solaufein grimaced, looking up with a hint of nervousness. "The Shadow Dragon... it's looking for us."

"Do you think it'll find its way in?" Aerie whispered, slowly removing herself from Greywulf's side as she looked up at the ceiling of the cave, her fear of enclosed spaces and Dragons combining themselves in her mind to create a less-than-ideal situation for the Avariel.

"Doubtful it could even fit." Solaufein shook his head, though he moved his gaze to the entrance tunnel and didn't take his eyes off it. "The shadows can sense our life force... they know we're near, but it'll take time for them to find us if we keep moving. Staying here will let them focus on us. We have to keep moving or this place will become nothing more than a tomb."

Greywulf listened intently... his gaze slowly moved down to Jaheira's form. He had promised to do everything necessary to save her. He wouldn't allow anything less than that... and yet, it was at the cost of his companions, his family, that he was carrying this out. Solaufein was right. Imoen had been right. Keldorn had been right. He was still different... and whether it was simply the loss of his soul, his grief over losing Jaheira... there was no time to dwell on the past. He could still make things right in the here and now.

"Aerie. Do you know where Imoen is?"

Her face devolved to one of shame and guilt as he felt a sinking feeling in the pit of his stomach, knowing what she was about to say. "I... we were separated. She saved me from being captured, but they got her instead. I'm sorry..."

He swallowed, and then made his decision without hesitation or remorse. "All right. Both of you will go to the Temple Ruins and rescue Imoen and Minsc. Find the Shade Lord and kill him; once his influence over this place is gone, I'll come up with Jaheira. Until then, I'll stay here and defend us."

"You're crazy." Solaufein shook his head, standing to his full height. "Didn't you hear what I just said? The longer you stay in one place, the easier it will be for the Shadows to find you. You stay here and you'll have every shadow in the Shade Lord's command crawling down this tunnel to try and claim your body for their own."

"This will give you and Aerie a free shot into the Ruins, and hopefully clear out most of the guards who would be blocking your path." Greywulf replied calmly, taking a breath. "If we're lucky, the Shadow Dragon will still be out here, trying to get to me as well-"

Another booming roar echoed through the forest, as the sound of thudding wings beating their way through the air faintly made their way into the cavern. They faded away, coming from the direction of the Temple Ruins. "Or not." Greywulf cursed, dropping to a seated position as he began to center himself, drawing all the magic he could muster to his command. "We don't have much time... I get the feeling Imoen and Minsc aren't just sitting around, waiting for us to find them. You both should get moving. Nobody else will die because of me."

Solaufein regarded him for a moment longer... he nodded with a tight smile at the corners of his mouth, Aerie following close. She paused briefly, taking a moment to look back at him, catching his eyes with sadness before she left. "It wasn't your fault she died."

She turned away, knowing he didn't believe her.

X X X X X X

"Behind you!"

Minsc frowned in confusion as the halfling warrior in front of him turned and leapt through the space between his legs to come up and slash at a Shadow Fiend that had crept up behind the ranger in the midst of battle. It recoiled from Mazzy's blade, but not fast enough. The tip of her short sword pierced the fiend's chest, sending it to its knees. Another slash to behead it, and the living darkness was swept away. Minsc grinned at the sight as Mazzy climbed to her feet, their foes dispatched for the moment.

After freeing the two warriors from their bonds, Imoen had helped them reacquire their equipment before navigating out of the cells. It wasn't long after they had left their old prison behind that their foes had surrounded them again. Creeping from every crack, crevice and opening in the halls of the Temple, they had fought non-stop for nearly five minutes before the attacks slowed. Mazzy claimed to have more knowledge of their surroundings, or at the very least an idea of where they might be able to find some semblance of safety. Still, every time she led them on, the ambushes and attacks multiplied.

"We're getting close." Mazzy said breathlessly. "They cannot afford to let us reach our destination, or we will be beyond their reach."

"Then lead us onward!" Minsc laughed. "You are such a sight in battle, young Mazzy! Boo has keen interest in the small, and Minsc takes great joy in the honor of combat, so you are doubly worthy of leading us!"

Mazzy paused for a moment, looking back at the ranger with questions in her eyes and a raised eyebrow. "I must confess, I don't quite know if I can take your words as they are, or if they carry some hidden meaning or riddle that must be solved. I trust you are approving of my skills then, Minsc?"

"I could not be more so! Don't look for subtle messages, I keep nothing hidden." Minsc shook his head with a serious expression across his face. "I help the weak and leave evil in my boot print. You are similar... Boo can tell."

Mazzy tried to hide a smile, then glanced down at the hamster, still scurrying across Minsc's dirtied arm before returning to rest on the ranger's shoulder pauldron. "Ahh yes, Boo. Your animal companion and guide, I believe. I have had friends with such attachments before, but never have I met someone so... absorbed in the relationship. Still, you seem all the better for it."

Imoen piped up, raising her bow with a flame arrow at the ready as the hiss of shadow creatures echoed from behind them. "Um... can we talk later? Safety now?"

Mazzy nodded, hefting her enchanted blade higher as she took off down the halls of the Temple, Imoen and Minsc close behind. The sound of the shadows shrieking behind them was getting louder- Imoen glanced behind them, then yelled at Mazzy, who was proving just as nimble as the members of her race were reputed to be. "Mazzy! Where are we headed?"

"To the Hall of Lights!" she shouted back, the locks of her hair bouncing up and down as she ran, making quick cuts and turns along the path they walked, keeping both of her followers on their toes if they wanted to keep up. Her eyes widened as a wraith materialized in her path, taking a swing at her before she could raise her sword to block- Minsc's Sword of Chaos was thrust over her head and into the creature's mouth. It sagged and disappeared, opening their path once more as Imoen spun around and sighted the horde of shadows that had slowly been gaining on them. She ran with her back to Minsc's, launching flame arrows from her bow as quickly as she could manage. Her stock was running low- too may targets to hit them all. Imoen loosed three more, before reaching for another, only to glance back and see her empty quiver. Well, not quite empty.

Imoen grimaced, having rather hoped to save this last arrow for something more... but desperate times, desperate measures. She drew the green-fletched arrow from her quiver, nocking it to her bow and pulling back, using her fingers to let the unwieldy ball of magic that rested behind the broadhead settle and lay still. She took aim- the bow string made a distinct twang as she loosed the arrow. It flew unsteadily, weighed by the extra ball of magic next to the arrowhead, but still struck true. It pierced the shadow first in line... and then engulfed them all in an explosion of flame and death. The explosion rocked the entire hallway as the three adventurers finally tumbled out of the bottleneck. Imoen looked up at the results of the Arrow of Detonation; it had all but collapsed the passageway, as well as vaporizing any shadow in the area. She grinned, then finally took note of her location... "Wow."

Mazzy smiled, breathing a sigh of relief. "Behold the Hall of Lights! The one place in this entire Temple that will grant us a modicum of safety. No creature of shadow will venture here, whether it be the Shade Lord himself or his great beast."

It was a dome-like structure, with intricate patterns and carvings of the sun that covered the pillars and the ceiling. The ground was covered in runes that long since faded, filling with dirt and cracks so as to make them illegible. All around the domelike ceiling were what looked like mirrors, though most were cracked and dirtied beyond repair. They encircled the whole of the ceiling, and had they all been in pristine condition, it was easy to see how the whole room could have been illuminated, assuming there had been a simple light source to ignite the whole thing. That source was still lit- if only barely. In the center of the room was a pedestal, upon which rested a crystal that was easily the size of Mazzy herself. It glowed with an inner light, enough to drive all but the furthest shadows out of the room entirely. Had its power been stronger, they would never have been able to look at it directly, much less the mirrors above. Still, it provided enough sanctity for them to refrain from any sort of judgment about its effectiveness.

"How did you know about this place?" Imoen whispered, looking around as though desperately wanting to believe they'd found some measure of safety, though not quite willing to believe it after everything they had been through. "I doubt they gave you the grand tour when you were brought here."

"No... not hardly." Mazzy smiled, taking the time to rest herself, leaning against one of the crumbling walls as she sank to the ground, sheathing her blade for the moment. "As a knight, I knew it was my duty to both me and my troupe to learn everything I could about this danger before setting out. I cannot count the times where my investigations beforehand saved the lives of one, if not all of us."

"Where are they now? I didn't see anyone else in those cells..." Imoen trailed off as she realized just what had happened. "I'm sorry, Mazzy."

The halfling warrior's eyes hardened at the thought of her former companions; she looked up at Imoen and Minsc with fire in her eyes. "There was nothing more I... or any of us, could have done. We slew hundreds of the shadows as we pushed through the ruins of the Temple of Amaunator. We came here, healed ourselves, then prepared for the final push into the Shade Lord's sanctum. He awaited us at the Altar of Light- an altar he had corrupted to serve as the focal point of the darkness that spreads through the forest. He inhabits the body of Merella, and though it gives him form, he cannot hold onto this realm through her for much longer. He needs another host... and he offered to let us live as his servants should I become his new host. We attacked him, but he had yet to unleash his final servant. The Shadow Dragon descended upon us without warning, without mercy."

"Minsc has met this creature." the ranger offered solemnly. "There is no shame in your defeat, Mazzy."

"Not if I had joined my friends, my Patrick!" Mazzy raged, her anger bubbling to the surface as she tightened her fists. "If the Shade Lord had granted me a death beside my friends... then, I could have died at peace, knowing I had done all that was possible. Instead, he merely forced me to watch as my companions were each indwelt with new hosts, overshadowing their souls and becoming part of their undead army. My beloved... he is nothing more than a mindless corpse, now. And I would have been next- at the stroke of midnight he planned to take me for his own."

"Believe me when I say we know what you're going through." Imoen said gently, resting one hand on her shoulder as Mazzy glanced up at the kind rogue. "We've come here to resurrect a friend... she was killed while infected with vampirism. We've heard that the Altar of Light will restore her... the rest of our friends should be arriving soon. Once they're here..."

"We'll avenge Patrick and the others." Mazzy said, inhaling deeply as she attempted to find peace within. "I... forgive me. Such rage, such hatred is not befitting of a knight. If you have companions that are on their way, we should take this moment to recuperate and plan. Is there anything you wish to know about this place? As I said, my research into this temple could prove to be most valuable."

"Well... everything you know would be a great place to start." Imoen tossed out nonchalantly. "S'not like we're going anywhere."

Mazzy chuckled, then nodded as Minsc and Imoen moved closer to listen to the halfling's words. "My companions and I were hired by Minister Lloyd of Imnesvale to find the ranger Merella, as well as to look into the rash of killings that has plagued the area. We found Merella's journal, which mentioned the unholy darkening of this land. The local legends tell of how the Shade Lord was struck down by Amaunator ages ago."

"And now it makes its residence here. Nice." Imoen snorted. "Any chance we might get some help from the sun god while we're here?"

"Not likely. I fear that Amauanator's power is all but gone... the crystals that once lit each room have become dim, faded with both time and the corruption by shadow magic." Mazzy glanced up at the gem that lit the room, before digging through one of the pouches on her belt, removing small fragments of crystal, the size of small stones. "This room contains the greatest of all the light gems; the others are shattered or dead, as you can see. I gathered pieces of the gems as we traveled from room to room, hoping they might be of some use."

"Hmm... Boo says they might not be dead just yet." Minsc leaned over and picked up a piece of the crystal from Mazzy's hand, holding it up as it began glowing brightly.

"Yes... of course." Mazzy brightened as she stood, holding her hands open, presenting them to the lit crystal in the middle of the room. "These have been darkened by the shadows. Given the chance to be illuminated again, their magics are returning. For all the good it shall do us- shattered like this, they will not hold their magics for any length of time, not once they have been removed from the presence of this light."

"So what you're saying is that we're good and screwed." Imoen sighed, staring up at the mirrors that covered the ceiling of the Hall of Lights. "We... hnh. Huh. One, two, three, four, five..."

"Six and seven, yes, Minsc is good at counting as well, but he does not understand. What is Imoen talking about?" the ranger glanced at Imoen who was still counting the mirrors that were inlaid across the ceiling, the girl staggering back and forth as she kept counting. "Mazzy?"

"I am in the dark as well, so to speak." Mazzy admitted, wincing at the unintentional pun. "Ah... forgive me for that."

"Nah. Reminds me of Greywulf." Imoen grinned, stopping her count as she looked back down at her companions. "Sometimes I'm a genius, y'know that? How far away is the lair of this big ol' lizard, hmm?"

Mazzy frowned but raised her arm to point- the whole temple rumbled, echoing with the roar of the very creature they were speaking of. "That way. It's not too far- we opened the gates that barred the direct path when my companions and I came this way the first time. If we move now, it would be little more than a straight path that would devolve into a stairwell large enough for the dragon to climb through. Speaking of which, I believe the beast has returned."

"Do you think it got one of the others?" Imoen asked Minsc with new worry in her eyes.

"No... more likely the creature has been called to protect its master." Mazzy said with a grimace. "I told you, Merella's body grows weak. For the first time in years, the Shade Lord is without a new host to devour since our escape. If we were willing to wait here for another month or so, I imagine the Shade Lord would finally expire, assuming he was unable to find a new host to overshadow. His power is at its weakest right now... and with us on the loose, it cannot afford to be unprotected."

"So what you're saying is that if we can get past the Shadow Dragon, we'll be set." Imoen said, her smile rapidly returning. "Lucky for us that I figured out how to slay our giant-sized friend, eh?"

"If you truly have such a plan... then we're all ears."

Solaufein's deep voice caught their attention as his broad figure slipped into the light on the opposite side of the room, passing through with Aerie close behind. Minsc's face blossomed in cheer as he saw Aerie- he veritably ran to her, embracing the Avariel tightly. "Ah-ha! Minsc's witch is unharmed; he has not failed in his task! We were so worried for your safety!"

Aerie merely smiled in reply, simply relieved to see all of them alive and well. "I missed you too... you and Imoen."

"And you are?" Mazzy said cautiously, her hand going to the hilt of her short blade as she eyed Solaufein. It took Imoen a moment of confusion before she realized why Mazzy was so suspicious. "Oh! Ah, its fine, Mazzy. He's one of us."

"You are aware he is a drow? One of the scourges of the Underdark?" Mazzy tossed behind her, still unwavering as she stared Solaufein down; the drow warrior walked past her, standing at Imoen's side with a stony gaze.

"I am her protector, as Minsc protects Aerie, I protect Imoen. If you take issue with this, then I suggest you find your own way out of this place."

Imoen glanced behind her, smiling wryly at the drow. "I don't remember asking for a protector."

"You didn't... but that doesn't mean you don't need one." Solaufein murmured in response as Mazzy nodded with hesitation, lowering her guard. She walked to the man, bowing slightly.

"Excuse my suspicions, then. If you are a friend of the one who freed me from my bonds, then you have my respect as well. I presume these were the companions you spoke of, Imoen?"

Imoen looked around, frowning as she noted who was yet missing. "Almost... Aerie, where's Greywulf? He and Jaheira-"

"Stayed behind." Aerie sighed, shaking her head. "They stayed out there, hoping to draw the attention of the shadows so that we'd have a clearer path to the Shade Lord. Carrying Jaheira here would have been too difficult anyway... the shadows might've gotten to her body."

"Ah, but he will be fine!" Minsc said triumphantly. "We have killed a Red Dragon before, and now Imoen will tell us how to kill the Shadow Dragon! Minsc does not see the problem."

"Let's just hope whatever scheme you've come up with works." Aerie shook her head, thinking of Suldenesselar and the elves there. "There's a lot more at stake here than just our lives."

"Hmm? I sense there is more to your travels than mere adventuring." Mazzy said, raising one eyebrow. "A simple troupe does not kill Red Dragons and speak of it as though it were a battle against goblins."

"Trust me, it wasn't…" Imoen said, rubbing the scars she still had from her battle with Firkraag. "Let's just say that our friend Greywulf is a special guy…"

X X X X X X

"Stop. _Now._"

The paladin's final word was set in such a tone that, to be quite frank, there was little chance anyone including the wolfwere that currently held him, would disobey. The creature that had been Cernd had not stopped running since they'd left the town of Trademeet; there was no chance that the mob would have followed them, especially in the direction they had traveled. Thanks to the wolfwere's quickness, they had already traversed most of the distance to the druid grove. Not to say that Keldorn was particularly pleased. His glare did not leave the giant beast as its loping gait slowly came to a crawl, finally ceasing as it bent down, setting Keldorn onto his feet.

The wolf-were growled, but the quiet tones of Cernd echoed inside Keldorn's head. _"I apologize for the abruptness of my transformation. We had no time to go over our plan in greater depth-"_

The paladin walked up to the wolf-were, poking it in the chest once with a scowl on his face. "Don't do that again."

Cernd howled, his form slowly returning to him as the beast inside faded away. The druid found himself short of breath as he grew accustomed to his human form once more; he managed a slight smile at the stoic-faced paladin. "I shall attempt to keep from alarming you again, my friend. After all, we are on the same side."

"Of course." Keldorn replied easily, only feeling slightly more at ease after his harrowing experience. No, he might not have been in danger... but by Torm, getting carried around by a wolfwere like a sack of potatoes was not on his list of things to ever experience again.

Cernd chuckled as he stretched his arms, the muscles of his bare chest rippling as he strode past Keldorn, continuing their path towards the druid grove. "I sense you do not trust me yet. Does my manner unsettle you, or is it your inability to read good or evil in my aura?"

Keldorn inhaled sharply; it was something he was so used to, detecting the intent in people around him that when he could not, it felt as though he was missing a part of him. The ability to detect evil was part of every paladin, and using it became second nature to many who followed the righteous path. Still, he could read absolutely nothing from Cernd, much the same way he could read nothing from Jaheira. He seemed honest enough and his words were settling, but Keldorn had experienced far too many betrayals to take the druid at his word.

"Perhaps. For now, I suggest we simply continue on. I did not mention this, but I have little time. Tomorrow, at noon, to be exact. We have less than a day to find the source of these troubles." Keldorn noted, purposely avoiding any references to Suldenesselar or the elves. At least until he was sure of Cernd's motives.

"Can I do anything to allay your fears? As I said, I would not wish for mistrust to interfere with the completion of our respective quests."

"Nay, I will learn to trust you in time, or we will not be overlong together. It comes-"

Keldorn's words were cut off by a shout from the woods before them, a thin man with the furs and air of a druid stepping out from the foliage with a warning on his tongue and face. "I give you fair warning, interlopers, that this area is under the protection of the druids of Tethyr! If you do not leave, you will face nature's wrath!"

"That was quick." Keldorn remarked, glancing at Cernd. "Not that you were especially subtle in our entrance to this grove..."

"And by what authority do you make this threat, Elseth?" Cernd asked calmly, though the intensity to his eyes and the slight command to his voice replaced any semblance of overt easiness to his manner that had been there before. "This is not the way of right-thinking servants of nature. Explain yourself."

"Cernd!" the druid stepped back with a look of surprise on his face. His quarterstaff lowered somewhat, though his frame still showed him to be tense. Oddly enough, it seemed more at Cernd's presence than Keldorn's. "You… you have been away for some time. Much has changed in your absence."

Cernd stepped over to the man, his manner more tense than ever at his approach. Cernd did not strike, but maintained the calm to his voice and features that Keldorn had seen him carry so far. He put one hand on Elseth's shoulder and said, "So I can see, though I am confused. I was nearly killed by a mob in Trademeet whose fear of this grove... our people... it overrode any common sense they might have had. I scarcely had a chance to speak before I was tied and nearly burned to death. If not for the intervention of this paladin, I would not have made it here alive."

"You brought an outsider to our grove?" the druid questioned, but Cernd quickly drew his gaze again.

"He is investigating the darkness that spreads here, as am I. The Grand Druid has not heard good things about what has happened to this grove. Attacks, threats, brutality. When I was last here, we were known as the friends and watchers of the forest, not the enforcers of a martial law, nor the aggressors in a war against the city that nobody has bothered to declare."

"It… it is the new way, Cernd." Elseth's head turned a bit, unwilling to meet Cernd's gaze any longer. Embarrassment mixed with shame lined the edges of his voice as he continued. "We have a new leader to follow, and she has moved us in this direction."

"She?" Cernd's calm slipped for a moment into surprise. "What of Gragus? Was he not the Great Druid of this wood and this grove?"

"He… was, Cernd. He has since been… replaced." the word was distasteful, and Elseth stammered for a moment, trying to find an explanation that would suffice. "Faldorn is the new leader's name, and no one has dared challenge her as of yet."

"Replaced?" Cernd's voice took on a lower tone, his eyes narrowing to eagle slits.

"I know he was your friend, Cernd… I supported him, but the battle was too much for him to handle. She challenged him after a prolonged skirmish with the troll mound. He had to accept, you know this."

"And you did not intervene on his behalf? Did nobody see the dangers present?" Cernd demanded. "Above all this…. You follow like ants and do her foul deeds? Does nobody in this grove have the courage to face her?"

"She is not one of the druids you are thinking of, Cernd. She is a Shadow Druid, and very… violent. She took over and killed those who opposed her initially. That and she-" Elseth's voice caught for a moment, as if he were unwilling to finish the sentence.

"What… what did she do? What makes you fear enough that you would not avenge Gragus' death?" Cernd asked darkly.

"She… bonded with the grove. She is invulnerable outside of challenges, and you know as well as I that Shadow Druids thrive on one-on-one combat." the druid said quietly, as though uttering a sacrilege too great to speak. From the shocked reaction by Cernd, it was more than Keldorn gathered it to be.

"I… I see. And Gragus paid the price for her ambitions." Cernd muttered quietly before finally regaining a measure of confidence, staring down the druid in front of him. "Such a ritual is unheard of and quite costly to the grove. I shall discuss this matter with her in a language she will understand. As for you… get out of my sight."

Elseth turned away from Cernd and stalked back towards the forest before them, only pausing briefly to toss back, "Many will not be willing to talk, Cernd. I do not enjoy this new role we take, but many have been corrupted… many enjoy it indeed. Walk carefully."

He disappeared within moments, leaving Keldorn and Cernd alone once more. They remained still until Cernd began walking again, though a troubled look was unmoving upon his face. Entering the outer edge of the trees, they passed within the boundaries of the druid grove; the very foliage swallowing them up as they moved. Even as Cernd walked ahead, leading them both through the paths and trails of the grove, Keldorn spoke quietly. "I take it you knew the former leader of this grove?"

"I did." Cernd said, just loud enough for Keldorn to hear, though whether it was for safety's sake or from sorrow, Keldorn could not discern. "Gragus was a good friend of mine… I left this grove after serving with him many years. He had just attained the rank of Great Druid."

"That man spoke of bonding with the grove. What did he mean?" Keldorn inquired.

Cernd's eyes narrowed as he continued to brush the foliage in the path away, opening it for Keldorn to travel through. "It is a dark ritual, paladin. You will learn of it should we reach our final destination. You will see."


	94. Part 3: Nature's Fury

The size of the mound was one thing, impressive and oppressive in itself. The moss covered structure stood at least sixty feet above the loamy soil, towering over most of the thick underbrush that had characterized and dominated every inch of the druid grove since they had entered. The outside of the mound was a solid mixture of dirt and bark and grass, hardened over time into a carapace of sorts, as strong as any Ankheg's shell. It might've been a curiosity, an attraction for any visitor who was unfamiliar to these parts. However, the shape into which the mound was formed made such prospects unlikely. The entrance was shaped into the model of a troll's maw; it was complete with bone and rock forming teeth, overhanging as though ready to crash down on any interlopers who dared to venture into the foreboding entrance. The mound was at the center of a small clearing, just large enough to accommodate the construction. The smell of rotting flesh emanated from the insides, along with flies and other insects buzzing in and out. It was a sight that would cause most to either run in fear or disgust; luckily, Keldorn and Cernd were not most people.

Keldorn grunted as he ran the worn cloth he carried across the Hallowed Redeemer, wiping away the remnants of troll blood and gore that marred the sheen of the holy blade. Upon reaching the troll mound, several of the beasts had apparently taken offense at their approach; that or they merely felt like a bit of fresh meat. Nevertheless, Keldorn and Cernd had been attacked by fifteen of the large monsters, swarming out of the troll mound in one large wave. Cernd had shown more restraint in his approach than Keldorn had expected; rather than ripping into their ranks as a werewolf, he had backed Keldorn's strikes, summoning the powers of the earth to entangle and ensnare his foes and making them easy prey for Keldorn to cut down. He also provided the killing strikes for every beast, lighting their half-dead bodies with flame to prevent their return.

The druid's fighting style was swift, efficient, and altogether deadly. Keldorn wished he could let himself trust the man more... they didn't have time for his suspicions and cautious misgivings. Still, Yoshimo's betrayal had not left his mind, and the thief had given off just as much of an aura as Cernd did. That was to say, none. He glanced over at the entrance to the troll mound again; a flash of movement had caught his eye. He shifted his weight over to better watch for attackers, but Cernd saw it and spoke up, his voice back to the deep calm that it so naturally settled into.

"You need not worry about the trolls anymore." Cernd smiled even as he returned to his own work, adding different herbs and powders to the surface of a large fern, using it to hold them all before spitting in the mixture, igniting a reaction of sorts. It fizzed and finally settled into a coagulated paste that Cernd lathered over an open wound that crossed his stomach. A twitch to his face was the only sign that applying the mixture had not been a painless experience; he covered it quickly and continued, "They shall not bother us again while we yet remain."

"Not that I don't believe you," Keldorn said, glancing at Cernd's wound to note that the swelling was already decreasing before returning his gaze to the troll mound, "But I shall keep watch until you have finished dressing your wounds. We should not linger any longer than necessary. I have seen them watching us still."

"Of course they are. The trolls understand the balance rather well for such primitive creatures." Cernd said nonchalantly, finishing his work as he bent over and stretched his body once, smiling as he felt the strength in his muscles return to him. He found his proper footing and strode to Keldorn's side, looking to the troll mound as well while he spoke. "They overstepped their bounds and were rebuked for it; they will respect our presence and leave us be unless we threaten them. As you say, they watch us right now from their hiding places and openings, waiting for us to leave so that they will be free to roam once more."

Keldorn glanced at the druid's serene features; as much as he had tried to understand the druid and Harper points of view, it would never quite sink in for him. Not that he should have expected otherwise, the paladin thought wryly. Cernd watched for a moment longer, than made a suggestion. "We could rest here tonight, under the stars. We will not be bothered by the beasts; I can guarantee it."

"Aside from the fact that I'd still be up all night keeping watch," Keldorn said sharply, "We do not have the time to linger. I have said it before; we must reach the center of the grove tonight."

"Ah... true enough, you mentioned the necessity for haste earlier today." Cernd said thoughtfully, a hint of a smile tugging at the edges of his mouth. "At the earliest we could arrive near midnight. Still, to rush through Nature's beauty without stopping to take note seems a bit unnecessary without reason."

The paladin snorted, sheathing the Hallowed Redeemer as he gestured for Cernd to take the lead, leaving the troll mound behind as they continued their journey throughout the myriad twists and turns of the grove. "If you truly wish to know my reasons for this venture, you might simply ask, rather than resorting to such veiled jabs and gestures."

Still the druid remained quiet; at the very least, he was respecting Keldorn's privacy by not pushing the issue. Of course, he would have to tell Cernd and every other druid the purpose of his mission in due time, if he wished their aid. The paladin tucked away any further reservations he still held and spoke to the man beside him. "If you wish to know, I am here as an envoy from Suldenesselar."

"The high city of the elves?" Cernd's head tilted enough from him to see Keldorn out of the corner of his eye, getting a nod of confirmation from the man. "I have not heard news of that great city for many years now. What is the nature of this visit?"

"Drow elves have emerged from the Underdark at an ancient temple on the surface. They have been stopped there and held back for a time, but some have reached Suldenesselar and siege it even now." Keldorn continued, keeping his tones low as Cernd pushed through a set of ruins, possibly one of the foolhardy attempts of a prospector to use this land for a city, or timber mine of some kind. A doomed effort, to say the least. "The main force of elves that holds them back at the source is in need of reinforcements; despite two attempts, they have received no word from the druids here. I have been sent to find out why, and to bring back aid by noon tomorrow."

"Interesting." Cernd said quietly, taking a moment to look into the moon and star lit sky. Crickets chirped in the distance, and for a moment Keldorn feared that Cernd sensed an impending attack- he moved on just as quickly as he stopped, Keldorn struggling to keep up with all of his armor in the enclosed woods. "The druids have long known and recognized the threat that the drow present to the surface world. There is no reason they would not have answered. Were the situation normal, of course."

The slight growl that entered Cernd's voice reminded Keldorn of the vitriol that he had displayed when confronted with the knowledge of the druid grove's new leadership. To draw the normally unflappable man's ire was a feat indeed; Keldorn kept his voice low as he called to the man before him. "And you believe that the new leadership of the grove has refused Suldenesselar aid? But why?"

"Shadow Druids believe any kind of city, any kind of organized dwelling to be corrupt and worthy of destruction. Suldenesselar would be no different than Athkatla in their eyes." Cernd said quietly, his voice just loud enough for the paladin to hear.

"Rather close-minded of them." Keldorn murmured in reply, but Cernd still caught the tone to his voice, and chuckled again.

"Yes, I know. Shadow Druids are the ideals of the druid taken to the ultimate extreme. Everything in this world requires intervention to maintain that walk of balance… even druids themselves."

The night was cool and the walk was still lengthy, but Cernd's guidance was true and every path they traveled was just open enough for them both to make it through, continually progressing towards their final destination. Night passed swiftly and it was almost midnight, as Cernd had predicted, when they reached a clearing of stone tablets, encircling a long path of rock that led into the very side of a mountain, hollowed and dug into what Keldorn could only presume was the main hall of the grove. He had expected guards to show themselves as they approached, and within seconds he was rewarded. From seemingly nowhere at least two dozen druids had emerged, all armed with naught more than staffs and clubs.

Under different circumstances the display could have been laughable; however, Keldorn had seen the true power that the druids possessed, concealed by their simple looks and humble weaponry. He was no fool; if a battle were to ensue, he and Cernd would undoubtedly be on the losing end. His druid guide did not dispute this fact; he raised both hands in submission as the threat emerged, though if anything his eyes gained focus, clarity as they settled upon the faces of those he called kin. "My fellow druids... we have come to negotiate with your new leader, this... this Faldorn. There is no need for violence here."

"Negotiation is for the weak." one druid spat, a long scar running down his face, barely visible in the star-light. "Faldorn would rather see you dead before speaking with the likes of you."

"Control yourself, Erthel." another man said, his face grim but not nearly as hostile as Erthel's. His features were not entirely distinguishable in the darkness, but his voice suggested he was an older man. His frame was smaller than the others, but he carried himself with a confidence that was as commanding as any Keldorn had seen for a time. "The new order of the grove does not take kindly to outsiders. You are druid, true enough, but you do not follow the same way we do. This one here is from the city; Faldorn has ordered the death of all city-dwellers on sight."

"He is with me… we come on behalf of both druid and city to seek out the source of this unbalanced action." Cernd shot back, taking a step forward to stand toe to toe with the older druid. They stared one another down for a moment, before Erthel's disdain filled tones disrupted them.

"He consorts with those of the vile cities? He's no druid, Verthan!" the young man sneered, pointing his spiked club at Cernd. He was about to say more, but Cernd raised a hand in protest, his voice rising in tone as he made a declaration to all present.

"If this is how the new leadership handles matters, then we shall negotiate in the only manner they understand! I issue a challenge to Faldorn, in the rituals of the druidic combat! Let all present witness my challenge!"

A small murmuring went up among the druids present, but Keldorn remained on guard, taking the new distraction as opportunity to slide his right hand over and on the hilt of the Hallowed Redeemer, a half second from unsheathing it and clearing out the space three feet in front of him. Fortunately, he was given no reason to do so; Cernd lowered his hand and folded his arms, looking past Verthan and into the druidic court as he spoke. "You know the laws, Verthan. Take us to Faldorn."

"I know them well enough, Cernd. You are well in your right to do this. Both you and your companion will be brought before her." Verthan nodded, motioning for the others to lower their weapons. "He has issued a challenge to the leader; we must present him before her. Such is our law, and it shall not be broken. Let them pass."

"The outsider is not part of the challenge ritual." Erthel said disdainfully, eyeing Keldorn. "Let nature's fury take him now-"

"You will do no such thing!" Verthan shouted, abruptly turning to the younger man and knocking him down with a maneuver of the staff in his hand; it had been a blur, so quick that Keldorn had not seen what precisely he had done. "You may have been taken by these Shadow Druid ways, but there are some among us that remember our true role. Silvanus help you find it before nature expends its fury upon you for these foul deeds that you espouse."

Erthel's eyes flashed with anger, but he remained quiet as Keldorn passed him with a tight smile, following Verthan and Cernd inside the mountain. Whether Cernd's idea had been their only option or not, there were truly no choices left now. The other druids were following close behind, watching and blocking any attempts at escape. There was an eerie bluish green glow that illuminated their path, its source seemingly the very rock that formed the walls around them. It was enough to see that Cernd had fallen in step with Verthan, a much older man that Keldorn had originally guessed before seeing him in light. His face was worn and haggard, though determination crossed his features. It was a familiar look, one that Keldorn saw upon himself in the mirror every time he suited up for a new battle or a fresh challenge, knowing in his heart that he was growing far too old for the job. Keldorn suppressed a smile; he had a feeling that this Verthan might be a potential ally, especially when it came to recruiting allies for Suldenesselar's aid.

"It is good to see you again, Verthan." Cernd murmured, his voice barely above a whisper.

"And you, Cernd. I had wondered if we would ever receive somebody with the temerity to face Faldorn on the terms of the ritual challenges."

"I am glad to know that not all of the druids in the grove have abandoned the principles of balance. Are there many more under your persuasion, or does that rash fool Erthel have a majority of the opinion here?"

"Erthel is not alone in his beliefs, that enough is true. However, with the exception of him and a few others, most would be more than willing to return to the traditional role of the druid in this place. Nobody has been able to face Faldorn and beat her yet, though." Verthan sighed, looking at the path rather than Cernd as he clung to his staff tighter.

Cernd read the look of pain in Verthan's face and began to speak, but he wove Cernd away, sighing as he spoke again. "Don't apologize, Cernd. Your implication would have been there regardless of whether you meant it or not. I would have challenged her, ten, maybe even five years ago. But like all things of nature, my time is coming to an end. My best years were spent long ago. I saw that a true view of nature's roles needed to be supported and maintained despite Faldorn's corruption. This is where I could do the most good, where I could fight with my age and years as tools of authority, rather than impediments in combat."

"There is no shame in knowing your limitations, Verthan. You have done what you could… leave the rest to me." Cernd said quietly, ceasing to speak as they reached the end of the hall, opening into one large chamber. It was lit by the same glow, though the source was apparent here. Fungus and vegetation grew on the walls, providing the illumination for the room. A small mountain creek ran straight through the center of the room, going right back underground as quickly as it emerged. A large pit was present in the center of the room, with but one ladder providing entrance. Dried blood stains and bones were present in the chasm, signs of battles fought and lost. A throng of sharpened poles and wooden spears were stuck in the ground to encircle and provide a mantel for the throne at the back of the center. It was of simple construction, not elaborate like one made for a ruler of cities, but still grand enough to command respect for the visitor and present authority for the one familiar with sight.

A harsh looking woman stood before it, flanked by two other figures, one male, the other female. The woman in the middle had long, thick hair, though it was coarse and rough looking, as was her skin. She wore a headdress that was composed of furs and pelts, a jumble of creatures that did not mix well to the eyes. She was wearing studded leather and carried a quarterstaff like most others, though it was adorned with a human skull on the end, a hole driven through the skull cap. The rest of her garb was obviously geared towards easy movement and light battle, but there was no mistaking the air of deadliness and anger that seemed to emanate from this woman.

Keldorn gritted his teeth and reached out with his paladin senses; while everybody else in the room was a complete blank to him, there was a faint hint of evil that clung to Faldorn, breaking through her neutrality just enough for him to pick up on. She sneered at their approach, taking their measure quickly before spitting in their general direction. "What have we here? Some other fools come to stop the righteous force of nature? Laughable. Say what you must and then we shall purge the earth of your filth."

"Cernd would know what has changed here, and why you rule as you do." Keldorn said loudly, letting all thirty years of his service creep into his stature and voice, affecting all the nobility and authority that a senior Paladin of the Radiant Heart could muster. Its affect was noticeable on the druids around, even Faldorn seemed to lose a bit of the bluster she had a second ago. Even so, she answered him with fresh disdain dripping from her voice.

"Cernd is of no concern. I am a Druid of Shadow, and the hierarchy is in shambles. The very fact that I was able to wrest control of this grove away from the weakling who controlled it speaks to my right of leadership!" Faldorn's eyes narrowed as she focused on Keldorn's armored form. "What do you think you shall do, city-dweller? Will you draw your blade, cut me down? Your swords and arrows are useless here, in the place of power that I have made for myself!"

"The ritual." Cernd whispered, as though seeing for the first time what Faldorn had done. "She has bonded with the grove... no simple strikes shall affect her now. Not while she remains here."

"You are correct, fool." Faldorn sneered, lifting her quarterstaff high. "Nobody can touch me here. Not the weak-minded druids who wasted their powers here before, and not some old mongrel from the city."

Verthan's voice broke through, cutting past Faldorn's harsh tones. "You will learn respect, Faldorn. For your elders, for the true path, and for nature herself. You may be immune, but not inside the arena of ascension. The rules of the rituals still govern here, Faldorn. Cernd will challenge you for leadership."

"Have you grown a spine, Verthan?" Faldorn said with a laugh, looking at the older druid as he glared at her defiantly. "I had thought you too cowed to be a nuisance to me, but it appears I was wrong. Your death will come after these are dealt with, old man."

"You will not corrupt the old ways any longer!" Cernd interrupted, stepping out of the guard of those around him, his eyes blazing with a new intensity. "You perpetuate gross crimes here, against both nature and those who trust our order for both examples and protection! You are unfit! I challenge you, and by the rites laid down ages ago you cannot refuse!"

"What makes you think I would want to refuse?" Faldorn scoffed, moving out of her own guard to stand barely a foot away from the taller man. "I took this grove by force and I shall keep it in the same manner! Did you think I would retreat? Oh no, Cernd, meddler... this is your end. Prepare to die!"

The challenge Cernd had laid was well-known; the druids knew their place, and all but six of the group backed away from the arena pit. Those who did not moved to runes that were inscribed upon stones that encircled the arena. They stood, silent watchers as Cernd and Faldorn lowered themselves into the fighting pit, removing their equipment along with anything aside from their armor and clothing. Cernd's face was a blank slate, hard as the stones that lined the outer edge of the ring. Verthan walked to the edge, looking down upon the two to make certain they were ready; he held up two plain quarterstaffs, devoid of any enchantments or powers that would most certainly have been present in personal weapons.

He tossed one to each, then spoke loudly, his voice echoing through the suddenly darkened chamber. "Let it be witnessed; the challenge for leadership is about to begin. None shall leave the arena until the challenge is complete. Nobody shall enter until the challenge is complete. By the powers we call, nature herself shall strike down anybody who attempts to interfere or disrupt these rules."

"I know the ritual, old man!" Faldorn snapped, looking up at his craggy features. "Let the magics commence, so that Cernd may have no place to hide from my wrath."

Cernd made no visible reaction; he only examined his staff for a moment, then looked at Verthan and nodded quietly. The elder druid bowed and took a step back, as the six who circled the pit began chanting quietly, their voices intertwining as the magics they commanded began weaving themselves amidst the magic of the grove. Keldorn squinted as light began shining from the runes around the pit- it flared for a moment, and when he regained his sight, there was a bright yellow haze that surrounded the border of the arena pit. Whether it would prevent access or not was a question Keldorn was not keen to test; he had heard the warnings that Verthan had given quite well.

That same man backed to Keldorn's side, giving the paladin a nod of brotherhood, united in their support of Cernd. "He must defeat her. If not... there is no other who can. Should she claim victory, her power will go unchallenged by the Council themselves."

"No." Keldorn murmured quietly, gripping the hilt of the Hallowed Redeemer unconsciously. "I shall not allow her to besiege Trademeet in this fashion, not while I remain here. Whether by Cernd's hand or mine, I swear you shall be rid of her."

He had no time to say more; as soon as the light that shone was faint enough for the opponents to see each other again, Faldorn vaulted towards Cernd, her quarterstaff already in mid-swing. Her rush forward might have seemed hasty, foolish by a casual observer, but Keldorn saw its purpose in a moment. Her strikes were careful, precise, measured. Never intended to hit the other druid, merely to test his defenses. To see how he moved, what side he favored, which foot he led with... she was a warrior, through and through. Cernd would have to show skill far and beyond anything Keldorn had seen from him if he wanted to stand a chance against the Shadow Druid.

He shunted aside a strike that would have hit him in the nose, only for her to spin and bring the staff down directly at the top of his head, a skull-splitting blow if it was allowed to connect. He let his grip slide so that as he raised his staff, the opposing weapon landed between his hands in the middle of his weapon, then pushed back in an attempt to throw her off balance. She fell back in what looked like a stumble; in reality it was a simple drop in her form to put her in a position to make a roundhouse sweep for his legs.

He saw the attack just in time; Cernd gritted his teeth as he leapt upwards to avoid it, but she slammed her staff upward while low to the ground, the thrust catching him straight in his bare solar plexus. He tumbled away, gasping for air with widened eyes, taken completely by surprise. He glanced up from the crouch he'd come up in, seeing that Faldorn had moved up already, looking to take advantage of his weakness. Another overhead blow designed to kill him; he fell completely to the ground and rolled away, still trying to give himself space to regain his wind, space she was not keen on letting him have.

Despite his best efforts, she would give him no time to regain the strength he'd lost from her first strike. She sidestepped a counterattack that he made when moving in, giving her the opportunity to step in and bring an elbow to his face. He stumbled away, grimacing as he tried to keep her at bay with one hand on his staff, the other holding his jaw. She didn't press the attack for once; she simply shook her head with a feral grin on her face. "Pathetic. Is this the best that the old way can muster? It is a wonder that the Shadow Druids have not supplanted you and your kind sooner. Even that old fool Gragus lasted longer against me."

Gragus' name brought a fire to Cernd's eyes; for a moment, Keldorn thought he would see the druid lose all composure and transform into the wolfwere he had become at Trademeet. Apparently Verthan knew what Keldorn was thinking; he turned to the paladin and spoke, "Faldorn knows of Cernd's shapeshifting ability. This battle does not allow such magics. Calling upon the forces of nature is allowed, but the disease that Cernd locks within himself... if he allows himself to be goaded by her, he will lose the duel automatically."

"Come Cernd... show me why you think that I will fall to your so-called might." Faldorn sneered, waving him onward with one hand. "Unleash that beast that lurks inside you. Show your paladin city-dweller just what kind of monster you really are."

"I am no monster, Faldorn." Cernd said through heavy breaths, even as he struggled to calm the beast within. "The only monster I see is you. A corrupted servant of nature who has twisted our mother to her own gain. You think what you do is just? Unless you yield, I will show it to you in death."

"Yield?!" she laughed, dropping to attack position. "I shall enjoy ripping the spine from your body, Cernd!"

She came again, her staff a blur as she fought with a ferocity borne of anger and skill. And yet, somehow, Cernd remained calm in the eye of the storm. His blocks were precise and fast, minimizing the battering that his body took when she did connect, and keeping most from touching him entirely. He fought patiently, watching and waiting for a moment to strike. Just like at the troll mound... Keldorn smiled tightly, seeing Cernd's strategy. Faldorn had made her mistake in letting him regain his breath and his composure; he was in a rhythm that would be hard to break through unless she possessed infinite energy or a patience that matched his; two things Keldorn found unlikely.

Their deadly dance continued, a whirl of wood and limbs, every now and then the sound of a glancing blow echoing upwards, but nothing as serious as the first hit endured by Cernd. Cernd moved up cautiously, making small thrusts, hoping to catch her off guard for an attack, but she shunted his staff aside and charged into a tight range, where neither of their staffs could be of much use. A hiss along with a swing of sharpened nails raked across Cernd's face, the druid stumbling backwards yet again as the fire of her claws covered his face. The few seconds of time were enough for Faldorn to unleash a hail of furious blows on Cernd, the druid doing his best to block them and yet failing under the sheer number of attacks.

Keldorn winced at the sound of the quarterstaff cracking against Cernd's side, impacting his ribs harshly. He found himself holding his breath as the druid took blow after blow, Faldorn swinging her weapon with reckless abandon, Cernd seemingly unable to find the speed to match her. Sweat glowed from Faldorn's face as she continued striking, pushing him back as he glared heavily at his attacker. His chest and face were covered with bruises, and blood ran from some of the harsher wounds. To his eyes, Faldorn had yet to take any sort of serious hit during this bout; unless Cernd regained a third wind, it seemed like he would be doomed to fail. As Cernd kept retreating, he seemed to stumble on a stray rock in the arena, beginning to fall backwards.

Keldorn's breath caught as he saw Faldorn rush forward, perhaps sensing victory was near. He felt relief surge through him as he caught a glimpse of a smile crossing Cernd's cracked lips; it was a perfectly executed trap, one that would probably have failed were Faldorn fighting at full energy or with a clear, focused mind. She was far too confident, caught in her own triumph to see his intention. Cernd's uncontrolled fall quickly turned into a throw, dropping his quarterstaff as he took hold of the end of hers, pulling himself forward and the two of them together as she fell towards him in surprise. She had no time to block or dodge in the moment before the top of his head slammed into her face, the distinct sound of bones breaking echoing through the room. She pushed him away in anger as she stumbled back, one hand covering her flattened nose, blood gushing from it as it ran down her face and lips onto the dirt floor. With a snarl she attacked again, but Cernd had already recovered his weapon and parried the strike, coming down with an overhead swing. She saw it and moved aside, but Cernd's motion did not merely come downward, it suddenly pushed right as well, throwing her in that direction as well. She was close enough to the rock wall that she slammed into it before she could stop herself, being smashed into the rough rock walls. She gave a cry of pain then pushed away, obviously in pain from the last attack.

Cernd did not wait for her to regain the edge, but continued attacking, coming with unexpected ways and avenues of attack, Faldorn constantly being taken just a bit more off guard with each small victory he took. After a few moments, there was a brief lull in the fighting, both combatants staring each other down from opposite sides of the pit, blood and bruises covering them. Faldorn gritted her teeth, spitting blood at the infuriatingly calm man before her. She hurled an obscenity at him, then charged, her staff swinging this way and that as she moved to attack- Cernd smiled as he saw where her attack would come from. An overhead swing again- he sidestepped and launched forward, taking her off her feet as he landed on top of her, his right forearm pinning her neck as his other hand and his legs kept the rest of her pinned. She struggled to move, trying to force him off, but his weight was too much. He leaned in close, his eyes glittering darkly in the ritual's light. "Yield, or die."

She spat in his face, blood drizzling from her nose and mouth. Cernd nodded grimly, then moved to finish his opponent- a pillar of earth exploded from beside them, slamming into Cernd and sending him flying. Keldorn took a step forward in alarm, as did Verthan, the older druid equally concerned. "I... I feel it! She is tapping into the power of the grove itself. Bonding with it again! Faldorn! You cannot use such powers in the rituals! It is against the laws-"

"Fool!" she screamed, standing to her feet as Cernd charged again, hoping to stop her before she could use such magic again- vines whipped from the ground and tangled his feet, sending him to the ground. "Your petty laws and rituals mean nothing to me!"

Verthan looked on in horror and fury, finally turning to the druids who encircled the pit. "She has broken the rules of the challenge! Let nature pass judgment!"

The druids nodded, their eyes glowing yellow; Faldorn extended one arm, and spikes of wood followed suit, shooting from her hands as they impaled three of the ritual observers. She looked at Verthan with a predatory smile. "Nature has passed judgment, old man. I AM Nature. You are nothing."

The very ground rumbled beneath her, as moss and vines and dirt rose from the ground and began covering Faldorn, the woman slowly disappearing from sight as the shambling mound grew in height and mass, towering over everything as it stepped from the pit where an unconscious Cernd still lay. The druids who had been maintaining the rituals all backed away, chanting and summoning their magics in an attempt to stop her. Fire burned and struck the body of the beast, but Faldorn simply shrugged it off and leaned down to take one of the druids in each hand, crushing tightly until the sound of their bones breaking stopped. She dropped their limp, misshapen bodies, then stomped towards Keldorn and Verthan.

Keldorn drew the Hallowed Redeemer and moved in front of Verthan, leveling his blade at Faldorn without hesitation. Verthan shook his head as he unhooded himself, raising his quarterstaff, lightning crackling at the end of it. "There is no hope, Keldorn. She has bonded with the grove, and outside of the rituals, there could be no victory. She has done the unthinkable and broken the laws of Nature... until her bond has been shattered, Nature cannot take vengeance for such defilement."

"DEFILEMENT?!" Faldorn rumbled, the eyes of the beast glowing yellow as she raised her arms, sending rock falling from ceiling to crush them. Keldorn flipped his blade so that he could hold the flat middle of the sword against his palm, using it to block the shards of stone that would have struck him. Verthan used his staff to deflect the missiles that headed towards him; despite his age, he could still manipulate the staff with great skill. "TO USE THE FULL MIGHT OF NATURE, TO LET IT FEED ME SO THAT I MAY DO HER WILL? YOU DEFILE HER BY YOUR WEAKNESS!"

Verthan swung to strike away another stone missile, but this one got through- Keldorn dropped to Verthan's side as the old man lay on his knees, blood dripping from the new gash on his head. "Keldorn... get out of this place. We can do nothing but try and hold her back. Warn Trademeet of this treachery... tell them who their true enemy is."

"I shall not abandon you." Keldorn said grimly, standing tall as he stood and walked to face Faldorn. "Nor shall I let you kill another with your stolen powers, Faldorn!"

He swung his blade, cutting through moss and dirt and rock, slicing a neat chunk of the creature as his blade swung left, then right, then down. Mud and rock slipped out of the crack, sliding to the ground. Faldorn was silent for a moment, then swung with her massive fist, a blow that would have killed him had it connected. Keldorn had dodged aside, then moved nimbly back into range. The Gauntlets of Dexterity were the only things giving him this edge; he had to find some sort of weakness in her before she managed to strike him down. He made a mighty backhand swing, cutting straight through her left leg; that side collapsed to the ground as Keldorn stepped back, exhaling in triumph.

Faldorn glanced at the wound... if the shambling mound she had become were capable of showing emotion, there would have been a smile on its face as the ground itself slid into her form, rebuilding itself without any sign of slowing. "NO MORE GAMES."

Vines and tendrils of the earth slid from beneath Keldorn's feet and wrapped themselves around him, rooting him to the spot. His eyes widened and he struck at his bonds, but they regrew as soon as he cut them away. One of the roots slid up to his arm and yanked the Hallowed Redeemer from his hand, sliding it blade first into the ground until it was covered to the hilt. Faldorn rumbled forward, backhanding him viciously with a gigantic, rock covered fist. Keldorn would have fallen to the ground, completely dazed and out of it with that single punch, but the vinesthat ensnared him also kept him upright. He could barely see Faldorn raise her arm to strike him down for good. He couldn't move. It was over. The disarmed paladin prepared for death, knowing he had done all that was possible...

A blur swept behind Faldorn, launching itself onto the shambling mound's back with a snarl and a growl of feral origins. Faldorn rumbled with surprise and irritation as the wolfwere that had been Cernd ripped and tore at her head, biting and clawing the dirt and leaf away as it tried to find the woman inside. It stumbled back and forth for a moment, seemingly taken by surprise... it exploded, sending the wolfwere flying across the room, landing on its feet nimbly. It growled, saliva dripping from its jaws as the red eyes it bore slipped here and there, searching for its prey... the mound exploded up from beneath Cernd and slammed him into the ceiling. It howled in pain as it began to fall again, but the earth that had hit him reformed into a hand, gripping the wolfwere tightly. It punched upwards again, shaking rock from the ceiling as Cernd impacted again. And again. And again.

The wolfwere whimpered lightly, body limp from the beating as the shambling mound reformed once again, bringing the weakened creature to eye level. "YOU ARE BEATEN. YIELD, AND DIE."

Cernd's feral form began shaking, contorting within the grip of Faldorn, finally withering and shrinking until Cernd was the one that lay beaten and limp in her hand. One of his swollen eyes managed to push itself open, looking down at Faldorn with disgust. "You... you are a falsehood. A p-parasite... one that nature will... will not long abide. Once the magics t-that bind you to the earth are banished-"

Magics. The magics had to be banished, the bond with the grove... that was the key. Keldorn felt a final hope spring to his mind. There might be one last chance at beating this crazed woman.

"I HAVE LISTENED TO ENOUGH OF YOUR EMPTY THREATS." Faldorn boomed, throwing Cernd to the ground in a heap as a long spear of wood formed itself in her hand. "I SHALL CUT OFF YOUR HEAD AND MOUNT IT ON THIS PIKE. A WARNING TO ALL THAT WOULD OPPOSE THE TRUE FORCE OF NATURE."

"Faldorn!!"

The shambling mound rumbled at the interruption; she turned to see Keldorn standing before her, a bright, shimmering sword in his hands. The rune-covered blade glowed bright white, and the vines that had been wrapping Keldorn's legs were withered and cut. Keldorn did not hesitate. He did not issue a challenge, he did not let her taunt him or boast of her power over nature. He simply reared back, and thrust Carsomyr into Faldorn with all his might. Faldorn looked down at the blade, even as Keldorn yanked it out, taking a step backward as he put the two-handed sword to guard position.

For a moment, nothing happened. And then... Faldorn raised both hands to look at them, even as the dirt and the rock and the leaves began withering and falling from her like chaff in the wind. Her unearthly screams could be heard as the bond she had formed with the grove was severed by Carsomyr's magic. Eventually, glimpses of Faldorn could be seen again, her human form growing more distinct underneath the rotting vegetation. With a final wind, the rest of her cover was gone. She was on her knees, gasping for air; she looked up at Keldorn, her eyes bristling with unbridled hatred. "What have you done?!"

"He has made you vulnerable. And now nature will take its vengeance." she whirled to hear Cernd's hoarse tones as he struggled to his feet. She opened her mouth to speak, to taunt or protest or argue... the words rapidly became a scream, even as Keldorn, Cernd, and the rest of the surviving druids witnessed nature's punishment. Her feet had become wood, roots that grew into the ground itself. Her legs followed suit, her flesh turning to wood as it traveled upward, covering her whole body, finally cutting her off mid-plea. Her look of torment was discernible on the wooden statue; Keldorn closed his eyes, sheathing Carsomyr upon his back as he walked to where the Hallowed Redeemer was still lodged in the ground. Freeing it with a jerk, he nodded with gratitude to Cernd as Verthan helped the battered druid rise.

"Keldorn... you have saved us, and this grove. You yourself have seen nature's condemnation of Faldorn's ways." Verthan said with gratitude as he helped Cernd to the paladin's side. "You have our gratitude."

"The scourge has been purged from this place." a slowly steadying Cernd added. "The deed is done... even now, I feel that the land sighs in relief. We will rebuild, as the great cycle dictates... but there will be time for that later. You came to our aid in time of need. State your request, Keldorn. It is almost the morn, and we shall not let your generosity go unpaid."

X X X X X X

Elhan's cape billowed behind him as he stalked from tent to tent, receiving status reports and ensuring that everything would be ready to move at his command. Dawn had come and gone, and Keldorn had yet to arrive with the druids of Trademeet. The sun was not quite at the highest point yet, and there was another hour or two for him to return and fulfill the bargain they had made, but Elhan held little hope, in truth. It wasn't that he wanted to leave without him or the others… he welcomed their aid. Irenicus was a dangerous foe, and the long years since they had last faced each other would have only increased the mage's power. But he had no real choice. Every second that passed cost another elven life, and it was not something Elhan could tolerate.

"Everything is prepared as you commanded, sir. The men move at your order."

Elhan nodded to the lieutenant under his command, surveying the warriors, hurrying to pack the essential belongings they would need for the journey back to Suldenesselar. It was only a few hours ride, but their supplies were low and there was no telling how long they would have to siege their own city to rid it of Irenicus and his minions. Possibly forever, if they did not have more men. It sounded slightly ridiculous, the idea that six adventurers could be so important… but they were different.

They were experienced, organized… powerful. Their elven mages with him were good… but they had spoken to him later about the power they had felt emanating from their leader, Greywulf. The last wizard they had felt with such a strong aura of magic had been the Exile himself. The other two wizards, the elf and the human girl were good too, but nowhere close to the raw power Greywulf had possessed. It wasn't just magical ability... it was something else. A power that was dark... concealed and kept hidden within.

The warriors they traveled with looked well used to combat, and no matter how much training and practice you did, it was survivability that made fighters good. Every encounter that a warrior survived just made him deadlier, and if the fighters traveling in this group had survived the Underdark, they had to be very good indeed. But it was out of his hands. The Rhynn Lanthorn was theirs once more, resting in the tents of the elven sages. As much as they owed the ones who had rescued it, they were not of Suldenesselar. They could not understand. It may have been for the best this way… less shame, less people to know the truth about the Exile and his now deceased sister.

He relaxed a bit more, looking at it from this perspective. Yes… it was better this way. Elhan permitted himself a grim smile, then glanced at the sky again, squinting as he checked the position of the sun. It was close to noon…

"Commander! Our scouts have reported spotting a small group that is traveling straight for our camp." one of his lieutenants walked to his side, pointing to the eastern hills.

"Did they get identification on the group or their intentions?" Elhan asked, taking his own measure of that section of the plains as he listened.

"Yes sir. One of our steeds carries the leader, a heavily armored man with the marks of the Radiant Heart. The group he leads bears strong resemblance to the druids of Trademeet. It would seem that the aid we sent for has finally arrived."

"Indeed." Elhan said quietly, the idea of the shame of the Exile being revealed to outsiders again hitting him once more. "Bring them to me as soon as they arrive."

It was not long before Keldorn was brought before Elhan again, a weary yet triumphant gleam to the paladin's eyes. The druid Cernd walked, hobbled really, at Keldorn's side, leading the escorting force. His gray fur cloak brushed the ground as he bowed to Elhan, a faint smile crossing his lips as he spoke, his raven colored hair blowing in the breeze.

"Greetings… I am Cernd. The druids of Trademeet are at your disposal, Commander. We apologize for the… delay. There were matters in the grove that had to be resolved before we could come to your aid. We are two dozen strong, and another score shall come before the next sunrise. The drow will not breach the surface world under our watch. Balance shall be maintained."

"Suldenesselar thanks you all. Relief efforts have been sorely needed for some time now." Elhan nodded solemnly, gripping Cernd by the shoulder as he gestured for two of his men to join the druids. "Tereleth will explain the situation and where your magics will be needed."

Cernd turned to Keldorn and smiled, offering his hand. Keldorn took the proffered gesture and they embraced once before Cernd left, accompanying the rest of his men to the briefing. Keldorn turned back to Elhan, a wry smile crossing the elven warrior's face. "Well played, Keldorn. I had my doubts as to whether you would succeed, but... I am glad to see you proved me wrong. Cutting it a little close, don't you think?"

"Not at all, Elhan." Keldorn said, stifling a yawn. "I have come through with my end of the bargain, though… I trust you will do the same for me?"

"Of course." Elhan cleared his throat. "You have bought your extra time with, I hope, a minimum of blood. The others have another two and a half days to return."

"Good. I think I shall take this opportunity then, to get some sleep. The spirit is willing, but this tired and battered body requires rest. It has been some time since I led a full company across open plain. I remember why I disliked it so much now."

Elhan quirked a faint smile and gestured to a far group of tents, their spires a bit shorter, yet wider to accommodate beds. "Those will serve you for resting. Take all the time you need… with the druids aiding us, I think our problems with drow incursions have ended."

The paladin nodded and trudged over to the tents, undoing the Red Dragon Scale armor and his pack, setting it aside he cot he chose to sit upon. He stretched his arms, feeling the strain and the aches in his muscles after the battle for the druid grove. He felt each and every bruise as his fingers gingerly touched his bare chest. It had been far too close; if not for the power of Carsomyr, none of them would have survived the encounter. Verthan had been more than willing to send a force to aid the elves of Suldenesselar; Faldorn had killed the other two envoys before he had even heard of their arrival. Cernd had agreed to lead them, and the whole matter had been settled in less than an hour. Granted, there were still some druids that would require keeping an eye on, even discipline if necessary, but the majority of cooler heads and traditional druids had prevailed, favoring the order and balance of the druidic hierarchy, rather than the extremism of the Shadow Druid philosophy.

They had only stopped briefly at Trademeet to inform Lord Coprith that the matter had been settled and that commerce in Trademeet could begin once more... though all had felt it best if only Keldorn had gone to let the High Merchant know. Seeing a force of druids marching into Trademeet might have been a bit premature. Keldorn cracked a smile as he lay down upon the cots there. They may have been made for quick set up and tear down, but they were more comfortable then some beds Keldorn had slept in. He was asleep within moments, content that whatever else… he had chosen the path of good. He had fulfilled his duty... and sometimes, that was all that mattered.

Even as Keldorn slipped into dreams and slumber, Elhan busied himself in informing the lieutenants and soldiers of their new timetable. Two more days was a long time to wait… but he had given his word. The druids had brought enough supplies and manpower to keep them there for at least two weeks. With them at the front lines it would give his own wounded time to rest, more able bodies ready for the siege of Suldenesselar. It would be nothing less than a siege, despite how much he wanted to think they had survived. He grimaced at the thought of what the Exile would have done to his city by the time he returned. Ellesime was powerful, but even she might not have enough strength to deny the return of Irenicus.

A shout of warning turned his head, and he drew his sword as he sprinted back towards the entrance to the Underdark. He arrived just in time to see three drow warriors struck by arrows, another nine blocking the arrow hail with shields, snarling curses in their tongue as they charged. The sound of druidic incantations filled the air as seven of the new arrivals encircling the area, began working their magics, summoning vines to tangle their foes and even elementals of earth to fight for them. As Elhan cut down another drow who had lunged for a druid, he glanced over at where Keldorn had been sleeping... the paladin was charging the battlefield, bare-chested and holding the Hallowed Redeemer at guard. Elhan shook his head; Keldorn had earned a rest from his labors… after the battle he would make sure he was given a tent further from the battlefield.

X X X X X X

The sound of shades passing close by the outer edges of the cavern taunted Greywulf as he stood at guard position, his quarterstaff put aside, of no use in this battle. The shadows that had found him were countless, and he knew that for every one he could see at the end of the wolf's den, there were a dozen more outside that were just waiting for their opportunity to claim him for their own. They were like a swarm of insects, crawling over each other to reach him.

Still... he had succeeded in one thing. Summoning Flare cantrips had made the creatures cautious, hesitant to throw themselves into such a narrow corridor where being caught in full-on light would be their undoing. Still, it was a delaying tactic at best. He couldn't keep it up forever. They were making half-lunges into the cave, trying to see how he would react. Greywulf clenched his fists, glancing back at Jaheira's body. He had summoned an Otiluke's Resilient Sphere, and it would keep her completely safe for fifteen minutes. If he needed it to last longer than that... he'd be dead already.

With a final second of hesitation, he saw the creatures begin to trickle in, edging down the cave, closer and closer as he stood and waited. He glanced at the cave walls; his trap had been in place for almost an hour now... the time he'd been given before they found him had not been wasted. He flexed his hands once more, then took a deep breath. He would only have a few seconds of uninterrupted spell casting time when the trap ignited; he would have to be quick, his incantations flawless. Finally, the floodgates were opened. No more holding back. The shadows poured towards him like an army of darkness, unstoppable in their intensity and numbers. He took a knee, thrust out his arm, and flashed his palm outward. Two quick incantations activated the magic and sent a shockwave down the hall, nudging the shadows for a moment, rocking them backwards. Not that it was his intention. The wave continued to echo off everything present and jostled the walls of the cavern, shaking loose the small globes of magic he had hidden there earlier, breaking the thin seal of magic he had drawn around them. With a loud sound of popping, dozens of Flare cantrips ignited all at once, even as Greywulf threw his cloak upward, shielding his eyes from the blinding lights that seared the shadows present. Every shadow that had been so eager a moment ago to strike him was vaporized and completely gone. The entire hallway was cleared in a single instant.

Greywulf stood to his feet, lowering his cloak to take in the situation, allowing himself to hope... hissing echoed once again through the halls, as a new flood of shadow monsters began pouring down the cavern towards him. He nodded in resignation, throwing his cloak from his shoulders. Activating a Stoneskin and a Red Fireshield together with a Spell Sequencer, he raised his hands and shouted the words of the arcane, summoning what powers he could. With a crackle of lightning in one hand and a fireball forming in the other, he leapt down the cavern, meeting his opponents head on, energy and power crackling in the air as he did so.


	95. Part 3: Turning of the Tide

_Author's Note: Sorry about the delays as of late; all I can say is that life happens. With that note... hope you like this one! I did, personally...(especially the ending)_

For as much as the Shade Lord was the perpetrator behind the eternal night that was nestled over the Umar Hills, it could be argued by many that the darkness itself was just as tangible a foe. An omnipresent cloud, a creature without a face, without a form to strike or challenge. With but one weakness, the darkness had no reason to fear. It could envelop those who dared enter its domain within moments, swallowing them whole.

Throughout the Temple of Amaunator, darkness reigned supreme. Faceless, nameless, and entirely unstoppable in its silent fury. Except... except that in this place, in this hour, darkness was given a face. A name. The sound of shifting scales and claws scraping gently over the stone floors filled the lair of the great beast. Where once it had been a gathering place, a meditation room for the priests and faithful who served the sun god, now it had become a habitation and a lair for evil. Its glimmering red eyes were the only illumination in the room- and yet, it saw all. It watched the narrow passage that led to this room from the Hall of Lights, and the one stairway that led to the Altar of Light where the Shade Lord rested, his body decaying and rotting from the inside out.

He would need a new host soon... any of the prisoners it had brought to the Temple would do, were they still in the cells. They had escaped in its absence, scouring the countryside for one of the mortals it had sensed. Not that it mattered, in the end. They would return. The Shade Lord had called it back to prepare for the assault, however foolish, that they would make on his lair. He had left his lesser minions, the shadow fiends and wraiths to continue their hunt of the sorcerer; many would fall to his might, but before the end, his body, and his considerable power, would become a part of the Shade Lord's army. All as the Master had predicted.

Wait... there. There it was. A slight tremor, the sound of a footstep as it echoed through the Temple. Coming closer, stalking through the halls, closer and closer to his watchful gaze. Multiple sets of steps... yes. All but the sorcerer. They were all approaching, albeit slowly. They paused, and for a moment it wondered if the Master was wrong; would they flee, forcing it to chase them through the forest? Not that it would mind the pursuit; the darkness was so great that even in the noon-tide sun, the forest allowed none but the faintest of light through the canopy above.

Ah... there. The mortals had continued their passage into the darkness. They were close. So very close now...

Mazzy held her torch higher, squinting into the passageway before her as she held one hand on her sword hilt. All but Aerie and Imoen carried torches, the girls providing light through their magics, a final means of protection should the torches go out. In complete darkness, they would stand no chance. To survive, they had all agreed... they would need light. Far more than they had... but there was little choice. Imoen was behind Mazzy as they found the narrow corridor sloping upwards, the stairs along the path covered in cobweb and dust that spun the air into freckled shades and hues of gray in the firelight.

"The beast will be close, now." Mazzy whispered, drawing her sword. "The ante-chamber we just passed was the final place of worship before the meditation hall. 'Tis the one place that the Shadow Beast can reside in... 'tis the place where my beloved and the rest of my friends met their ends."

Her voice grew hard at the end, and she said no more as they saw the door portal open wide at the top of the staircase. If Mazzy was right, their foe lay just beyond. Shrouded in darkness, they would have to be ready for anything- Solaufein grunted as he drew the Vorpal Sword from its sheath, struggling to hold it with one hand and his torch with the other. Not that he needed the light, considering his elven infravision. After a few moments, he threw his torch aside and gripped his blade tightly; Aerie glanced down at the crackling torch as they passed it by, almost to the top.

Minsc might've faced the same problem, trying to wield the Sword of Chaos against the creature. Frostreaver or Stonefire would've been suitable for him to maintain his torch and the weapon, but he had seen how inefficient they were against Firkraag. Enough force could break through, but he needed something that would surely strike true. However, Minsc was gifted with a weapon that had not been available during the fight with Firkraag. He switched the torch he held to his left hand, then drew the Equalizer with his right. It glimmered a frosty blue in the firelight, and Minsc only smiled grimly as Imoen nodded to him with a faint grin. She knew how much he enjoyed trying weapons out for the first time. If only the situation wasn't quite so dire for this particular trial run...

Mazzy stopped near at the top of the stair, raising her torch to the entrance, squinting as she attempted to see their foe in the enormous hall, their make-shift arena of battle with this beast of power. The knight-miniature turned back to the others, shaking her head. "I cannot spy the beast. Surely it knows we are coming for it..."

"Raising a light source into a pitch-black room was probably a give-away too." Imoen whispered up, unslinging her bow as she conjured a set of lights to dance and spin around her, a mystical halo that brightened the corridor considerably. "If it knows we're here, we might as well head on in... not like we're going to take it by surprise, right?"

Mazzy glared, but had nothing to say in rebuttal. The halfling warrior tentatively stepped into the room, torch raised high in one hand, her sword held tightly in the other. Imoen and Solaufein flanked Mazzy on either side, followed behind by Minsc and Solaufein, guarding their flank. They advanced, slowly and quietly into the room, the faint light of their torches and magics illuminating the area around them… but doing nothing to pierce the overwhelming darkness that enveloped the full capacity of the hall. Imoen glanced behind her, watching the drow. His face was a wall of contained and walled away emotions, focusing completely and entirely on the battle. His eyes tracked through the darkness, letting his infravision settle in and grant him sight. The heat of his companions began glowing, their features becoming orange and red, the rest of the room a cool blue; he tracked up and down and all around, searching for the heat of the beast they sought... "Solaufein? Where is it?"

Aerie's worried tones crept into him as well- she couldn't see it either. Part of their strategy had been the elves' ability to coordinate their attacks. Their torches would be useful, true enough, but it was their ability to see in the dark that would have kept them in the fight. A gust of wind swept over them; the sound of wing beats thudding directly over them brought a flurry of raised weapons and huddled uncertainty. Solaufein blinked, closing his eyes as he let his normal vision return to him. "Nothing. I... I cannot see it."

Mazzy blinked once, sweat running down her forehead as she realized just how vulnerable they were, here, now... a vision of her companions being slaughtered, picked off one by one in the darkness during her last visit to this place. Not this time. She moved to say something; a fearsome screech echoed through the room as they heard another set of wing beats, echoing... behind them? "Down!" Mazzy cried, and she and the rest immediately dropped to the ground, hoping to avoid the attack that was coming...

A wind swept over them, Imoen feeling a mass just barely brushing her as it passed overhead. Had those been the claws of the dragon, mere inches from cutting through her flesh? She remembered Firkraag, and how she had nearly perished there. Imoen growled, slinging her bow and climbing to one knee as the others got to their feet again; she called out her magics, blasting an Aganazzar's Scorcher through her hands as she swept it across the walls, lighting some parts of the wall while others were left smoldering. Another roar of fury- no doubt the beast was unwilling to let Imoen continue her work so easily. Aerie joined her magic to Imoen's, the two girls back to back as they lit the room with their power, the others guarding them as they watched the void with taut reflexes, just waiting for the darkness to strike.

Eventually they could continue no longer; the two stopped, breathing heavily as the room burned with their power of their magic. The walls were ablaze, streaks of fire that lit the darkness, giving them something- albeit meager- to work with. The creature had gone silent... somehow remaining hidden in the darkness that yet remained. "We have to find it." Mazzy whispered to nobody in particular. "All is lost if we cannot see our foe."

Minsc stood motionless as he peered out, trying to find something, anything to indicate the existence or location of their enemy. He summoned every one of the senses he had honed as a ranger, every instinct and eye for tracking that he could manage... the mighty warrior squinted as he let his vision track upwards, into one of the corners of the room. It was still darkened, but surely it could not conceal a creature as large as the one they sought? Minsc's eyes narrowed as he saw a slight glimmer in the darkness, the sliding of something- or was it slithering?- Minsc inhaled slowly, then dropped his torch. The others glanced his way, wondering what he was doing; he took the oilskin that he had used to soak his torch before lighting it, and poured the remainder over the blade of the Equalizer before throwing the skin to the side. Never once did his gaze falter from where it had settled. He knelt, picking up his torch; with a simple touch of flame, the Equalizer was set alight, burning brightly in the darkness. And with that... Minsc hurled his torch towards the corner of the ceiling with as loud a bellow as he had ever given in battle.

It spun through the air, scything its way toward the darkness, slowly brightening its path as it flew- without warning, it stopped. Snagged in midair, and for the first time, their foe was made known. In the darkness, tail curled up underneath and spined wings covering it in a ball of darkness and malice; it uncurled itself, one claw holding the respectively tiny torch as it released its grip on the ceiling. It fell to the floor, righting itself in midair to land on all four of its claws. Illuminated, they could see the Shadow Dragon clearly for the first time. It was almost ethereal; its lines were blurred, hazy as though not completely there. The only defining features were the scarlet eyes that were unblinking, reptilian malice boring down upon them unceasingly.

"It... is undead. Just like the other shadow creatures that the Shade Lord commands." Solaufein whispered, raising the Vorpal Sword higher as it stood before them, still and unmoving. "No wonder we could not see its heat-"

_"I am Thaxll'ssillyia. I serve the Dark One." _the Shadow Dragon's jaws barely seemed to move, but the empty, haunting tones echoed through the room anyway. _"You shall serve him willingly. Or you shall serve as the dead ones serve, mere shadows and shades. Make your choice."_

Mazzy stepped forward, planting her feet solidly as she stared into the face of the creature which had murdered her companions. She did not falter. She did not faint. In a voice that belied her stature and spoke to her true nature, she cried aloud, "We shall not submit to your master. We shall not submit to you! And before this day has passed, your darkness will fade! Now defend thyself, beast- Mazzy Fentan shall see justice done!"

The Shadow Dragon roared, a chilling screech that sent tremors through them as it swept its wings, rising into the air to tower above them all in the flickering firelight... before swooping down in a blur. Its charge was not entirely unexpected; Firkraag had done the same, albeit he had elected to stay on the ground for most of his attacks. Minsc was already moving to counter- the Equalizer swung upwards, striking hard against the Shadow Dragon's claws. The power level of the elven sword compared to his axes was immediately noticeable; a piece of claw, shorn completely off, clattered to the ground behind Minsc, even as the Shadow Dragon shrieked and broke off its attack, swooping past Minsc and back into the darkness of the upper ceiling.

Perhaps Minsc had thought the dragon would try to hide in the darkness, awaiting a moment where it could attack freely. Perhaps he was simply overconfident from the ease at which he had drawn first blood. Regardless, a wing buffet knocked the ranger off his feet and sent him flying across the room as the Shadow Dragon descended from the ceiling, this time behind where the big man had been standing. It turned, looking to strike Minsc again- Mazzy deftly leapt in front of the dazed ranger's body, waving her torch back and forth as though to ward the Shadow Dragon off. It seemed to recoil just slightly- but it was not enough. Not to quell the beast fully. It curled its lithe neck back, and then snapped it forward as gouts of black smoke burst from its nostrils and enveloped the halfling. Aerie's eyes opened in horror, expecting to see fire follow the smoke and incinerate the knight and her protector.

They had not expected fire from a Shadow Dragon, or they would have been prepared... no. No, Mazzy was not alight, no flames followed as would have been the case against a red wyrm. She was holding her sword high, trying to use it to block the smoke, but it was of little use. She was dropping to one knee, her strength and energy waning as the negative energy sapped her will and her ability. In a few moments she would be unable to hold her weapon; two strikes relieved her efforts, one from Aerie and one from Imoen. Lightning crackled at Imoen's hands, the thief-mage watching in satisfaction as it arced along her arm and then jumped from her hand as she extended her palm at the dragon. It landed in chaotic bursts, jolting and disrupting the blurred form of its wings. Aerie's attack was much more direct- her eyes turned white and her robes billowed all around as she raised her hands in a plea to the gods she served; light erupted and encircled her as a False Dawn arose, sending the wyrm scrambling away, seeking refuge from the light.

It disappeared into the shadow of the fading firelight, the walls that had been alight slowly growing dimmer as their battle wore on. It was effectively invisible, waiting for a moment to strike as Aerie's power faded, the cleric breathing heavily as she tried to regain her strength- out of the darkness above, Thaxll'ssillyia dropped before Aerie, arcing a claw strike to cut her in half. Aerie threw herself backwards, a split-second before she would have been killed. The claws cut through her robes and slashed across her front, leaving a red stripe across her stomach and face. She fell to the ground, trying to push herself backwards from the dragon's final strike; Solaufein moved to distract it from behind, but the wyrm simply flicked its tail, knocking Solaufein aside. He slammed into the wall of the room, slumping to the floor as his mind struggled to reconnect with his body.

Aerie watched in helplessness as Thaxll'ssillyia's jaws came down to envelop her in darkness- another lightning bolt struck, this time surging through the side of its face. It halted at the last moment, turning to glare at Imoen, standing defiantly with one hand still enveloped in a cage of electricity. She smirked at the beast, an obvious challenge- it growled, then shot upwards again, disappearing into the darkness. This time, it did not crawl through the shadows of the ceiling, moving slowly and silently; the beats of its wings could easily be heard as it circled above. Glimpses could be caught as it continued to stalk the mage who had dared challenge it- Imoen murmured a spell, preparing for the inevitable attack that would come for her.

There- from the right, Thaxll'ssillyia bored down upon her, black smoke blasting down to weaken and blind her before the actual attack- it lurched suddenly, faltering under the extra weight that had just landed atop it. Imoen looked in surprise to see Mazzy on top of the beast, holding her sword and torch as she slashed at its blurry head, her torch blinding the dragon. Minsc was back up, picking up the Equalizer after throwing Mazzy to intercept the dragon's low flying attack. For a moment, Imoen thought that they had found victory; Mazzy was striking directly at the dragon's head with a powerful weapon, blessed by Arvoreen himself... but the shadow magic she had endured earlier was too much. Her strikes were too weak to end the battle; with a set of twisting, corkscrewing maneuvers, Mazzy lost her grip, plummeting to earth, caught by Solaufein as the drow leapt to intercept her. He landed in a crouch beside Minsc, the three looking up in wary caution as the dragon continued its flight through the upper reaches of the hall- it turned back to them, diving for them as the shadow magic swept from its nostrils again, this time striking all three.

Aerie glanced at Imoen, who nodded in confirmation. They need to implement her plan, and quickly. The Avariel climbed to her feet, ignoring the pain that her wounds caused. First things first: aiding her friends. She could see through the fading smoke that Mazzy was already down, unconscious. Minsc was barely conscious, leaving only Solaufein to stand against the dragon, using the Vorpal Sword to block any strikes the dragon made as it swatted and clawed at its weakened prey.

Aerie inhaled sharply... then began casting. Like before, white mist began swirling around her body, her pupils slowly fading to white as she chanted her magics... but it didn't stop there. White turned to blazing, blinding gold. Her feet lifted off the ground as she brought all the power, all the energy that she'd stored into play. She raised both hands and felt the divine power coursing through her, focusing it on one target- there. A portal of light erupted above the dragon, loosing a pillar of blazing fire and sunlight directly upon the back of the dragon. The Sunray only lasted for a few moments, but it sent the dragon to the floor, its back smoking and burning with the sudden blast of light and power. Aerie drifted back to the ground, panting with the exertion. Could it be that her power had felled the beast for good? It didn't move for a moment, and she began to hope... it stirred, and Aerie knew they didn't have much time. Solaufein caught Aerie's eye, then nodded as he tried to help Minsc to his feet, carrying Mazzy with his other arm. He tried to lead them back towards the staircase, away from the dragon and back to the Hall of Lights.

Thaxll'ssillyia roared in fury as it pushed itself up, launching itself forward toward the retreating warriors; Imoen blurred into the way, smirking up at the dragon as she blasted it with lightning yet again. She knew what was happening... it was the same thing that had happened to Firkraag in their fight. It was getting angry. Sloppy. Replacing strategy and tactics with brute force. The bolt of lightning sent the wyrm recoiling for a brief second, perhaps enough time for Imoen to retreat. When it came back down, she was still there, this time holding her bow in hand. The dragon did not waste the opportunity; both claws came down, set on rending Imoen limb from limb. The Contingency spell Imoen had cast a few moments prior finally activated, sending several skins of stone up from the ground to envelop her and both claws bouncing off as two of her protective skins fell away. Thaxll'ssillyia halted for a brief moment, taken by surprise; under her newly minted stone features, Imoen grinned and whispered, "Oops..."

The string twanged with its release, shooting the lightning arrow point blank into the dragon's belly. It howled with the impact, the flesh and scale blackening and crusting away with the power. Imoen backed up further, looking back at Aerie as the elf prepared her own final attack. Aerie took out her sling, then unwrapped the sun gem that Mazzy had given to her. Unlike a diamond or a similar gem, this crystal would shatter easily. Especially if impacting against something as hard as dragon scales... if a tad bit ethereal. Loading it into the sling pouch, Aerie took careful aim, waiting for the dragon to rise up on its hind legs once more…

Before Aerie could launch her attack, the dragon blew its wings and sent both girls flying backwards. Aerie's eyes widened as she saw the sun gem fall from her grasp, sliding across the floor, underneath a pile of rubble in the corner. _At least it won't get stepped on there..._

Her time for contemplation was cut short abruptly, Thaxll'ssillyia's massive bulk rushing forward and pinning her against the wall, moments after she had cast her own protective magics. Armor of Faith was the quickest protection she could muster... but definitely not the best. She groaned with the impact, her whole body aching as the dragon hit her again, knocking her senseless. Without the spell she would have been dead already, but the portion of damage she was still enduring was growing to be too much. Her hands groped at her side, feeling for the familiar touch of the weapon at her side… just as the dragon's head came down to devour the elf in one bite, Aerie's arm swung around with the Flail of Ages, all three heads catching the dragon's face full on. It reared back, screeching and howling as the fire, frost and acid from her blow cut deeper into its face, blood running from the wounds into the dragon's eye.

Dizzy with the number of impacts she had taken, Aerie stumbled over towards the rubble where the sun gem was lying, clutching her bare stomach with one hand, the Flail with the other. She winced as she tried to breathe; every breath brought a searing lance of pain to the girl's body. Ribs broken? Probably. Internal bleeding? Definitely. The world spun as she managed to uncork the final potion of healing she had in her pack; she downed what she could of it as she dropped to her knees, searching for the sun gem.

Imoen watched in worry as the determined young elf searched frantically, robes bloodied, torn, and dirty. The wounds she had endured while being beaten by the dragon were probably more serious than they looked; Aerie's Armor of Faith had nowhere near the protective qualities of Imoen's Stoneskin. Aerie would be in serious need of healing once this was all over. _If they survived_, Imoen thought to herself as she cautiously circled Thaxll'ssillyia, drawing its attention. Their goal had been to weaken the beast enough for their real plan to kill it right away, but they were running out of time. Two of their three fighters were down, and Solaufein was completely taken up with getting the other two back down to their final point of defense. They would need more time; it was a long staircase back to the Hall of Lights, and Aerie hadn't even completed her part of the plan yet.

Not that they had any further choice; it was all or nothing, now. Imoen hurriedly voiced the words to a defensive spell, splitting her image multiple ways, each one darting back and forth as the dragon focused upon her. Imoen kept moving along with her copies, the dragon smashing each one as quickly as it could, its tail nearly catching her had she not dodged aside at the last moment. Imoen raised her bow and launched another arrow, this one indwelt with flame. She struck the wings, hoping to keep it grounded... a tactic she realized might've been a mistake, as it rushed across the hall towards her, blasting shadow magic across every copy in sight.

She tried to leap aside again- the very edges of the smoke caught her, sapping energy from her with even a small touch. Shaking her head to stay in the battle, Imoen rolled to the right, dodging another ground shaking blow. She thrust one hand out, casting the first spell that came to mind. A flurry of magic missiles launched from her palm, each small bullet of magic striking the dragon unerringly. Imoen couldn't help but smile as the simple spell hit home, chunks of scale and flesh and blood flying with each impact. It was a moment of indulgence that Imoen regretted, for as her eyes moved to watch her spell work, she failed to notice the dragon's tail sweeping across the floor, the appendage snapping across her side and sending her tumbling. She looked up with a moan, her final Stoneskin gone. Her vision cleared just in time to see the dragon's claw reach out and pick her up, bringing her even eyed with the beast. It glared into her eyes, hatred thick in its gaze. She tore herself from its vision, glancing down at Aerie, even as she pulled at the constricting claw. It was surprisingly cold... the touch drained the life from her with each passing second. Aerie was climbing to her feet, holding her sling in one hand as she placed the gem in the other; Imoen just needed to keep the dragon occupied for a few seconds longer…

Imoen looked into the malice-filled eyes of the dragon holding her, then made her decision. A quick incantation, completed just before she would've been bitten in two- a Color Spray ignited directly into Thaxll'ssillyia's eyes, blinding it as it released her, swatting at the blinding strobes. It stumbled backwards, smashing through some of the pillars in the room, rearing up in fury... and presenting Aerie with the perfect opportunity. She spun the sling as fast as she could, aiming directly for the exposed part of the chest, where scales and ethereal flesh had been exposed...

It shot from her sling at blinding speed, the crystal hurtling directly at the dragon's chest. It impacted solidly, exploding and sending shards of the gem to splinter all over the dragon's body, embedding themselves in the scales and in the flesh that was exposed by the attacks of Mazzy and Minsc. It charged, bearing down upon them as the two girls raced toward the entrance they had come up originally. They slipped down the staircase, spotting Solaufein, Minsc and Mazzy almost to the bottom, almost to their final stand. Hopefully they would have enough time; Thaxll'ssillyia would not be able to fit through the staircase as it stood, but from the blows that rained upon the stone of the temple, they had no doubt it would force its way through eventually. Behind them, the sound of rock and stone collapsing spurred them on as Thaxll'ssillyia forced its way to the five mortals who had hurt it. Aerie tripped as she hurried down the staircase- Imoen caught her before she fell completely and the two continued to hurry down the stairs, finally reaching the bottom without a moment to spare.

The crystal from the Hall of Lights that still radiated its power had been half-enclosed by the mirrors they had pried from the ceiling. Their jury-rigged fixture had turned the crystal into a spotlight of sorts, reflected off one final mirror that Solaufein and Minsc were hefting, allowing them to direct the light anywhere they wished... and as Thaxll'ssillyia finally burst through the stairway, the light beam fell directly on its chest. The beast drew back for the briefest of moments with the new light upon its visage, but it merely growled and stepped forward again, preparing to smash the two warriors who held the mirror.

"Wait for it…" Imoen grinned, watching as the beam fell across the exact place where Aerie had shattered the light gem. Thaxll'ssillyia glanced down, saw the glittering fragments, then looked up in unexpected horror. It finally understood, but far too late-

With the sound of a million explosions, each sliver of the light gem that was hit by the light flared, sending searing fire across the dragon's body, exploding with the directed light as a catalyst. Each one was small, but the thousands of fragments were enough to engulf the Shadow Dragon in fires beyond their expectation. All five of the adventurers averted their eyes, Mazzy just barely conscious as she raised an arm to block the light. As the last of the explosions ceased, a cloud of smoke was all that they could see in the chamber before them. For a minute, all was quiet. Then, the body of the Shadow Dragon fell out of the smoke, its enormous size shaking the room as it hit the ground. Its eyes were glassy and open, blood pooling quickly from underneath its chest; Imoen was relieved that they couldn't actually see what the explosions had done to the dragon's chest. Solaufein stalked over, hefting the Vorpal Sword... he jammed it into Thaxll'ssillyia's skull, all the way to the hilt. After drawing it out, he turned to the others, nodding firmly. "It's done."

"And justice has been claimed for my beloved Patrick." Mazzy managed, her voice tremulous and weak. Aerie limped to Mazzy's side, mustering her remaining magics to restore the knight's strength. "I... I thank you all for your aid. For helping me find peace. But our duty... our duty is not done. We must still destroy the Shade Lord before-"

An unearthly shriek echoed from the top of the staircase, and the entire room rumbled around them, cutting Mazzy off. "Before he summons the rest of his army to protect himself. You said he was weak, right?" Imoen asked, drawing another arrow to her bow as she looked around nervously.

_"Weak? No... I have enough power to deal with you mortals. But I would rather you join me... such a waste, were I to destroy you now."_

The quiet, unholy tones permeated the room, and all five looked to see the body of Merella, decaying and gray, stumbling down the ruined staircase. The sheer power that was so barely contained in Merella's weakened body was apparent to all present. The Shade Lord was there.

_"I see that my knight miniature has escaped and returned with more souls to feed upon. You have destroyed my Shadow Dragon, but I will forgive even this offense. Take your places by my side, as my undead followers-"_

Imoen snarled and whipped her bow up, launching an arrow that struck the Shade Lord between the eyes. "Undead? Try all dead."

Merella's body- the embodiment of the Shade Lord- tottered for a brief moment in shock, then collapsed. Imoen exhaled, then glanced at the surprised looks of the others. "What? The Shade Lord was weak, ready to launch into another huge monologue designed to delay us until his shadows could get here... and you didn't really want to fight another huge battle after all that, did you? Let's get up to that Altar and get it torn down before the rest of that army finds us."

X X X X X X

_Two minutes prior._

Greywulf's chest heaved as he leaned against the back wall of the wolf den, his legs barely able to support the weight of his body. The remnants of his Blue Fireshield were one of the few things that were still keeping him from harm; the fire encircled and protected him, but only for another few moments. The fires were already fading, and the crowd of shades and shadow fiends that were sweeping through the room, occasionally taking half-hearted slashes at him before recoiling from the flame, would finally be able to claim their prey. Greywulf tried to raise his hand, whispering the words to a basic spell- magic missiles spat from his hand, striking down another shade. Not that it made a difference.

His powers were exhausted, long since used and spent in his fight to protect himself and Jaheira. The druid's body was still safe, still covered by the Resilient Sphere he had summoned. It would collapse soon as well... but by then he'd be dead. He'd failed Jaheira, and whether his companions were dead or whether they were still trying to reach the Shadow Altar, it was too late. He watched with despair as the blue flames that surrounded him began flickering, fading away- he raised a hand to try and summon another, but the magic fizzled on his tongue. Too weak. For fifteen minutes straight he'd fought the shadows. He'd swept them away with fire, immolated them with lightning, and blasted the corridor clean with Sunfire spells. Still they came. By the dozens. By the hundreds. Crowding the wolf den until it was all he could do to keep them at bay. He'd given it his all... but his all just wasn't enough.

As the barrier dropped, the shadows swarmed.

Icy claws ripped into his flesh, not cutting, but draining the life out of him as he gasped in agony, dropping to his knees as all of his remaining strength was swept from him. He writhed on the floor as the shadows ravaged his life energy, cutting away his will until he was barely conscious. It was... it was surprising. He had thought dying would hurt- had thought it would hurt so much more. Instead, it was rather... peaceful. The pain was now gone completely. In fact, he was altogether numb. So tired... so sleepy.

Another ethereal claw slashed through his face; he felt his mind jolt, losing concentration. Just... just a bit of sleep, that's all he needed. His body unclenched, all tension leaving as he slowly sank into an oblivion of bliss-

The sound of the Resilient Sphere failing cut into his hearing. His eyes flashed back open, his neck arching just enough to see Jaheira's body exposed to the shadows. Some of the creatures that were far away from Greywulf had turned their attention to the now uninhabited body. A vessel, just waiting to be used; if they inhabited her, she'd be lost forever. No. He would sacrifice himself; he would let himself fall into darkness, but not her. Just... just needed some rest first. Some sleep... no! Coudn't sleep- would sleep forever. There was just no strength... no strength left to fight.

_**But there is. My strength. OUR strength.**_

_But you- I can't use you. Can't. Swore not to. I swore... didn't I? _

_**You also swore to protect her, didn't you? Would you break one oath to fulfill another? You can control me, you have already proven that. Go ahead and use my power, then return to your natural form. I submit to your will. Save her.**_

_I... I can't... I must. Yes. I did swear. Swore to save her. We'll save her._

A burst of flame erupted around Greywulf's body, sending the shadows and fiends away, shrieking at the sudden fire, the sudden power. The shadows that had been menacing Jaheira recoiled as well, pushing each other back out the hallway, skittering at the edges of Greywulf's reach, hissing at this sudden development. The wizard slowly stood, his whole body wreathed in black flame. His eyes began to glow black as red mist swirled around him-

An inhuman shriek echoed through the cave, through the very forest itself. It reverberated like nothing else he had heard before- and at the sound, the shadows howled in despair. They rushed from the cave, disappearing so quickly that within seconds, there was no trace of the creatures of darkness.Their unwarranted retreat grabbed Greywulf's attention; his mind cleared for an instant, and in that moment he grabbed hold of his humanity, pulling it to the forefront and denying the urges of blood that were pushing at the edges of his vision. He used all the strength that the Slayer had lent him to push the transformation away, sending him back to the ground in a collapsed heap as his eyes slowly returned to their normal brown. Why had they fled? Something... something must have happened back at the temple. The same reason the Shadow Dragon had left... to protect the Shade Lord. Had his companions finally been victorious?

He allowed himself a weak chuckle, his entire body exhausted as he lay there. He knew they could do it. He had faith in them... he struggled to push himself over to his pack, set aside for the fight. It was difficult to open it, but his trembling hands finally unclasped the opening flap, enough for him to pull a Potion of Vitality from the insides. He downed it immediately, scarcely taking time to swallow as he felt its soothing power restore feeling to his limbs; he opened his eyes, glancing into the glass of the potion bottle-

His breath caught as he stared into the glass, trembling as he looked upon the visage of the Slayer, grinning back at him- he dropped the flask, letting it shatter into hundreds of pieces on the stones below. His heart was like a thudding drum in his chest, the pieces of glass below now reflecting nothing but his own haggard features. No... he hadn't changed. Had he? He looked at his hands, reassured to see human fingers, tanned and dirty skin. Just... they wouldn't stop trembling. The Slayer was so close... so close to the surface now. So close to taking control. He grasped his wrist with one hand, feeling the sweat run down the back of his neck. The import of what had almost happened finally touched him, his thoughts gaining clarity and focus with time. He had been willing to turn into the Slayer again. Willing to give it control, believing he could take it back easily when his work was through. The beast he had once sworn never to give control to, to die before changing… he would now rather change than die. His conviction was weakened, so much so that he would have become it- become evil itself, and not just by accident. Willingly. He shivered once more in the air, reaching with a shaking hand to take the torn cloak that lay on the ground. He pushed himself over to Jaheira's side, wrapping the cloak around him; if the shadows returned, there was nothing he could do. So he simply sat and waited, his eyes resting on the rocky ground between his boots... and on his shifting reflection on the shards of glass that littered the ground there.

Minutes passed- still he remained, unmoving from his seated position. Unable to move. His own reflection stared back at him from the shattered glass on the ground; it glimmered, shining light into his eyes. Greywulf frowned, and then looked up, seeing pinpricks of light filtering in through holes in the wolf den's ceiling. Light that would never have been able to come in otherwise- he smiled, letting his whole body relax. They'd done it. Despite all the odds... they'd done it. With that, he finally allowed unconsciousness full reign upon him.

X X X X X X

Voices. Familiar voices. What had happened?

He remembered the wolf den... he'd fallen unconscious. Had the shadows returned?

More voices. Voices he knew. Voices he never thought he'd hear again.

He opened his eyes- no. Impossible. He blinked once... twice... his breath caught in his throat as he finally focused on who was cradling his head, holding him as he lay on the floor of the Temple of Light, still too weak to move.

"C-can't be... it can't be." he whispered. "Jaheira?"

She smiled through tears and nodded.


	96. Part 3: Hindsight

_One hour ago._

The Sanctum of Light was a bluster and torrent of dust and dirt, swirling and thoroughly visible in the noontide sun. Yes... just as it was meant to be. The Altar of Light, once corrupted and darkened with the magics of the Shade Lord, was now clean and pure, gleaming with the light that broke through the collapsed roof and the forest canopy. The symbols of Amaunator shone brightly with life, encircling the Altar and the upraised arms of the statue that protruded from the far side of the Altar. From the Sanctum to the entry to the Hall of Lights, the darkness had been banished from the Temple of the Sun, and no trace of the Shade Lord's wickedness remained. Even the Shadow Dragon's massive corpse had all but melted away, thoroughly disappointing Minsc, who had taken a note from Keldorn and suggested gathering scales to form a new suit of armor. It had been a feasible idea, until Imoen had noted that with the money they'd spent repairing the Equalizer and the Red Dragon Scale, they were back to where they started before heading out to rescue her from Spellhold: dirt poor.

Despite the blaze of glory and hope that shone through the Sanctum, it wasn't joy or even excitement that crossed the faces of those who stood and waited. For that's all they could do- wait. Wait for the news, whether it be good or bad. Solaufein and Minsc had volunteered to go, considering they were probably the only two who could have carried back their lost companions. Aerie shared a nervous glance with Imoen, leaned over and squeezed her friend's hand tightly. She knew how hard Imoen was taking it; she'd never wanted to leave Greywulf on his own in the first place, though they had been in such dire straits, there was little time to argue. She'd simply taken it on faith that he'd come out of it unharmed, as always. No matter how often he was dealt a hand in life that simply screamed for death, he somehow managed to walk out unscathed, to pass through the flames and calmly return to her side. Until the Underdark... and even then, he'd eventually returned. It was like he refused to simply lie down and die... that was what made her so nervous. He had to know they'd won. The simple fact of seeing the light again should have been enough to tip him off. And with Jaheira's resurrection on the line, she had expected him to arrive within minutes of their destruction of the Shadow Magic that had corrupted the altar. The fact that he hadn't... that it had been literally hours since they'd ended any threats or impediments to him returning to them, that was what made her nervous.

"He'll be here." Aerie's gentle voice cut into Imoen's worries, evoking a slight smile from the pink-haired mage. "He survived the Underdark... I think he can survive a few shades on his own."

"Yeah... yeah, sure." Imoen nodded, swallowing tightly as she glanced back toward the stairway that led up to the Sanctum, the uppermost room in the Temple. She let her gaze return to the Altar of Light, and the enveloping arms that cradled outward from the altar itself. They were bronzed arms, with a bowl that connected the two arms, large enough for a human to lie in, albeit uncomfortably. One part of the deal, according to Aran Linvail. She dug into her pack, feeling inside until she found the grotesque item she was searching for. Bodhi's heart, blackened and dried. She looked at it in disgust for a moment, then thrust it back into her pack. The second part of the ritual. The only part missing... Jaheira.

"You must have great loyalty to your companions." Mazzy's rich tones came from across the room, the halfling knight sitting against the wall opposite from Aerie and Imoen. She brushed an orange dreadlock from her view, then gestured towards the Altar. "You came all this way, braved such danger... all for one friend? 'Tis a kind of bond I have seen few places on Faerun."

"Yeah, well... I don't think Greywulf would've given us much of a choice." Imoen quipped weakly. "He and Jaheira... they meant a lot to each other. I just..."

The sound of footsteps knocking small pieces of rubble down and away from the half-collapsed stairway grabbed the attention of all three women sitting there; Imoen scrambled to her feet first, followed by Mazzy and Aerie. They leaned down into the stairwell, squinting to see their returning companions, whether their fears were dispelled or justified. Imoen felt her breath catch as their forms came into view: Solaufein carrying Greywulf's limp form, while Minsc held Jaheira closely to him.

"Minsc!" Imoen shouted, even though the two were close enough that a simple query would've done as well. "Are they okay? Please, tell me they're okay-"

"Greywulf is alive, if that's what you mean." Solaufein grunted, finally reaching the top of the stairwell and placing the unconscious body of the sorcerer beside the altar, Minsc standing beside the drow's kneeling form, still holding their druid companion closely.

"Like this?" Imoen asked with a frown, though inside she was sighing in relief. She looked on as Aerie knelt by Greywulf, running her petite hands over his cheekbones, then placing them over his chest as she whispered incantations of her clerical magics. "Aerie... how is he?"

"Weak." she glanced behind her, a hint of worry in her blue eyes. "His life force is... faint. I can barely sense it; there are no physical wounds on his body that I can see- the shadows must've nearly drained him. Still... he is not dead, and given time and my healing spells, he will survive. Jaheira's powers could help too..."

The idea brought up the task that they'd been dying to attempt since arriving, the entire reason they'd left for the Umar Hills in the first place... and yet, nobody moved a muscle upon Aerie's words. The fear that it would fail, that it would all be for naught... it was nearly palpable. Finally, Minsc stepped to the altar, laying Jaheira's body into the cradle with surprising gentleness for a man of his size and girth. He took a step back, his face solemn with understanding of just what they were about to undertake... and what it would mean if it failed.

Imoen exhaled, removing Bodhi's heart from her pack, once more. She stared at the decayed and decrepit organ for another moment, silent and unmoving. Finally, she walked to the Altar and placed it atop Jaheira's stomach, before moving to stand beside Minsc. All was silent as they stared, wondering if there was some chant, some mystic verse in praise or plea to Amaunator that needed to be recited. If it was a plea to the gods, Keldorn would have been more suited. Jaheira herself grew up in a royal family and was never at a loss for words... even Greywulf could have found something emotional, a plea out of his care for her to implore the dead sun god to rise again and restore their companion.

Tymora's blessing however, proved faithful that day. An ethereal voice, hollow yet powerful, echoed through the grand halls of the Sanctum of Light. _"You... you are the ones who destroyed the rod of power. Those who stopped the beholder from taking control... who freed my followers from their hate. Now you seek my aid in lifting the plague of teeth, just as I aided so many years ago."_

Out of the very air stepped a ghostly knight, similar in form to the one that had spoken with Jaheira, Keldorn and Greywulf when they had infiltrated the halls of the Unseeing Eye cult. Its armor was refurnished, new and it stood with an air of strength. An image of the sun was emblazoned on the armor's breastplate, and it glowed with an inner light. It did not turn to look or converse any further with the others, but instead walked straight to Jaheira, standing over her. The avatar of Amaunator raised a hand, intoning loudly, _"By the rising of the Sun, let the night be gone. By the light of the rising, let the darkness be banished. By the power of the light, let her rise again. Amaunator has spoken."_

A blaze of light forced all who were watching to look away, unable to see past the glory of the fading god. Imoen forced her way into the shining abyss, pushing to Jaheira's side... the knight was gone, leaving them alone once more. She let her gaze wander for a moment, as though searching for the god to reappear; there was nothing. Beside her, Bodhi's heart began to glow; a sickly black to begin with, it glowed green from the inside out, drawing the vampiric essence from Jaheira's body. It flowed from the very pores of her skin, leaving her free of the taint of the undead as it was sucked inside. Her skin's gray pallor began shifting; flecks of gray began peeling and cracking, slowly wafting from her as the originally tanned, healthy skin began to show underneath. The wound which had ended her life, an ugly hole over her heart began closing, the flesh restoring itself as it closed and was made new. With a final expulsion of light from her body, her chest heaved with breath and her eyes flashed open.

"Jaheira!" Imoen cried excitedly, immediately leaning down to embrace her, the druid barely comprehending what had happened as she lay limp in Imoen's arms, green eyes darting back and forth as she gasped for breath.

Perhaps Imoen noted that the woman needed a moment; she let go and took a step back, still beaming as she waited for her to speak- she did not, only sitting up in the cradle of life as she stared at Imoen. "I... I am alive. How-? How is this possible?"

"You know. A little magic and a few friends go a long way." Aerie smiled, gesturing to their surroundings. "The Temple of Amaunator was a little rough to find, but we managed. I'm glad you're back, Jaheira."

"I... thank you. All of you." she whispered breathlessly, still trying to regain feeling, her senses. "I just... I never expected this- but it does not matter. Where are we? Where are Greywulf and Keldorn-"

Her eyes tracked over to spot Greywulf on the floor, still unmoving and unconscious. Concern was visible in her eyes as she glanced back up at the others. "What happened? Is he all right?"

"He will be fine." Minsc shook his head gently, lending her a hand as she stepped out of the cradle, nearly stumbling as she tried to regain her footing, slightly unsteady as she used the ranger for support. "He fought bravely to protect you from the shadows. We could not stand by his side to protect him, but he never left your side while we tried to clear the Temple-"

Jaheira swung her gaze up toward Minsc with wide, then narrowing eyes. "Temple? This... this is not the Temple of Amaunator, is it? The ruins in the Umar Hills?"

"It is, good woman." Mazzy said with a nod and a bow as she offered a hand to Jaheira. She paused for a moment, obviously unfamiliar with the knight, to which Mazzy responded as their hands shook, "Mazzy Fentan, your grace. I was a captive to the Shade Lord and his dragon until your company came and freed me from his clutches. We fought together to slay both dragon and master; verily, it was a pleasure to find solace and vengeance in the company of such worthy and noble individuals."

"I see." Jaheira's tone had lowered, a glare on her eyes as she turned toward Greywulf's form. "I assume he is responsible for bringing all of you here into this mess?"

"Well... you didn't think he'd just leave you undead and all?" Imoen said with a slight frown. "I thought you'd be happy to be... alive. He is partially responsible for this, y'know?"

"I understand." Jaheira said calmly, brushing the dust and dirt from her arms. "And when he wakes up, I will be sure to thank him through his thick-headed, stiff-necked, fool-hardy and reckless skull."

X X X X X X

Keldorn rubbed his eyes, blinking once as he looked around him. It was the same sight he had seen just as soon as he had fallen asleep, the green stitched roof of the elven tent he had used as shelter. His hand moved down to the hilt of his sword, lying beside his bedside, and he relaxed just slightly as he felt its comforting grip. Just knowing that both Carsomyr and the Hallowed Redeemer were within a moment's draw gave him a better feeling, despite the fact that if the drow had pushed this far into the elven camp, they were in far worse trouble than one man could deliver them from.

The smell of burnt flesh wafted through his tent, a putrid mix of death and cooking meat. He swung his legs over the side of the cot, pushing himself up as he stretched his arms and neck, then bent over to don his leather tunic. Taking the time to fasten the Red Dragon Scale to his body, just in case, he tied his blade to his side, leaving the rest of his pack behind. The afternoon sun was still high enough to illuminate the camp, though another few hours would give way to sunset. He took a moment to gaze toward the horizon, mentally counting out how much time they had left. A little more than a day. If Greywulf and the others were going to succeed, it had to be now. They could not wait much longer, and Keldorn had bought them all the time he could muster.

He breathed deeply in acceptance, then began making his way through the innards of the elven encampment. He passed by several tents where the wounded tried to recuperate, hoping to be of some use in the eventual assault on Suldenesselar. Several druids now numbered themselves with the elven casualties, though it did Keldorn good to note that Cernd was not among those who had fallen. He finally passed through the midst of the injured and came out at the entrance to the surface tunnel, finding Elhan with ease. His golden armor did little to hide his identity in daylight; he watched the tunnel with continuous vigilance, even as his own men stacked the dead of both drow and surface elf in separate piles, to be dealt with when the threat had passed. He approached with a respectful nod, drawing Elhan's greeting as well.

"I trust your rest was uninterrupted? We endeavored not to wake you, though I had my concerns when the drow attacked a third time." Elhan didn't bother to look at the paladin as he spoke, instead choosing to continue watching his men as they carried out the grim post-battle tasks.

"Their incursions have not ceased yet?" Keldorn asked with a frown. "I must confess, I had not expected them to show such ferocity with their leadership in disarray. With Matron Mother Ardulace and her daughter dead-"

"Their forces should have scattered, been easy to push back and force into retreat." Elhan cut him off, his eyes narrow and face solemn. "Any other race might've followed your logic Keldorn, but not the drow. You saw their ways. Their struggles for power and their strivings for gain, no matter what the cost. A drow commander would throw dozens of his men into battle, knowing that we would slaughter each one if it meant he would receive more glory in Lolth's eyes."

"A hard day's night then, I presume." Keldorn took note of the tone in Elhan's voice, the posture with which he held himself. The elf was growing impatient- not leaving for Suldenesselar when he had the means to do so was bearing down on him, even though he had made a promise to Keldorn. The paladin had no doubt Elhan would keep his word, for all the good it would do if Greywulf and the others did not return soon. "I must ask, though… is there any word from Greywulf and the others? A messenger, word from your scouts...?"

"Nothing as of yet." Elhan sighed. "As promised, we will not leave for another day. I have faith in your companions; they will arrive."

Keldorn did not respond, his brow furrowing as he stared past Elhan. Elhan frowned, leaning in closer to Keldorn. "Keldorn, are you well? Did you hear me-"

_"Keldorn… can you hear me?"_

"I… I can. Greywulf, is that you?" Keldorn said suspiciously, Elhan looking around strangely.

_"Yes, Keldorn, it's me. I trust you are well?"_

"As well as can be expected. How are you doing this?"

_"A tracking spell, mixed with the ring of yours Imoen pick-pocketed again, plus knowing your location… a short range communication ritual spell works wonders if you have all the ingredients."_

Keldorn glanced down at his hand, only now noticing that the ring Imoen had 'promised' not to pickpocket anymore was gone. He shook his head and muttered, "Let Imoen know I expect it back the moment I see her again. But you are near then? May I assume that your mission was successful?"

_"Couldn't have gone better. A Shade Lord and his pet dragon destroyed, and the most beautiful woman in the realms restored to us. I'd say we'll be there tomorrow morning. Oh, and Jaheira says hello."_

Keldorn smiled, the light-hearted tone in Greywulf's mental voice a welcome change from the angst that he'd been put through lately. "Glad to hear it. I look forward to seeing all of you again."

The tiny presence in his mind vanished, giving Keldorn an involuntary shiver as he felt it fade away. The paladin shook his head briefly, then turned to look at Elhan, who wore a bemused look across his features. Only now did Keldorn realize that the elf had listened to one half of a conversation; he nodded to him apologetically. "Sorry."

"Not at all." Elhan raised a hand lightly. "News about the rest of your team?"

"You said we had a day left, Elhan." Keldorn said with satisfaction, folding his arms as he took a moment to finally let himself relax, staring up at the cloudless sky with a faint smile. "They'll be here in time."

"Nothing could please me more, Keldorn." Elhan nodded, keeping his tone carefully neutral, making it impossible to tell if he was being facetious. "I shall inform the rest of my men. We will leave as soon as they arrive-"

"Perhaps it might be better to wait for a moment... give the others time to rest after making such a long trip." Keldorn added carefully, not bothering to look at Elhan. "'Tis a long trip from the Umar Hills, after all. It might be wise to wait, perhaps, another few hours. Still, it is your choice. I think I shall aid the druids in their stewardship of the Underdark entrance."

Elhan scowled, irritation at the sense of Keldorn's words forcing him into another unwanted delay. "I thought I was the commander here, Keldorn. You seem quite adept at making the decisions of others for them."

"Me?" Keldorn shrugged and smiled kindly as he walked away, heading for the gathering of druids and soldiers. "No... only when the situation dictates. Your city will be freed soon, Elhan."

"Indeed." Elhan murmured, the real source of his anxiety cropping up once again as the paladin left his company. _Liberated… but at what cost… and at what shame to our people?_

X X X X X X

The world was a supersonic blur, his mind sweeping over both plain and forest; it was a complete haze as the tunnel that his consciousness swept through pulled itself backward faster and faster until he saw himself for a brief second. Greywulf blinked, then exhaled as he realized that his spell had ended. He turned and nodded to the six expectant figures behind him. "He's fine, and it sounds like he convinced the elves to wait for us after all. And Imoen? He expects his ring as soon as we get back."

Imoen laughed as she balanced Keldorn's ring on her finger. "Oh, I'll give it back to him. Well, I'll give this other ring to him anyway. It looks well enough like his real one, don'tcha think?"

"I think you have far too much time on your hands, child." Jaheira snorted, though not unkindly.

"If I've got too much time it's because I don't have enough money." Imoen scowled. "Seriously… this's the second dragon we've killed, and not a single gold coin for either of them?! This whole 'get-rich-quick by dragon slaying' is worthless."

Minsc slapped Imoen on the back and said, "Do not underestimate the worth of the slaying of dragons, Imoen! We may not have gold, but we have the great glory and honor of knowing that it was our boots who stomped the dragons! Rejoice!"

Imoen beamed back at the ranger and gave him a quick side hug, flipping her hair out of her face. "Meh… whatever ya say, Minsc… whatever ya say."

Jaheira watched the group, such as it was, laugh and joke and boast... all part of the post-battle stress relief. She'd seen it, done it, knew it after a moment's glance. It only happened after the big ones; the ones where winning had been almost out of reach, a victory where the price had nearly been too high. It was... strange, to know that the battle had been fought over her. That she'd been the impetus for all the sweat and blood that had been spilled in the Umar Hills. Granted, things could not have gone better. They'd destroyed the evil of the Shade Lord that had consumed the Temple of Amaunator and freed Mazzy so that she could return to her family in Trademeet. She'd travel with them until they were close to the elven war camp, where she could easily cut across country towards that city of commerce.

As for herself... she'd been in agony. Been locked in torment until they freed her soul. She owed them a debt greater than she could ever repay... not that she'd ever say it. Not openly, anyway. She had yet to speak with Greywulf about his role in bringing them there; her desire to thank him and be so flattered that he felt so strongly about her to risk what he had to save her was at odds with her practical side, the side that knew just how much danger he'd put all of them in for one life. The trade-off should not have been an option.

"Jaheira? D-do you mind if I speak with you for a moment?"

She heard Aerie's voice, and for the moment she banished her conflicting thoughts and glanced to face the Avariel who had somehow, without her notice, appeared beside her in lock-step. The girl's eyes never quite met hers... they never really did, unless it was in one of their prior shouting matches. Jaheira couldn't help but smile wryly. The potential she had shown back in the Athkatla circus upon their first meeting had blossomed into outright power. She was, without question in Jaheira's mind, the most powerful member of their party, sans Greywulf. Even that was slightly debatable, when considering how much of the young man's power came from his heritage.

Of course, the only person who didn't know it was Aerie herself. Jaheira let her normally serious tone falter for a moment, sounding unusually amicable as she replied. "Of course. What is it?"

"I had a question for you." Aerie said hesitantly, a thoughtful expression on her face. Her tone hinted at a question that she felt would be difficult to answer, rather than simple lack of self-confidence on her part. "We're told so much about how Undeath is a nothingness... and we know that either reward or punishment awaits the living. So what happened to you when you died? You were neither undead or allowed to die naturally…"

Jaheira grimaced; the memory was a painful one. "It… was not pleasant, to say the least. I remember being plunged into darkness- and then floating in nothingness. No light, no change, just a constant state of limbo, not allowed to continue to a final destination and not obliterated either. Perhaps a fate worse than either, to be truthful. I… I do not wish to discuss it any further, Aerie."

"I-I understand." Aerie smiled gently. "I won't bring it up again."

Jaheira forced a smile, then continued on, moving up to Greywulf's side as they continued their trek out of the Umar Hills and towards the elven camp. They had stopped briefly in Imnesvale to let Minister Lloyd know the full tale of what had happened, who had been overjoyed to find that his town was now safe, and also that Mazzy was still alive. Though saddened at the news of Merella's death, he had rewarded them with a magical suit of chain mail, which Jaheira now sported. Minsc had graciously turned down the position of ranger of Imnesvale, and soon they had left the town behind, a fond farewell waved at them by the whole gathering of townspeople. Jaheira had shown no ill symptoms since her revival, and for all intents and purposes, it was as though she had never died.

But the effects on the others... the effects on Greywulf; she couldn't ignore it any longer. She glanced at him, clearing her throat. "Greywulf... we need to talk."

"So formal." Greywulf arched an eyebrow, but there was a hint of concern in his features that could not be ignored. "Then again, you've always been direct. It's part of your attraction, after all."

She didn't miss the careful and not-so-subtle probe into the status of their relationship. She suppressed a roll of the eyes at the thought; after everything they had been through in the past day, his first concern was over their newfound love. She didn't know whether to thank him or hit him for it. She took a middle route, choosing her words carefully. "I see you have not lost your charms in all this. Before you woke up, Minsc and Imoen told me what happened; where we were, what you risked to bring me back to life. It was a danger you never should have taken on. Thank you."

"I couldn't bear losing you. Not after all we've been through together." Greywulf said gently, taking her by the hand as they continued walking. She felt the familiar grasp of his hand, let it relax her for a moment... no. What she said wasn't going to be easy for him to listen to. She slowly but firmly pulled her hand away, turning to look directly into his eyes.

"They also told me what happened in Bodhi's lair and how you killed her. You became the Slayer again."

He did not answer for a moment, but his gaze did not move from her face. He sighed and responded slowly, "I did. It was my failing. When I saw what she had done, what she had turned you into- I lost it. I couldn't even feel myself anymore; everything was numb, all I could feel was rage, anger... revenge."

"You can't allow that in yourself, Greywulf. You don't have that luxury." Jaheira insisted, frowning as she spoke with him.

"I'm sorry… just seeing you that way-"

"No!" Jaheira's eyes flared and actually brought a look of surprise to Greywulf's face, her expression hardened and serious. "You cannot do this to yourself. You cannot let your feelings for me cloud your emotions or judgment. We lead a dangerous life, you and me… the threat of death is present at all times. It is a miracle we have survived this long; there is a good chance we could die each day… either of us."

"Jaheira, neither of us-"

"Just listen to me, Greywulf." she cut him off, her green eyes flashing with both stern insistence and a hurt that spoke to how difficult these words were for her as well. "If something happens to me- swear to me you will not let it govern your emotions. Promise me you will not give in to the Slayer to save me or to avenge me. I will not have you throw your very soul away in my name. If you cannot do this, then we cannot continue our relationship. I would not end it lightly... but I will do what I must to save you."

He listened to her words, taking them in and letting them roll around in his head. She had stopped speaking and was waiting for him to respond. Long seconds passed before he smiled sadly at her and said with a nod, "It… it is a hard thing you ask of me, Jaheira. But you bring back old convictions I had sworn once. Convictions I needed reminding of. I swear it."

Her posture did not change; she still remained tense even as she nodded in acknowledgment. He frowned then sighed in surrender, "I get the feeling that there's more coming, right?"

"Yes… what you have just said only reinforces what I believed to be true." Jaheira said slowly, as though trying to think of the best words to express her thoughts with. "I would not have to demand such a promise from you if not for the great changes you have undergone."

"Changes?" he asked. "Some examples, maybe? Aside from the scaly, demonic transformation, of course."

"You're not going to want to hear this…" Jaheira warned, but Greywulf raised his hands.

"No getting around it now, and knowing you, it's for my own good."

She sighed and turned away from him, staring at the grassy path they walked upon, her eyes flashing over the rocks and dirt and twigs they trudged over as she spoke. "In the time we've been together, you've grown so much. In age, wisdom, experience, all of those things. The most noticeable ones have included your powers, your confidence, and your strong capacity and desire for good. I have watched you mature and have been both proud and amazed at the level on which you act upon these qualities. However... you have lost something recently. You always kept the right balance of those properties, and I fear you are out of balance now."

"Out of balance?" Greywulf thought on her words, shaking his head in confusion. "I don't follow..."

"Confidence can quickly become arrogance; power corrupts, and great good must be kept in check lest it turn to evil." she recited easily, before meeting his eyes again. "All of these things are intertwined, and when you lose your balance in one, it causes the others to falter as well. Perhaps you cannot see it, but everybody else has. The fact that nobody so far has called you on these mistakes brings me further concern."

Greywulf felt himself shiver at her words. "I think... I think I know what you're talking about. For some time now, I've been feeling... conflicted. My decisions, my actions- I feel like there have been better options, even though I couldn't see them at the time. Guilty, almost. Distressed, as though my actions were wrong, and yet I could see no evil in them."

"Good then, that you have time to step back and see your failings. I believe this began when you decided to release the Slayer willingly in the Underdark; I think that one slip affected you more than you know, touched and tainted the rest of the decisions you have made since then." Jaheira admitted. "Everything you've done since then has grown steadily more reckless; the ways you've changed grew ever more apparent."

"What did you see?" he asked quietly.

"What haven't I seen?" Jaheira began, shaking her head as she counted off the events. "Coming to the Harper base with only Imoen as backup, intending to rescue me with no clue of what you might face. Agreeing to defend the De'Arnise Keep, despite the danger and ignoring any warnings or advice. Going to the Umar Hills and releasing Keldorn from the group because of your disagreements. Agreeing to seek out the Altar of Light even when you knew about the killings, the Shadow Dragon, the Shade Lord, and the extent of the darkness. Letting Aerie, Solaufein, Imoen, and Minsc go on to fight in the temple, knowing what they would be facing; knowing that seven of us barely beat Firkraag, and that their numbers were cut in half for this battle, since you would not join them."

"I had to-" Greywulf began to interrupt, but Jaheira shook her head and cut him off. "You did not have to stay with my body. You could have left me in Imnesvale with Minister Lloyd and his wife. No harm could have come to me so far away from the fighting. You brought me because you believed you were the only one capable of defending me. Oh, and having arrogance enough to think that you could control the Slayer and use its power without consequences. Should I keep going, or are you convinced?"

He shook his head in disbelief, running one hand through his hair to come to rest at the back of his neck. "No… you're right. About all of it- the arrogance, the overuse of my Bhaal-powers… and I was too blind to see any of it. When I was defending you, they almost got me. Got both of us. I didn't tell the others, or you until now... but I was this close to becoming the Slayer. For those terrible moments, I convinced myself that I could control it, that I could make the Slayer my tool for salvation. Even now, I see its face in the mirror out of the corner of my eye, telling me that it's my servant, that I can control it completely. Exactly what you were just saying. Arrogance."

Jaheira took a deep breath as the silence between them hung there, waiting for one of them to break it again. She finally shrugged and spoke, "I know you're better than all this… I just need to see you act it out. Don't think I'm not grateful for all the good you've done, for rescuing me and saving the lives of so many at the Keep. But I care for you more than ever, Greywulf. I do not want to see you lose yourself to this taint you fight. If that means me pushing your flaws and your weaknesses to the surface, then I'll do it."

He nodded, taking her words to heart. Keldorn had seen what Jaheira had pointed out, and tried to warn him. He hadn't listened, and if it was Minsc or Aerie who was telling him this right now, would he still be as willing to take their advice? He thanked the gods for the woman that walked beside him, knowing just how close he had drifted to the edge. Still, thanks to her, he hadn't fallen off. Not yet. "Jaheira... thank you."

She let the edge of her lips curl upwards in faint acknowledgment, and then took his hand in hers, holding on tightly and letting it swing back and forth in rhythm as they walked together.


	97. Part 3: Loose Ends and Resolution

A morning breeze. The very tips of the deep green pine trees illuminated by the faintest rays of sun that dared to breach the night sky. Long silhouettes stretching across the ground as the figures stood shoulder to shoulder, walking with a deliberate but slow gait, enough for an observer to realize the import of just who was approaching. Someone would see them in the distance, pointing and shouting for their commander as the figures, still too ensconced by the morning sunrise to be fully made out, continued their approach, finally marching with all confidence, dignity, and above all, adoration as they returned from near certain death to reclaim and uphold their positions as the greatest of heroes.

Or at least, that's the way the story-books told it. In truth, timing the arrival of a band of adventurers to reach the crest of an overlooking hill at the precise moment the sun came up would be no mean feat in itself. To have a full compliment of straight-backed, unflappable heroes striding ahead in perfect symmetry with each other... that was also unlikely. Not that any of it mattered much to the six adventurers who were trudging up the final hill that overlooked the elven war camp as the second hour of light settled in the sky. They weren't trying to hit the precise moment of sunrise. They were simply trying to get back to the elves before they left without them.

Greywulf sighed in relief as he leaned heavily on his quarterstaff, nodding at the camp below. "Still there. Looks like we're not too late after all."

"Great." Imoen rolled her eyes, inhaling and exhaling deeply in sequence, rubbing her eyes with one forearm. "So we hiked all last night through the morning to see that they hadn't even packed up yet. Could it have hurt us to take a break somewhere? Anywhere?"

"Minsc is not tired, no sir... but Boo is not used to traveling for such long distances without rest. See how he yawns? Such behavior is uncouth for him, and he apologizes." Minsc added between yawns of his own. "Perhaps we might take a nap before returning to the vengeance-seeking?"

"Take it up with Elhan. He's the one who says when we stay and go, if I'm not mistaken." Greywulf tossed behind him, raising a hand as two elven scouts rode their horses to arrow distance, assured themselves of their identities, then returned to the camp's base, undoubtedly to inform Elhan that they had arrived.

"You think they could have lent us those horses? Maybe they could walk for a while?" Imoen cried out, obviously hoping that the elves would hear her, though it was to no avail. "Lazy elves..."

"I'm not sure if I should be offended." Aerie remarked as she walked beside the fuming thief, her robes brushing the top of the grass as they began the trek downhill.

Jaheira was walking beside Greywulf, studying the camp with an analytical eye, nodding with satisfaction as she spotted the glimmering armor of the elven commander in the sunlight. All the other elves had been sent away, already making preparations to pack up and prepare to depart. The elf stood alone at the bottom of the hill, waiting for them to reach him. "Quite the greeting party. If I didn't know better, I'd think they weren't happy to see us."

"As long as there aren't any arrows headed our way, I'll be happy." Greywulf countered with a grin. He fought back his own yawn, then glanced at the others. "In retrospect, a quick two hour nap might not have been a bad idea. At least it would have saved me the inevitable payback Imoen's going to take on me for this."

"Make certain that any of your childish antics with her are kept between the two of you and nobody else." Jaheira warned, her eyes flashing. Greywulf winced as he remembered the last time that she had been dragged quite unwillingly into one of their miniature wars. "And don't even think about trying to rope Minsc into it again."

Elhan stood with his arms behind his back, watching the six companions find their way down the paths of the hill, walking with the weariness of a battle fought and victory claimed, albeit a hard-won victory. It would take the elves time to pack their gear and make ready to head for Suldenesselar; time that Keldorn had bartered to give the others time to rest. From the looks of it, they all needed it. The only one in the bunch who didn't look ready to collapse on the spot was the drow... and Elhan hadn't forgotten about their deal. He fully expected Greywulf and his company to have brought him the Equalizer, though there was little he could do now if they hadn't come through with their end. Was he going to sideline them from the siege? Ban the drow from accompanying them, after everything Keldorn had described of their battle with the Exile's sister?

"Elhan. It appears the others have arrived, I see." Keldorn's calm, deep tones came from behind, though Elhan's keen hearing had picked out the paladin's footsteps almost thirty feet back. Cernd was quieter, but he could tell the druid was with Keldorn, even before he turned to nod to the pair as greeting. "I trust you'll ensure they get all the care they need before we head out?"

Cernd smiled wryly at the way Elhan rubbed the bridge of his nose as Keldorn awaited his answer. The way Keldorn was able to manipulate people, not through trickery, lies, bribery or threats, but through simple charisma and force of will, was absolutely amazing. He could command the respect and the attention of everyone, his enemies and allies alike. The fact that all his words made a great deal of sense as well did not harm for his arguments.

"I have already agreed to your proposal, Keldorn." Elhan said with a deep exhalation of breath, training his blue eyes on the older man. "It will take some time to gather our equipment while the druids move to better holding positions. We will spare some of the reinforcements we received from the Wood Elves and Letherel, but all of our own forces will accompany us to Suldenesselar. We must have every advantage when we siege the city. Will you and yours be prepared for this responsibility, Cernd?"

"We will be fine." Cernd said mildly, the feather pin necklace that adorned his chest blowing in the breeze as he squinted into the horizon. "I feel a shifting of the wind… the drow will not fight much longer. I sense their resolve weakening; their will to fight has been sapped by so many losses. In truth, Keldorn was correct. The war was over once Ust Natha lost its leaders. It has only been us convincing them of that so far."

"Would that we could convince them with words and not blood." Keldorn offered.

"Alas, the drow have anger and pain as their home, and a woeful, cold place it must be." Cernd sighed. "They could never look and see that I and my brothers celebrate life, renewal, the parliament of trees and the splendor of nature's bounty. Shar, Lolth, and all their ilk revere nothing but darkness, revenge, entropy. I fear that trying to parley with the drow on such matters would lead to nothing but more bloodshed. The surface world and the Underdark shall never see eye-to-eye… but I suppose like all parts of nature, that covenant needs to be balanced and maintained as well."

"Perhaps." The paladin nodded, gesturing toward the still descending group of six that was just halfway down the basin of the surrounding hills. "But Solaufein might have some insights into your philosophy. I would suggest you speak with him, though I fear he is not much for conversation."

Cernd chuckled lightly, his deep tones settling as he took a look toward the horizon again; he frowned, squinting as he made out a tiny figure, ascending to the top of the hill behind the group. "Cernd? Something wrong?"

The druid turned to face Keldorn's question, then glanced back toward the crest of the hill... nothing. "I... apparently not. A trick of the light, perhaps."

"I would be negligent not to ask in a war zone such as this." Elhan admonished, before looking to where Cernd pointed.

"I had thought there was a figure there, a moment ago. Nothing I could make out or discern, but a man... or a woman, nonetheless. There is nothing now, as I'm sure your elven eyes can detect." Cernd exhaled, and then brightened as he took another look at the adventuring party, closing in on their location quickly. "Ah... you did not tell me Jaheira was one of your fellow travelers. It has been some time since we have seen one another."

"How was I to know?" Keldorn glanced at the druid, a wry smile across his face. "She was dead the last time I saw her."

"Truly?" Cernd frowned, shrugging in calm acceptance of the casual admittance. "Then Death suits her. I have not seen one who has passed beyond look quite so lively."

"Keldorn! It is good to see you again." Jaheira's accented tone was full of warmth and genuine pleasure at seeing him; the party had arrived, Jaheira moving forward to accept Keldorn's embrace, the paladin squeezing her once before releasing.

"Jaheira- I had feared I would never see you again." he said, taking a step back out of respect. "It does me good to know you are alive and well."

"You should know me better than that, Keldorn." she arched a thin eyebrow, seeing Cernd for the first time. "Well... this is quite the surprise. Cernd. How long has it been? Five, six years?"

"The years fly by as swiftly as the eagle on the wind." he quoted, before nodding to Jaheira. "As direct as ever, I note. I was just commenting to your paladin friend how well you look for being... dead, was it?"

"It appears to have been less than permanent." Keldorn smiled, before inhaling sharply and affecting a stern, disapproving scowl as he stepped over to Imoen. "Now, thief, I believe I am owed something from you."

"All right, don't get yer armor in a bunch…" Imoen said as he pulled the ring from her pocket, flipping it like a coin into his waiting palm. "See, no harm done."

He studied it for a moment and sighed, leaning closer and poking his open palm for emphasis. "Imoen, I may be old, but I'm not senile. I know well enough when I'm being conned."

Imoen feigned a look of innocence, then scowled at a chuckling Greywulf as she handed him the real one. "You told, didn't you."

Greywulf shrugged, making small circles with one hand as he made a half-hearted attempt to disavow his knowledge. "Mental communication... it's a tricky thing, y'know? Things slip out here and there..." He caught Keldorn's eye, to his own credit, not flinching when considering everything that had taken place between them lately. "Keldorn. I'm glad to see you survived without us."

"I could say the same for you." he smiled wearily. "You kept him in line, right Minsc?"

"Of course! Minsc and Boo forged the line of justice, and a large, glorious line it was! Very difficult to fall off of." he said proudly.

The paladin stifled a laugh before turning back to the others, though Greywulf was rubbing the back of his neck gingerly, thumbing toward an unoccupied area in the camp to the east. "Uh… why don't the rest of you take a moment to collect yourselves. Elhan, if you could show the others where to go? Keldorn and I need to talk for a bit."

Elhan shook his head in slight disbelief as he led the others to sleeping quarters much like the one he had lent Keldorn for his time spent at the war camp. He wasn't quite sure when it had happened, but it seemed as of late that he wasn't quite as in command as he felt he should be. These adventurers weren't used to taking orders from anyone, and an elven commander was no exception. Still, when it came down to Suldenesselar's safety, they'd either help or be pushed out of the way. He would take no chances with his city. Not when facing a threat like the Exile.

The paladin and the sorcerer took a brief walk, neither saying a word as they left the others behind, finally arriving in a clearing of the camp where there was nobody to overhear or listen. Even then, there was still tension in the air. At least there was to Greywulf. Keldorn didn't look discomfited in the slightest... probably because he knew he was right about everything they'd argued about. Greywulf wasn't much for awkward silences; he exhaled briskly, then spoke. "Anybody else right now would have the biggest, smuggest expression on their face. You know that, right?"

"I'm not sure what about. Jaheira has been resurrected; you and the others all returned in one piece... if anyone should be smug, surely it would be you, correct?" Keldorn remarked, craning his neck upwards to stare into the cloudless morning sky.

His innocuous, humble words only served to spur the sorcerer on further. "All right then. Don't make it easy on me. Keldorn, I owe you an apology, and it's as simple as that."

"Do you, now?" Keldorn replied, raising one eyebrow.

Greywulf laughed a bit, then continued, "Yes… I think so. I've made a lot of poor choices lately. I'm sure you know exactly which ones I'm talking about, considering that you called me on almost every one of them. You tried to keep me from doing something we'd all regret and I wasn't willing to listen. Because of me, we all almost died, and you were forced to leave to ensure that my recklessness and pride didn't doom Suldenesselar. I owe you a lot, Keldorn… and I would be honored if you rejoined our party."

Keldorn bowed his head in acknowledgment, putting one hand on Greywulf's shoulder. "We're both proud men, Greywulf, and I've had to eat my own words on occasion. I know what it cost you to say what you just did. I also know it takes a great deal of courage and character to admit when you've been wrong. You're still a good man, and I will be proud to fight by your side once more."

"Then it's settled. We face Irenicus in Suldenesselar together." Greywulf nodded with a smile, before Keldorn leaned in, his voice lowering in tone to ensure that none of the keen-eared elves would be listening.

"Before we leave, we need to speak with Elhan. We cannot enter a war zone such as this without all the information. You know as well as I that he's not telling us everything. If we walk into this battle as the tools of the elves, then that's how we will be treated. Expendable. If you have any doubts, then take the word of Adalon."

"You spoke with Adalon? You've seen her since the fight for De'Arnise Keep?" Greywulf asked in hushed tones, surprised.

"Yes… she reinforced my feelings about Elhan's duplicity." Keldorn glanced at the elven commander, then back to Greywulf. "I will do everything in my power to save their city from Irenicus, but I will not let us die as fodder or be abused as simple tools. They do not trust us. Not completely."

Greywulf did not turn to look at Elhan, he simply let his eyes wander that direction, finally sighing in acceptance, rubbing his forehead with frustration. "Of course not. It's not like we killed Irenicus' most trusted ally and brought back two of their ancient artifacts."

"Minsc seemed rather loathe to part with that blade." Keldorn remarked, looking at Minsc who was still eyeing the Equalizer with a hint of longing. "The elves are a solitary race. They do not take kindly to outsiders getting involved in their personal affairs. The last war where the elves united with humans and dwarves was-"

"The invasion of Demogorgon; I read the history scrolls." Greywulf nodded. "What do you suggest, then? We can confront him directly, but... somehow I doubt he'll be too welcoming of our questions."

"If we pin him down right before we leave, all seven of us... I think we can persuade him." Keldorn smiled. "He's too stressed, too nervous not to give something away. If we continue to push him, he'll give up eventually."

"Or we could just have Minsc threaten him. Sounds like a plan then." Greywulf nodded, then turned to walk with the paladin back towards the others, and to a little well deserved rest. They informed the others of their plans, taking great care not to alert Elhan to the matter. It didn't take long for them to make full use of their opportunity to get some rest, and within a few minutes, most of them had already found some kind of sleeping quarters and passed out in moments. Greywulf found himself walking with Jaheira, finally nosing into a tent with an exceptionally comfortable looking cot inside. "This looks well enough; if you're satisfied, I'll find myself another tent and see you-"

Jaheira arched an eyebrow, taking him by the hand and holding him from leaving. "I'd rather you stayed."

Greywulf paused for a moment, glancing at the cot... then Jaheira... then the cot again. He began putting two and two together in his head; Greywulf coughed, feeling his cheeks redden slightly. "Uh... Jaheira? It's not that I'm not, uh... well, I just don't think this is really... well, that is... it's not the most private of places, if you know what I mean-"

Jaheira laughed, stopping Greywulf in his tracks as she sat down, pulling him to sit beside her. "Not remotely what I was thinking of, Greywulf. I simply wanted us to be... well, together."

"Ah." Greywulf winced with a sheepish grin as she studied his features with a wry smile. "I'm really, really, red right now, aren't I."

"Just like Keldorn's armor." she quipped, though it was taken in the manner it was meant. They sat alone for a few moments, just enjoying the cool morning breeze that swept through the flaps of their tent, even as Jaheira leaned against him, her hair nuzzling against his neck and inciting a quick shiver through his body. He put one arm around her waist, feeling her draw close to him as he did. He looked down to her eyes, asking quietly, "Are you all right?"

"I... I am. We are so close to the end; so much has happened over the past months, and I suppose I simply worry about how this will turn out." she murmured, glancing up to meet his eyes. "I fear that this will all turn out for naught... that Irenicus will escape or that we will fail to kill him..."

"We will survive, and get some payback in the end." Greywulf answered firmly. "We're not letting him escape. Not after everything he's done to us. No matter what the elves here say, he meets his end at our hands."

"On this we agree." Jaheira nodded, sitting up a bit straighter as a yawn somehow escaped her. "We will all do what we can for Suldenesselar, but it will be our vengeance that exacts payment from this madman."

"A payment that will prove rather permanent, I trust?" he asked wryly.

Jaheira merely flashed Greywulf something akin to a feral grin, before settling down again with a serious look as she shook her head, "There can be no mercy for this creature. What he has done is unforgivable."

"And still some good has come from all of this." Greywulf whispered, kissing the nape of her neck, Jaheira arching her back just a bit, trying only half-heartedly to escape his affections.

"Remarkably," she said a bit shakily, trying to regain her composure, "We… we wouldn't be this close without him. We might have parted company soon after we left Baldur's Gate and I would still…"

She stopped briefly, and for a brief moment the two were frozen, sure that they had dredged up painful memories or reminders for the other... Jaheira shook it off, comforting him with a rare smile. "I- things would be different."

Greywulf returned the smile, then cocked his head as if in thought and responded. "True enough. Well then, I will thank this Irenicus just before I feed him his own limbs."

Jaheira rolled her eyes and said with a mocking tone, "That's so sweet of you. Come... we should get some rest."

X X X X X X

Gently... gently. Two elves were making the rounds through the camp, headed straight for him. He took a brief step backward, out of their path. They didn't notice a thing, and he let himself exhale in relief. He'd watched them from a distance, and the tent he wanted was on the other side of the camp... no sense making things easy for him, after all. Then again, he wondered if they'd really be all that happy to see him. It wasn't as though he'd been the harbinger of good news in months past. In fact, with a few exceptions, nobody was usually very pleased when he showed up at their door. The elves certainly wouldn't be if they knew he was here. People always assuming he was about to meddle in their business... then complaining when he didn't meddle enough. There was just no pleasing some people.

He would have chuckled if the sound might not have alerted the elves to his presence; instead, he simply gathered his invisible robes and staff, then pushed past a few crates of food and supplies, winding his way slowly but surely towards the tents where the adventuring party was sleeping. His staff accidentally knocked against one of the crates as he was passing- he frowned in annoyance, looking to see an elf across the camp look up, his keen hearing catching the slight disturbance.

He stood perfectly still, waiting as the elf scanned the area, eyes narrow as he stood from packing his own gear for the trek back to Suldenesselar. The elf approached, walking to within feet of the invisible man as he searched for the source of the noise- the invisible figure glanced behind him at the crates he'd bumped. He raised a hand, pointed at the top crate and pantomimed pushing it with one finger as he let his magics flow...

One of the crates that was stacked in front of the elf slid off, almost ready to crash and spill its contents onto the ground. The elf leapt forward deftly, catching and softening the blow so that it did not break. He exhaled in relief, then turned in surprise as he heard a stern cough behind him. Elhan stood behind the warrior, his face impatient and testy. "What are you doing, messing around with these crates? I ordered our forces to pack and get ready to make for Suldenesselar, didn't I?"

The soldier nodded and coughed in surprise. "Ah... yes sir. I'll return to it at once."

He walked past Elhan, the elf commander watching him leave... then smiling wryly, before morphing into a much older, much more powerful figure. The old man straightened his red wizard's hat, then gripped his staff tighter and continued on his way, sparkling out of view as he renewed his invisibility spell. Navigating the tents and the war camp was fairly simple, as long as he didn't make any stupid mistakes. He was growing too old for this kind of thing, truly. Granted, half a millennia was a long time to tread the paths of Faerun. It wasn't as though he had much else to entertain himself.

Slipping by another pair of elves, he finally found the sleeping quarters he'd been searching for. Reaching out with his senses, he smiled wryly as he found the presence he was looking for. Only one of the party had such a strong-willed, fiery spirit. He walked to the tent and poked his staff in, brushing aside the door flap. He slipped in quietly, his large bushy eyebrows rising with a slight hint of amusement as he looked at the sleeping forms of Jaheira and Greywulf, lying against each other in slumber. He let the magics that concealed him expire, then seated himself as he produced a long stemmed pipe from his robes, chewing on one end thoughtfully as he lit the opposite with a flick of his thumb.

The blue smoke that was produced by his pipe wasn't known for its particularly wonderful smell, so it was only a matter of time before one of the two sleepers was awoken by it. His eyes twinkled as he watched them shifting, slowly coming back to consciousness. Oh... he'd almost forgotten. Wouldn't do to spoil the fun so quickly. One more spell... there.

"Ah. Good morning to the both of ye; I do hope you'll forgive my intrusion. The elves here are a bit unfriendly to strangers, and I felt it best to keep my presence secret but to those I had business with."

Greywulf sat up with a start, blinking as he tried to clear his vision and make sense of the situation; an elderly bearded man sat across from them in their tent, his long wooden staff gripped loosely in one hand while he held his pipe in the other. "Next time, try knocking." Greywulf scowled, frowning in confusion as he tried to remember where he'd seen this oh-so-familiar face before. "You look familiar. Yes… you gave us the note that Jaheira had left for us back in the plains, nearly a month ago."

"You know this man?" Jaheira said suspiciously, standing from the cot as she not-so-subtly took hold of her spear, eyeing him from above. "Then perhaps you know why he is here and why he has gone to such trouble and rudeness to find you?"

The old man chuckled, motioning for her to sit down again. "My apologies, Jaheira. T'was not my intent to offend, or embarrass, for that matter. I understand ye'll be leaving this place soon, and I wasn't sure I'd get another opportunity to speak with ye." he took another quick puff, then pointed at Jaheira playfully. "Tis ye I wished to speak with, nonetheless. Are ye surprised? I don't suppose we might have time for a word or two; Greywulf can stay as well, for this concerns him too."

Jaheira glanced at Greywulf, found no answers in his confused expression, then turned back to the old man, studying him further before responding. "I… do I know of you? Your voice is familiar, but I cannot place your face. You obviously know much of us, to have found us at this place of elven strength."

He chuckled, stroking the long gray strands of his beard, then replied, "Perhaps we have met. Or perhaps not. We traveled in much the same circles, though not at the same time. Terminsel is the… ahh… name, and I should like to ask ye a question."

Jaheira's brow furrowed for a moment, then her eyes narrowed in suspicion as realization came to her. Her eyes darted to Greywulf, and he gave an almost invisible nod to her; he had guessed the man's origin too.

Jaheira inhaled sharply, and then responded warily, "We met among the Harpers, did we not? I am through with them, as I have said to those who were willing to listen rather than fight. Many a decent person I have met there, but I'll be damned if I let Greywulf or myself be crucified for the failures of their own."

Terminsel smiled at the obvious threat in her voice, just waiting for him to make some kind of hostile motion. She was as volatile as ever; it wouldn't do for this to erupt into some kind of violence, so he waved his arms in a calming gesture, setting the long wooden staff he had down in a gesture of neutrality. "Yes, well, ye need fear nothing from me; just calm down for a moment, if ye will. I am well versed in the events that have occurred, and I have but a simple question to put to ye."

Jaheira stared at him for a moment longer, then her posture relaxed a bit, just slightly visible to the observer. "Then go ahead and do so. I wish this matter behind me, once and for all."

The smile returned to Terminsel's face, and the man sat up a bit straighter, picking his staff up again to rest on. "Oh, this will clear up a great many things, I'm sure. I care little for the specifics of what occurred in the Harper Hold, for it all was but a path leading to this moment here. No Jaheira, I've a question of a different sort to ask. For better or for worse, ye have thrown in your fate with this Greywulf, and he is, among many other things, a child of Bhaal."

"Yes, I know of this, so look ye not surprised." Terminsel added, arching an eyebrow as he looked at them both. "I also know of thy feelings for him, and the turmoil within ye. A rocky road is this relationship, worse still in the midst of avenging fallen friends and lovers. In the end ye have gone against thine own fellows, guided by your heart; ye have seen Greywulf's actions, and served with him through battle and peace. Ye have done what ye have done, there is no denying; the reasons for which are thine. I trust they are valid… if ye believe them to be so. This is my question, Jaheira. Did ye do the right thing?"

For a moment, Greywulf felt his breath catch. He'd thought them all over this. She had assured him that her mind was made up about her decision to follow him, and he'd believed her. Then why was he so worried about this old man's simple question? He knew, of course. He was afraid- afraid that his deeds, his heritage... his taint would raise doubts in her again. Would banish the security she- and he, in return- had placed in one another. He glanced to see her features, afraid of what he would see... there was no uncertainty. No fear. Her features were not that of a troubled mind or a troubled spirit. She leaned over to Terminsel and said firmly and without flinching, "Undoubtedly. I would do so again without hesitation. Greywulf is proven decent and others are all the more fools for not seeing so."

Both of them watched Terminsel to gauge his expression, but the only reaction was the hint of a satisfied smile, as though he had been expecting it all along. "Then that is the measure by which ye shall be judged. Think no more of it, and fear no more of any danger from the Harpers. They shall leave you well enough alone... at least, in the capacity of your enemies. Oh... before I forget, this little item was meant for ye. I believe it was forgotten in all the excitement. Wear it with pride, will ye? And get back to work."

Jaheira frowned, slowly opening her palm to receive the trinket Terminsel placed in her hand. She stared at it for a moment, then turned to the smiling old man, shaking her head in disbelief. She laughed, then after rubbing what looked like a single tear from her eye, stood and embraced the old man unexpectedly. He looked rather surprised for a moment, then chuckled as he returned the gesture. She let go and said wryly, "I… I believe I have placed a proper name to your manner, now that I have experienced it up close. I should have thought you fond of anagrams, 'Terminsel'."

The man laughed and then waved a hand over his face, the vision of Greywulf and Jaheira suddenly clearing, to Greywulf's great surprise and her satisfaction. Tapping his long wooden staff on the ground, a dimension door sprang open beside him. He turned to step through, but before he did he shrugged and said, "Yes, well, one must keep amused in one's old age. Good luck, Jaheira, and do not think thyself abandoned for the actions of a few. We simply do not work like that."

With those final words, he stepped in and disappeared, the portal closing with a zip behind him. Greywulf rubbed his eyes and turned to Jaheira, who was still chuckling in disbelief as she gazed at the small object she held. "That… that was Elminster. We met him, Imoen and I, a number of times in and near Baldur's Gate, before our battle with Sarevok. He certainly seems to take interest in our affairs… but why would he-"

"Show himself to you back then and cloak himself from your memory now?" Jaheira finished. "Elminster has his ways… half of which are for his own amusement. He alone knows… but I am most grateful."

"What did he give you?" he asked, curious.

She did not reply, merely took a small piece of leather strap and looped it through and around her neck so that the item dangled freely, right beside the locket he had given her. Greywulf looked closely; it was a small, golden pin… in the shape of a Harp.

X X X X X X

Elminster, wizard renowned over all Faerun, chuckled to himself as he pushed himself forward with the wooden staff he walked with. He inhaled sharply, his breath a little short after climbing the rather steep hill overlooking the elven war camp. He tucked his robes in, then sat down in the cool grass, laying his staff beside him. Pulling his pipe from his robes, he refilled it and lit it once again. Letting out a contented sigh as he watched the small curls of green smoke drift out and into the air, he took a second puff and turned his head to the side, throwing back behind him, "Ye can come out now, Reviane. Everything is fine."

The leather armored warrior stepped out from a cluster of trees. She bore a long sword in a scabbard at her side, and though she seemed at ease, her posture still suggested combat readiness at a moment's notice. Elminster apparently noticed, arching one eyebrow as he removed the pipe from his mouth with a trail of smoke. "Ye needn't look so worried. The elves are on the move, from the look of it… as well as thine friend Jaheira. They will be out of sight within the hour if the errand they are on is as urgent as I have heard. No time to bother with two simple watchers like ourselves."

Reviane's posture relaxed just slightly, though her face did not show any hint of a smile. She walked over to stand beside Elminster, watching the elven war encampment rapidly packing, preparing to move with only a small contingent of druids and guards left behind. She glanced down at the wizard, noting the pin that he had been keeping around his neck for the time was gone. "You gave her the pin, then?"

"I did." he replied, "Jaheira is a fully reinstated member of the Harpers, with a Harper pin to show for it. Such magical gifts are precious things; it will protect her well. A Harper she is, at heart and in name… though her resignation was really never fully documented."

Reviane did not seem to find the comment as humorous as Elminster did, so he sighed and turned to the serious woman, shrugging gently. "I understand your feelings about this matter, Reviane… it is why I allowed ye to accompany me here."

"Did you tell her exactly what happened? What the real situation was?" Reviane pressed, her almond shaped eyes flashing with urgency.

"Nay, and I don't expect she'll need anyone to tell her, either. She's one of the best we have." Elminster said, tugging the wide brimmed hat he wore further down to shield his eyes from the glare of the rising sun.

"And I was still so ready to believe her guilty." Reviane murmured, watching the procession below them as she ran a hand through her red hair.

The wizard sighed, tapping the side of his pipe as he puffed a few more times. "We all made a mistake, Reviane… don't shoulder all the blame. There's plenty of room for it to go around."

"But I was her friend… she trusted me. We came so close to fighting… all because of those bastards Galvarey and Dermin." Reviane spat angrily. "I should have known better than to trust the two of them."

"We could not have seen it coming… not fully, anyway." Elminster said, trying to calm the agitated woman. "Galvarey, perhaps… but without her coming before us personally to relate her version of the events at the Harper Hold, all we had were rumors and second hand tales."

"Tales that were intercepted by Dermin and related from his bias." Reviane continued cynically.

"Putting Dermin as the head of our investigation into the matter was a mistake on the part of the Council." Elminster admitted. "We thought that his past as her teacher and mentor would give him insight into this issue. Nobody kept looking far enough to see that the records of his role as Galvarey's mentor had been erased."

"And so we put Galvarey's partner in charge of hunting Jaheira down." Reviane said with a hint of bitter defeat in her mind. "And he nearly got me to kill her."

"I will admit, I am curious. Why didn't ye?" Elminster asked. "I know you confronted her… though ye might not have survived the battle."

"I… it didn't feel right." Reviane tried to explain, hesitating as she spoke. "Even the few words we exchanged in anger shook my confidence in Dermin. The evidence he gave for my attack was weak, hastily conceived… even I could see it was unbalanced."

"It all worked out in the end, did it not?" he shrugged. "Once he knew ye would not do his work, he felt he could not trust anybody but himself to do the job, continually feeding false information back to the Council."

"If it wasn't for your own personal investigation, the Council might never have seen through Dermin's lies. Why did you visit Greywulf personally?" Reviane inquired.

"I have had dealings with Greywulf before." Elminster smiled tightly. "He did not strike me as a murderer then. Or now. And... one might consider it a favor to Gorion. He was a friend."

They remained silent for a while longer, watching the remainder of the elven tents be taken down, the masses of elvish warriors gearing up to march. A breeze kicked up a flurry of leaves before them, which seemed to cue the old wizard. Standing up, he took one last puff into his pipe, then tucked it away after emptying the burnt weed.

"So what now?" Reviane asked quietly, watching him gather his staff and hat, tucking the wide brimmed garment over his head.

"Life goes on, Reviane… so do the Harpers. The corruption of one member, however trusted he may have been, does not discredit the remainder. I trust Jaheira will see that in time, and if she does eventually sever relations with us, it will be on better terms. We must all face responsibility for our failures… and prepare for the new challenges we face. I do not welcome the time that is rapidly coming."

Noticing the hesitant expression on Reviane's face, he forced a smile and said, "There are many Bhaalspawn in this world… very few are like Greywulf or Imoen. Very few indeed…"

X X X X X X

"Elhan! We must speak."

The commander of the elvish army turned slowly to the seven companions who had approached, intercepting him moments before he had planned to mount his horse and ride to the front of the line. They had readied the men and women for march, and despite the dangers they would soon be facing every elf was visibly anxious to return to the city of Suldenesselar. Elhan was no exception, though he kept his emotions well covered under a cool exterior of authority. Still, the new delay visibly irked him, frowning at their spoken command- not a request, to speak with him, delaying their departure again.

"What is it you want? Surely it can wait until we arrive at Suldenesselar." he frowned, ready to continue protesting before Greywulf raised a hand to cut him off.

"Elhan, we've done a lot for you already. We've stopped Bodhi, recovered the Rhynn Lanthorn... reforged that shiny new sword that's currently on your hip too. I think it's about time you told us what we're dealing with. Who is Irenicus?"

Elhan's face transformed, a stone wall of emotionless cover as he replied, mounting his horse in a clear signal that their conversation was over. "I told you everything we know. Your aid has been invaluable, and as per our agreement, you have been allowed to accompany us to Suldenesselar. As for your comment about the Equalizer, we allowed your drow companion free access through our camp, didn't we? There was no Geas put upon him, or any of you. I consider that more than generous on our part-"

"Fine. Minsc?" Greywulf nodded to the big ranger, who leaned over and yanked Elhan out of his saddle and tossed him on the ground with ease. Cries of shock and surprise could be heard from the elves that were behind the group, drawing swords and bows to come to their commander's aide; he winced as he regained his footing, waving them off. "I have told you everything I know. These threats, these arguments... they only serve to distract us from our true enemy!"

"Is that so?" Solaufein laughed. "Then Bodhi's words before we killed her are of no consequence. Should I repeat them here?"

Elhan abruptly turned and kept his back to them, growling behind him to the seven men and women who would not be deflected so easily as he tried to remount his horse. "Anything said by her or the Exile Irenicus must be treated as suspect! You would do well not to repeat their tales to those who do not need to know them!"

"So Irenicus is now 'the Exile.' That's not exactly a name for a stranger." Greywulf prodded, before Elhan spun his horse and said with cornered desperation, "No! This is not for you to know! Any of you! The Exiles, this Irenicus and Bodhi, they are criminals. Their crime was great and their punishment was greater."

"And so they have returned for revenge. I fail to see the shame you speak of in this." Greywulf shrugged.

"You do not understand, and I am not prepared to make you." Elhan said quietly. "If you truly wish to know more... you will have to speak with one of those who was involved. Demin the high priestess... if she is willing to tell you of this matter, then so be it. We will have to breach the city to find her, though. I advise you to forget your questions and prepare yourself for what we will face inside the city. I can only hope that the Exile will have left us a city to find."


	98. Part 3: The Beginning of the End

_Author's Note: Whew. This chapter took some serious effort to write, I'll say that much. I don't know why, but I didn't like the way this one felt, and I'm still a bit iffy, to tell the truth. Still, we are entering the final stretch. Five more chapters left, I think. Maybe six. Thanks again for all the support, the feedback, and especially for reading in general!_

A cool wind, blowing and sweeping gently through the thick foliage. Small beams of sunlight filtering through the canopy of leaves above. The twinkle of dewdrops glistening in those sparse rays of sun. Underneath it all, a procession that was as silent as death itself, even as the mass of elves that traveled held it in their hearts and minds that before Suldenesselar was freed from the grip of Irenicus, many of them would taste death. Minsc grunted as he stepped over a particularly large log, his frame and size allowing him to avoid crossing without too much trouble. The elves had simply leapt over, their deft agility more than up to the task. He glanced behind him, Aerie was looking for a simple way to cross, but Minsc offered a hand and helped her over in seconds.

Solaufein pushed aside the branches and underbrush that continued to impede his progress as he followed amidst the elven march. For what seemed like the first time in a while, he felt inexplicably uncomfortable in his armor. Usually it was something he barely noticed; a second skin, a part of him that he depended on for survival. Now, it just felt like an impediment, an itch he couldn't quite scratch away. Maybe it was being in such close quarters with the elves, or perhaps it was the magic of the city they neared. It was stirring... something, inside him.

Elhan walked at lead, holding the Lanthorn high as it directed his path and led them towards the great city of the elves. The pace the elves set was incredible, driven by their great dexterity as well as their desire to avenge the wrongs they had suffered in this war. They had entered the forest, making traveling on horseback less than ideal; the forest paths seemed to thicken around them, though Elhan kept moving without hesitation, his guide infallible. Their horses were seemingly unfazed, after dismounting and gathering their equipment, the horses galloped to a destination of their own knowledge, probably to wait for the elves to return. They watched their riders continue onward, as though knowing many would not be coming back for them.

The march took them up fallen logs and through branches onto the heights of trees, paths that seemed random and yet were designed to keep those of foreign lands out and away. Their path finally ended at the front of a giant tree, seemingly shooting into the sky with endless height. The tree was at least fifty feet wide, and its bark was hard as only long age and weather could design. Greywulf glanced behind him, noting the subtle shifting and fidgeting that the normally unflappable drow soldier was making. He felt it too... the power of Suldenesselar was overwhelming, even to those who were not of elven origin. To a drow, a former member of the elven race... a grimace passing over Solaufein's face was all Greywulf needed to see.

Elhan approached the front of the tree, the light of the artifact illuminating the obstacle in their path. He glanced over at the seven adventurers who traveled with him at the front of the procession, then murmured words of unintelligible elvish before them. Runes covering the Lanthorn glowed yellow, shining brightly to add to the light of the artifact. Its beam focused on the tree before them, lighting it brilliantly until the very surface shone like the sun in the noontide sky. Elhan's eyes began flitting back and forth beneath his closed eyelids, as though the essence of elvenkind was returning to him, indwelling his soul as he returned to his city. With a flash the tree before them shimmered and then dissolved into a large archway; green vines and tendrils spread over the intricate patterns, as though the inlay for the construction.

The elven commander opened his eyes... and any feeling of calm or peace that had returned to him was stripped away without pity. Three elven soldiers hung from the archway, their faces dark and discolored. Flies buzzed around their corpses, and their unblinking stares seemed to focus on the group who dared intrude, their dire warning unheeded by those who would fight to take the city back. Elhan clenched his fist, forcing his rage away. "Irenicus will pay for this sacrilege. At the end of this path lies the Bridge Court of Suldenesselar; the main platform from which every pathway in the city will lead to. It will be the first and best defended bastion for the invaders to attack from."

"What are your orders?" one of the elven commanders asked, even as bows and swords were loosed, readied for war.

Crowding the edges of the Bridge Court were two dozen archer towers, each one manned by a drow sharpshooter. More than a hundred of the dark elves stood guard, several guarding each pathway that led to and from their positions. They were, however, facing inward, looking for elves who might be fleeing the systematic purge of the city, trying to escape the city itself. Few, if any of the drow, considered that there might be an incursion coming from outside. Not to say that they were taken completely unawares; the sound of footsteps thudding down the walkway caught the attention of the closest guards first. The call was sent out; in moments every drow was facing the darkened path that led into the city from the outside world. The steps became louder, the shadows from inside stretching long... and with billowing cloak in his wake, Elhan burst from the tunnel with the seven adventurers behind him. Eight. Eight, in total, facing drow forces in guarded and fortified positions, nearly a hundred strong.

The elf commander raised the Equalizer, watching with narrowed eyes as one of the drow sharpshooters loosed his bolt, followed swiftly by missiles from the others. Aerie and Imoen raised their hands, and a blue globe of magic shimmered around them, sending the bolts flying. As soon as the first wave of attacks ceased, Elhan swung his sword down, shouting at the top of his lungs. "Fire!"

A volley of arrows shot over their heads, striking most of the drow sharpshooters, leaving only a few alive and able to menace them from above. Greywulf let himself relax just a bit; the first line of elven soldiers shimmered into view, his invisibility spell leaving them. The drow that stood level with them drew blades and began charging, unwilling to let the elves simply pick them off from distance, especially with their own ranged support so badly damaged. Just as Elhan had expected.

The golden-armored elf swung his sword forward again. "Fire!"

The first line of elves dropped to the ground, already in the process of slinging their bows and drawing steel. Behind them, another volley of arrows was loosed, striking the front line of drow warriors, dropping them in their stride. Greywulf felt his powers increase a bit more; the second group he had been cloaking with his magics was made visible, and he gathered his strength for the final push. He gripped his quarterstaff tightly, glancing at Jaheira. She returned the look, waiting for Elhan's final signal- "Fire!"

A third volley struck, and it was followed almost immediately by Elhan's voice, one last time. "For Suldenesselar! For Suldenesselar!"

The second and first lines of elves had traded their bows for swords and charged into battle, Elhan at lead, the blue-tinted blade that he wielded flashing with skill and dexterity that had taken an elven lifetime to acquire. The third line stayed back and continued launching arrows providing cover against the few remaining guard towers of the drow and watching for any reinforcements from the adjoining pathways. Beside Elhan, Keldorn and Solaufein slashed and hacked at their foes, cutting a swath into the center of the drow charge. The paladin grunted, shunting aside a swing as he spun with the movement and snapped his elbow into an opponent's chin. The dazed drow never saw Keldorn bring the Hallowed Redeemer back to slice into his gut; the blade was there and gone in the blink of an eye, Keldorn already moving to block his next target.

Solaufein slammed his shoulder into the man in front of him, then kicked out to complete the drow's fall. Solaufein reversed his grip on the Vorpal Sword and thrust it downward, stabbing through the man's chest with ease. He slid it back up and out, then sidestepped another attack, only to feel a glancing blow edge off his left pauldron. He grit his teeth as he let himself spin a complete half circle, the Vorpal Sword cutting through armor and flesh and bone, stopping inches from Keldorn's own body. Still, they'd been given a moment of breathing space- and that moment was gone just as quick as it had come.

"Elhan! Rakshasa!" one of the elven archers in the rear shouted, only to be silenced by one of the few remaining drow guardsmen, a crossbow bolt through his neck. Greywulf swore as he heard the warning, twisting in the middle of the battle to face the new threat. Four of the tiger like humanoids were loping down the walkways with their long robes flowing behind them, black and red, stained with the blood of the elves. A drow blade came down towards his neck- Minsc intercepted it and shoved the dark elf away, allowing Greywulf to proceed with his spell. A giant disembodied hand reached out, ghostly white and nearly ethereal; it plucked two of the hissing creatures from the path, slamming them into the ground with a crash. They twitched for a moment, then lay still. The other two raised their claws, igniting spells of their own; two Cloudkills ignited in the midst of the elven formation, sending dozens of the elven warriors to the ground, gagging as they clutched their throats.

Aerie struck down one of the few drow that remained, her eyes widening as she saw the danger facing the elves. They would die if she didn't aid them; her task was made clear immediately. She moved to diffuse the noxious fumes, letting her divine magics take hold, saving many more lives than the Rakshasa had anticipated. Two arrows shot over the heads of the creatures; they snarled and hissed, slowly backing away, but not before completing one last summoning spell each.

"Damn." Greywulf groaned in despair; two iron golems stepped out of the magical portals, took a brief moment to gather their bearings, then stomped straight for the crowd of still recovering elves, weakened and nearly incapacitated by the Cloudkill that Aerie had dispelled at the last moment.

The huge frames of the constructs might've intimidated any lesser warriors, but Keldorn did not shy from the battle; he stepped into the approach of the golem, letting the Hallowed Redeemer meet the golem's arm midway, severing it from the body with the shriek of tearing metal. It roared and stumbled backward a few feet, while Keldorn immediately moved onto the second golem, Solaufein joining him. Jaheira and Minsc engaged the first one, tearing less severe wounds into its metal shell while Greywulf, Aerie and Imoen resorted to protection spells and augmentations in place of offensive spells. Elhan and his men moved in and out as quickly as possible, dragging their downed men from the fight, trying to protect them from the monstrous machines.

The wild flailing of the golem to hurt its attacker managed to drive Keldorn back, but Solaufein stood in the range of the beast, deftly dodging each blow while continuing his attacks, finally cutting so many chunks of metal out of the beast that it collapsed, great holes and gashes covering its chest. Greywulf stumbled back from the towering construct as it fell, dust rising from the impact of its girth. He glanced back to see the other elven soldiers with weapons ready, but slowly lowering from their ready position. Just as well that they had not entered the fray; more fighters in a battle against a golem that large just meant more possible casualties. Elhan sheathed the Equalizer, then turned to his men grimly. "The Rakshasa will have warned the rest of the drow about our attack. If they have defenses entrenched amidst the city like this one, there will be a high risk of civilian casualties."

"I would not wish to bring further grief to the people or the city. What do you recommend as the best course of action?" Greywulf asked, glancing in the direction that the two golems had approached from.

"We must proceed with caution." Elhan said with care. "Not everyone in the city can withstand an onslaught like this. Their safety must take priority for me and for my men. Once we have rescued all that we can, we will take our city back from the bastard drow. Half of my men and I shall secure this platform. Any survivors will be brought here; we will not give another inch of this city to the drow. It will be a safe haven until we are all dead."

"And what about Irenicus?" Jaheira pressed, gesturing toward the whole of the city. "Surely you have a plan to deal with him as well?"

Elhan glared, then motioned for his men to get ready to move. "You accompanied us for the opportunity to strike back at Irenicus. I'm giving you that chance. You said that you wanted answers that I could not give. Now is your chance; seek out Queen Ellesime; not only will she be equipped to answer your questions, but she will know how to deal with Irenicus. She has a link to the divine not unlike your own, though through a much more benevolent spirit. Failing that, find the high priestess Demin. If anyone had warning of Irenicus and made preparations, it would be one of those two."

"Then you're not sending your men with us?" Aerie asked with a hint of surprise in her voice.

"A mass of elven soldiers would only draw more enemies to our presence." Keldorn said breathlessly. "If we can sneak through the city, letting Elhan's men and women draw the attention of the drow, draw out their strength... we might have a chance at finding what we seek."

"In fact, even moving as a group of seven might be too much." Greywulf glanced back and forth between the party. "Elhan, if you'll point us in the direction of Ellesime and Demin, we'll see about making it in one piece."

A sideways glance from Imoen, Jaheira, and Minsc got his attention; he smiled broadly and turned back to Elhan. "Oh, and also killing Irenicus in the most violent, painful way possible."

X X X X X X

_For a seven foot, two hundred and eighty pound man, Minsc could move faster than any sane man would've anticipated._

That was Keldorn's continuous thought whenever he saw the big man making use of the skills he'd acquired as a ranger over the years; it was a sight that still left Keldorn impressed, no matter how many times he saw it. It wasn't the same kind of nearly invisible movement that someone like Yoshimo or Imoen used... no, this was a more practical stealth. A fluid movement to continuously place Minsc into positions where he could escape and dodge from if necessary.

The two continued their crouch-run down the walkway they'd chosen, trusting that it would eventually lead back toward the Divine Court, where Demin's house was located. Keldorn had sheathed his blade in exchange for the small crossbow he kept at his side, while Minsc kept Stonefire in one hand, using the other to balance himself as he kept moving. They passed a patch of overgrowth from the trees that supported the city, creeping past-

A patrol of drow, almost certainly heading towards the Bridge Court to challenge Elhan and his men before their foothold in the city grew too strong. They looked at least two dozen strong; maybe if all seven of their number were together, they might've stood a chance in straight combat, but not as it stood. Not with two of them. For a brief moment Keldorn feared that Minsc would ignore the wise choice and charge into battle with no regard for caution or tactics; his fears were unfounded, Minsc immediately shifting to spin back toward the limbs and vines that crept over the walkway from the underside. He stepped onto the railing of the walkway and leapt off, sliding down the rough bark and pathway of the support limb until he found purchase, far below where the drow could spot him.

Keldorn followed suit, and by the time the drow had moved to where the two men would have been exposed, they were long gone. The sound of clattering armor and marching boots echoed above the two men as they held on, knowing that one slip would mean death, and not just from the drow; a fall from this height back to the ground below would most assuredly prove fatal.

"Keldorn."

The paladin shifted his grip on the branch he clung to, craning his neck to face the ranger's whispered call. He replied in similarly low tones. "What is it?"

A clamor of words, spoken in the newly unrecognizable drow tongue got their attention from above; both men stopped speaking as they peered upwards, watching for any sign that their enemies knew where they were. Minutes passed as sweat began trickling down their necks from the stress and the exertion... finally, the sound of movement continued, the force continuing onward. Keldorn let a small sigh of relief escape his lips, then gestured toward the walkway above to Minsc. "We should wait a few moments longer... make certain we do not emerge into the face of another patrol."

Minsc nodded gravely, then cleared his throat again, looking at Keldorn pointedly. "Minsc has a question for you."

Keldorn arched an eyebrow, trying to find a more comfortable position. Answering questions hadn't really been on his mind... but then again, Minsc's head didn't work in the same ways that everyone else's did. He quirked a smile under the sheen of sweat and grime on his face, nodding to the ranger. "Ask away, Minsc. We're not busy."

"Minsc knows why he is here. Dynaheir's death must be avenged, and he will see it done. But... but Minsc is honor bound to protect Aerie as his new witch. If avenging Dynaheir requires Minsc to give his life, then who will protect Aerie? Minsc asks you, as a brother in arms... if Boo and I do not make it, you must watch over Aerie. Will you do this?"

Keldorn listened, the ranger's voice deadly serious and unshaking. He meant every word of it; the man saw the possibility of his own death, and rather than struggling with its ramifications on himself, he immediately thought of others. He would have made a damn good paladin. Keldorn nodded with respect and affirmation. "Aye. I will do what you ask- but you need not fear, Minsc. You will be here to protect her, and I... I shall do what is necessary when the time comes."

His words gave Minsc pause, and the ranger frowned for a moment but Keldorn glanced upward and motioned for the ranger to follow him up as he pulled himself back to the walkway above, ending any further discussion. Keldorn landed in a crouch, glancing back and forth to make sure the patrol had passed; he turned and gripped the ranger's wrist, helping him over the top and onto his feet. Minsc got his bearings, standing to his full height- his eyes widened as he drew the Sword of Chaos, Keldorn spinning to see a pair of rakshasa that had come afterward, following behind the drow.

Minsc bolted for them, hoping to end the fight before their foes could use their powers; three clouds of smoke erupted in his path, revealing three of the green skinned trolls that had proven such formidable opponents in the past. The first fell victim to a back swing from Minsc's blade, the ranger trying to spin around to continue his attack and cut into the second troll- a double fisted blow from the troll sent Minsc tumbling away, skidding across the platform and away from the rakshasa.

Keldorn did not hesitate; he brought the Hallowed Redeemer in a mighty horizontal cut across the third troll's stomach, separating the lower half from the upper. Both fell, even as the upper body snarled and clawed at Keldorn's greaves. The paladin grunted as he pulled away, already calculating how much time he had as the sounds of new spells and incantations began echoing from the mouths of the rakshasa. No time for finishing off the troll, he had to get to the rakshasa and stop them-

A blur of green ham sized fists landed, the sound of plate mail bending and creaking with each impact. Keldorn's eyes widened to see one of Minsc's arms waving wildly underneath the mighty beast that had rushed him; the two rakshasa and the troll Minsc had cut down initially blocked his way to helping the ranger. Even so, he lowered his blade to attack position and prepared to charge when a blue and red flash shone at Minsc's side. The head and one arm of the troll fell off, the rest of the body collapsing as well. Minsc arose from the troll corpse, several dents on his armor and his face bloodied. Still, he held Stonefire and Frostreaver in either hand, the Sword of Chaos lying next to the troll's burnt corpse. His eyes shone with the fury of a berserker rage, and Keldorn winced as he heard the fury take Minsc, a shout of rage echoing through the area. Any drow within fifty yards would have heard that… even so, watching as Minsc stomped angrily towards the three remaining enemies, Keldorn knew their foes didn't have a chance.

X X X X X X

"Run! They are almost upon us!" one of the remaining elven soldiers shouted to his companions even as they fled from the undead and living monsters chasing them.

The gaping, empty face of the skeleton warriors behind them, mere feet away, gave out a terrible moan, its spirit hungering for their death. The large blade came up and then dropped, though not in the undead monster's hands. Its arm was gone, blasted off with a Bolt of Glory, hurled from Aerie's hands. The ends of the bone were smoking, even as the hand with the sword lay on the ground, set alight with holy fire as well. Another of the skeletons turned to see the new threat, turning from their pursuit of the elves to attack Jaheira, her spear jammed deep into the rib cage of the creature as she yanked it back and forth, splintering bone with the shaft. She ducked under one mighty swing from the undead monster, released her spear to dodge a second slash, then took hold of the shaft and tore it out, spinning to slam the butt of her spear into the skull of the monster. It fell to pieces, the body of the creature following quickly.

Aerie blurted a warning, shifting her hands toward another undead minion that was charging her, several flaming meteors floating above her small finger tips as she threw them at her foes, each meteor smashing bone and armor. Still, the warning came slightly too late for Jaheira, turning in time to see a stone golem rumble straight at her, grabbing her by one arm as it raised the second limb and brought it down to smash her directly in the plate mail. She slumped with the blow, her plate mail creaking dangerously with each blow, close to ripping apart by the massive strain. Jaheira looked up in a daze, hanging by her arm from the golem's grip. Her spear was still, somehow in her hand, but she couldn't get the leverage necessary to use the shaft to attack, and the tip would do no good against the golem's stone skin. Another blow could kill her-

Aerie's incantations cut in, sweeping over the golem, magic swirling and reforming itself as it took affect- the stone skin began softening, finally reforming itself as pale skin, giving Jaheira the final opportunity she needed. The spearhead slammed into the golem's eye, digging deep as the golem let her go, clutching the spear shaft as it stumbled back and forth, finally collapsing in a heap as Jaheira fell to her knees, exhausted from the close call.

The Avariel was at her side quickly, crouching by the druid as she let her healing magics flow freely, knitting together the broken bones and bruised flesh that the golem had caused. "A Stone to Flesh spell." Jaheira noted with a faint smile, her lips cracked with a trickle of blood running down them. "Very clever."

Aerie stuttered a quick thanks, returning to her work with dogged determination, not resting until Jaheira could stand on her own, even as the sounds of battle erupted around them, the walkways filled with battles of drow and elves. The elven soldiers they'd saved were long gone, already retreating back to Elhan's camp, assuming they'd not been caught by another patrol of drow. Jaheira winced and gestured towards the path leading towards Demin's house. "We cannot afford to fight these battles much longer. We must let Elhan's men do their job, even if it means we abandon some to their fates."

Her words made sense, but Aerie still found herself protesting on the inside. Still, she swallowed her words and simply asked, "All right... which way from here? The drow will be back soon if we don't get moving..."

"Then lead on. I'll follow behind..." Jaheira managed, clutching her side painfully, leaning on her spear heavily as Aerie's eyes widened, shaking her head at Jaheira's words.

"M-me? Jaheira, I don't think I should be leading now, not with you here-"

"Aerie... this is not the time for humility. You've come far in your time with us, but you've always deferred to me- even now, I hear the hesitation in your voice." Jaheira pressed quickly, glancing to her left and right to make sure they weren't taken by surprise. "The fact is, you are more than ready to lead, if need be. Right now, you need to take that role."

Aerie listened... listened to the rasp in Jaheira's voice, her body still badly bruised and beaten from the pounding she'd endured at the hands of the golem. And the words she spoke were true; for all the confidence she'd gained, all the strength and will and purpose she'd found, every time Jaheira spoke, she'd listen. Despite the arguments and challenges they'd faced against each other in the past months, the druid was still her... her mentor, truth be told. She didn't feel ready- but it didn't matter. If Jaheira thought she was ready, if she thought Aerie could handle it... maybe she could. And so, like always, she listened.

"All right." Aerie said, swallowing her fear and steadying her shaking hands. "Let's go."

X X X X X X

"So... got time for a quick question?"

"Not really, but I doubt that'll change your mind, regardless. Go ahead, Im."

"Now don't be like that. It's not like yer fighting Firkraag or someone like that..."

Greywulf rolled his eyes as he spun to the side, his robes whipping behind him, the tail end shearing off at the swing of the rakshasa's scimitar. "No, just a highly cunning race of spellswords. No challenge at all."

Imoen laughed as she released the arrow of lightning she'd been holding in her bow, waiting for a good bead on the enemies they faced. An ambush had taken them by surprise a few platforms down from the Divine court; rakshasa, golems, even a few drow warriors had taken them by surprise. Some would've chosen to run and face their foes on other terms. Greywulf and Imoen weren't most people.

_More enemies just means more targets, right? _Imoen had quipped right before the battle had begun in earnest. Small pieces of golem remained littered around the platform, marring the green and cream colored patterns that covered the walkways and their supports. The drow had been killed as well; currently, they were down to three rakshasa and a limping stone golem, a chunk of its left leg having been blown out by an Arrow of Detonation that Imoen had used to dispatch the drow warriors.

"This isn't a game, you know." Greywulf managed as he dodged away from the rakshasa's pursuit, dropping to a crouch where he swung his quarterstaff, trying to take out the creature's legs. The rakshasa flailed its arms as it fell, hitting the ground with a thud as Greywulf stood, swinging the staff he carried into its skull with a crunch of bone breaking.

"Yeah, yeah..." Imoen tsked, tossing her bow to the side as she reared back and thrust both hands forward with a chant of incantations. Green fog hissed and spat from her palms, enveloping the area where the rakshasa and the golems stood; their resistances to magic helped them, but the effects of the acidic fog were evident as they stumbled out of the magical attack, eyes burning with pain and anger. The golem's edges were charred and melting, the construct barely holding itself together now as it tried to make its way to Greywulf or Imoen. "So. About that question..."

"If you insist." Greywulf sighed, throwing himself in front of the golem to draw its attention from Imoen. A quick set of hand motions and a word of power later, and there stood seven images of Greywulf, each one dodging and flitting around the golem as the construct stumbled in confusion.

The two rakshasa began encircling Imoen, moving to cover her from either side, hoping to prevent her from escaping and keeping both of them in front of her, a gambit that had worked well for the thief-mage thus far. Imoen glanced to either side, then bolted toward one of them, leaping as high as she could manage. Tucking her legs up, she planted her hands on the surprised rakshasa's shoulders, then pushed upward to give her legs enough room to kick off of the monster's back. She came down in a controlled roll, finally ending up on her back and facing the pair of beasts she'd just escaped from. "You and Jaheira... scuttlebutt around the group says there's something more than I seem to remember. Care to comment?"

"For one thing, I still can't believe we're actually having this conversation right now." the half-elf gritted his teeth as he raised his staff high, charging it with magical energy in hopes of an indirect spell finishing off the magic-resistant construct. His blow erupted with the strength of several lightning bolts, crackling and exploding over the arm that he struck. Stone and rock split open, turning to gravel as the left arm of the construct slid from its place, hitting the ground in a cloud of dust and grime. The golem rumbled loudly, swinging its other arm to the newly revealed mage, ignoring the other copies Greywulf had summoned to give himself time for that attack.

He rolled across the platform with the hit, clutching his chest gingerly with the blow. Even at half-strength, the hit had nearly broken his ribs. He struggled back to his feet, glaring at the golem as he tossed towards Imoen, "And for another, I don't really see how it's any of your damn business."

"Well... kinda touchy, are we?" Imoen laughed, still on her back as the rakshasa closed in on her, the one she had kicked running ahead with his weapon upraised. His fury was making him sloppy; looking for another dodge or a spell to counter him, he missed the obvious. Her left hand slid to her belt and unsheathed the short sword she kept at her hip; with his weapon raised, he couldn't bring it down to block in time. She flexed her stomach muscles and jumped back to her feet from lying on her back, using the extra momentum to stab upwards at the same time.

Greywulf glanced to make sure his sister was all right, noting the acrobatic maneuver. She always had been a show off. "Not touchy, Im. Just pointing out how displeased Jaheira would be if I started gossiping to anyone, most certainly including you, about what our relationship may or may not be."

"So there is something there... not like it was hard to see after everything that happened in the Umar Hills, but from the horse's mouth and all, you know." Imoen wrenched her blade free, falling back to the ground and rolling away from the blast of flame that the second rakshasa had summoned to envelop her and his dead companion. She felt the heat lick at her body and clothing, but aside from a few singed hairs, she came away unharmed. "Gotta ask though... why Jaheira? Aside from the fact that she's way too old for you-"

"Old? Just how old do you think she is?" Greywulf stifled the urge to chuckle, mainly because that last blow to his chest was making breathing a chore enough in itself. The golem was lumbering his way, a dozen yards or so away. Enough time to dodge, cast a spell in hopes of it penetrating the magical resistances of the construct... too many options, none of them looking particularly better than the others. He hated fighting golems.

"Well... she and Khalid visited us once or twice when we were growing up, right? Not that I remember, just going off what she told us-" Imoen said before letting out a yelp, narrowly avoiding another Cloudkill, the girl coughing as she stumbled out of the noxious fumes. She looked up through watering eyes to see the final rakshasa charging, hoping to use her weakened state to finish her off. It almost worked... almost. The glinting blade was a blur through the air as it came down for her neck, a speed far too high for the girl to dodge successfully. Just before it would have decapitated her, a Stoneskin contingency spell ignited, enveloping her and sending the attack rebounding off. On top of it all, a Red Fireshield erupted all around her, sending the Rakshasa recoiling in pain from the intense flames. Imoen finally straightened up, breathing in and out once, her lungs finally clear. "All in all... I'd say she's at least thirty-five. Maybe forty."

"You have way too much time on your hands to think about these things, Im. And in the end, I don't really think it matters. I'll be honest with you. I love her." Greywulf tossed out the rejoinder as the golem finally reached him, lowering a shoulder as it charged the final few yards between them. The sorcerer took a breath, steeled himself for the attack- he lowered his posture and thrust his quarterstaff out, bracing one end of it into the platform beneath their feet. The end of the staff glowed with the power Greywulf had been feeding into it during the golem's charge, and as the giant stone body slammed into the end of the staff, it flared and exploded with magic. The golem roared, still pushing itself forward, even as Greywulf felt his muscles trembling under the pressure. The staff began sliding across the floor, moving backwards as Greywulf was forced to retreat with it, even as the area over the golem's chest where the staff was still touching grew darker and blacker as the magic slowly turned it to gravel and dust.

"Pretty strong words there." Imoen noted, striding towards the last rakshasa as it backed away, wary of the thief-mage's power. It began casting, a dispel magic forming in his hands- Imoen activated a spell before he could manage his, sapping the resistances to magic that the rakshasa had built for such battles. Imoen grimaced as she felt the rakshasa's magic take effect, lowering her Fireshield and dropping the Stoneskins that protected her. It'd be a race to finish the last spell...

"In the end... I don't even think about the words." Greywulf grunted, glancing behind him to see how close he was being pushed toward the edge of the platform, spiraling down into the abyss of leaves and branches below. He quietly chanted, pushing more and more of his power into the staff he held, the sizzling and hissing of the stone golem's chest increasing with each ounce of power he exerted. Finally, just before the golem's bulk would have pushed him over the edge, there was an explosion; the staff punched through the golem's chest entirely, sticking out the other end. The golem groaned, and the light in its eyes dimmed. With a final tottering, it tipped over and fell into the abyss, Greywulf's staff sliding out to remain with the sorcerer as he leaned over the edge to watch its descent. "I don't know when it happened, I don't know where or how... I just do. That's enough for me, and I pray it's enough for her."

A sizzle of magic ignited behind him, and Greywulf whirled, immediately fearful that his willingness to indulge Imoen's foolhardy conversation in the midst of battle had backfired- he exhaled in relief as Imoen strode over to him, holding a twitching squirrel in her hands, stroking it with one hand while she kept it from biting her with the other. "Cute little guy, isn't he?"

The half-elf rubbed the bridge of his nose, fighting the headache that threatened to surface. "A polymorph spell. Really, Imoen?"

Imoen chuckled, then dropped the squirrel to the ground, watching as it scurried off down the platforms of the city. She finally turned back to Greywulf, her smile fading to a nod of understanding. "If she makes you happy... then I'm happy for you two as well. I trust you."

He took her by the hand and squeezed once, then motioned for her to follow as the two of them darted back down the paths of Suldenesselar, heading for the Divine Court and the rest of their companions.

"So... you two haven't... y'know, done the deed-"

"You know what? New rule: no talking when fighting. In fact, this entire conversation? We never had it. Helm only knows what would happen if Jaheira found out about this-"

"C'mon, I need to know if I'm going to be an aunt, right?"


	99. Part 3: Sickness of the Soul

_I shouldn't be here._

A shadow flit back and forth amid the few pieces of cover that Suldenesselar's walkways and platforms offered. Most of it was bright and sun-lit, but there were those few and far between points where one could find cover from the drow, golems, and rakshasa that clashed with Elhan's men within the city.

_This doesn't feel... it doesn't feel right._

An explosion rocked the platform where the shadowed figure crouched, rumbling and echoing as another skirmish erupted a few dozen yards behind him. Magical in nature, no doubt. The rakshasa were excellent spellcasters, in addition to their warrior traditions. Dangerous opponents, and not to be trifled with. He'd done well so far, avoiding any and all conflict as he attempted to make his way to the Divine Court.

Not that he was afraid to fight; it wasn't that at all. He simply didn't feel... good. Like something was wrong, deep inside. Solaufein grimaced as he paused for another moment, feeling the emotions within rise and swell. Now was not the time for such weakness... and yet, he could not help himself. What was happening to him? He growled, throwing himself forward again, crouching low as he viewed the next walkway before a platform where he could find cover. It would be a long run, and there would be no way to hide himself if an enemy patrol came upon the area before he'd crossed the pathway. No time for hesitation; he'd already taken much longer than he should have. The others were undoubtedly waiting for him; he pushed caution to the wind and ran.

Was it the drow? Fighting his kindred, was that it? No... no, he'd shed the blood of his dark brethren and it had never given him pause. Aiding the elves? They were the enemies of his people for so long, after all... no. He'd said it before and meant it. Whatever grudges the drow and surface elves bore for each other, he'd have none of it. If not that, then what?

Solaufein cursed; a small contingent of drow soldiers coming around the corner, partially obscured by overgrowth that had crept onto the path of the inlaid walkway, far too close for him to finish crossing and get to cover. One chance, but it would be risky. His hand dipped into his pocket and grasped the stone he kept there; a dimension door opened in front of him and he dived in, feeling the magic permeate his body as he was transported through space and time.

He rolled out of the portal, coming up behind the drow as they stepped onto the platform, marching towards where he had been a few moments ago. He scrambled to leap behind the shards of broken wood and barricades, his heart pounding in trepidation as he finally made cover, knowing that his armor and mad dash must have caused some sort of commotion. No way they wouldn't have heard him, no way at all-

The sound of unsheathing swords and commands in the drow tongue were enough to warn Solaufein; they'd be on him in moments. His hand trembled as he went for his sword; the drow squeezed his eyes tightly and forced himself to calm, moving to a position where he could defend himself. A strobe of pain and light ran through his vision; he fought it, bowing his head with gritted teeth. Battle was upon him, no time for this! He threw himself upward, roaring as he moved to strike the closest of the surprised drow-

Two of the patrol convulsed, their bodies going limp as the sounds of bees hummed through the air. Their backs bore two arrows each, even as the patrol of elves advanced up the platform, shouting the cry of battle as they charged. Solaufein's attack was left unguarded and struck true; his closest adversary was cut from hip to shoulder, falling to pieces under the edge of the Vorpal Sword. From both sides, the enemy never had a chance. Solaufein exhaled deeply, feeling the sword grow heavy in his gauntlets. Never before had he felt such fatigue, and never after one simple skirmish. A vague humming persisted at his ears- he batted at the air, trying to make it go away as he leaned on his blade.

"I asked, are you well?"

The humming resolved itself into the voice of one of the elven warriors, frowning suspiciously as he looked over their one drow ally. Solaufein looked up at his features, the knit brow and the dirty, sweaty locks of hair. He managed a nod, then wordlessly pushed himself onward in the direction of the Divine Court.

The trek was little more than a blur; he felt himself moving forward, but his mind was only half-way there. Not acceptable; fighting like this would get him killed. Get his companions killed, if they were depending on him for support. His feet began to drag, the drow warrior feeling another pulse ripple through his body and soul. He nearly tripped, his white hair drooping over his eyes as he stumbled onward, just about ready to falter completely-

"Solaufein!"

A heightened whisper brought him back to the present for a moment; he looked up to see all six of the others, crouched on a walkway that was parallel with a set of thickened limbs and branches that blocked their view of the adjoining Divine Court. Keldorn met him halfway and led him down to their hidden position, the others acknowledging him with worried looks and grimaces.

"Doesn't look well-"

"...you injured? Aerie, check for-"

"Solaufein, what happened?"

The only voice he could really keep straight in his head was Imoen's; he managed to focus his vision on her, blinking several times as he attempted to stay alert. "I... don't know. Something's wrong. Just need to..."

"Down!" Keldorn commanded, and they all ducked again, peering through the foliage to spy the guard around the Divine Court, and Priestess Demin's house. "Only one, but he carries himself with power and authority. If I had to guess... a drow sorcerer."

"We can't wait. If we cast healing spells, he could see us... Solaufein, I-" Greywulf began, but the drow waved him off, pushing himself backward to prop himself up against the walkway with his sword in one pale hand.

"Do what you must. I shall- shall remain here. I will wait."

"Then we'll have to hit him hard and fast." Keldorn said grimly. "We cannot risk other forces coming and finding Solaufein while we are in the midst of battle."

"He's only one man." Imoen pointed out with an arched eyebrow. "Which means either he's really dumb…"

"Really arrogant…" Greywulf continued.

"Or really powerful." Keldorn finished, bringing one hand down to the hilt of his sword. "Minsc? A battle cry to strike fear in his heart, if you please."

The ranger stood, armor dented and worn, his mammoth size and bulk attracting the attention of their opponent. The drow's eyes widened, obviously taken by surprise; if Minsc's sudden appearance had unnerved him, then the fearsome bellow from Minsc's lungs took what composure he had left. The other five leapt from their hiding spot and charged as one, swift as they covered the ground separating them in moments. Had the sorcerer been completely unprepared, perhaps their strategy might've worked. He didn't have time to cast a full incantation, thanks to Minsc's tactics of intimidation. He didn't need to, though. A simple word of power, and a Contingency spell activated.Only a few yards before Jaheira, even as injured as she was, would have been within striking distance… and everything stopped.

All movement ceased before Greywulf's eyes, and if he were capable of moving his lips he would have been swearing furiously. A Time Stop spell, one more powerful than any he had in his own repertoire. Keldorn had been right; this drow was indeed powerful. Everything before him was a blur of gray shapes and swirls; Greywulf spared a thought for Solaufein as he waited for the inevitable rush of motion to begin in a matter of seconds. No doubt their friend was close enough for the spell to affect him as well-

A roar of magic nearly deafened them as everything resumed its natural course, three spells igniting at the same time. The first was a Sunfire blast, blowing Jaheira, Keldorn and Minsc backward, Jaheira rolling off to the side with several scorch marks on her armor. She had been in front and taken the brunt of the blast; mixed with her prior injuries, she was far slower in getting up than Greywulf would have liked. The others were a little better off, but not by much. The second spell was a blue flash that engulfed the drow, hazing over him with protection. A warning rang in the back of Greywulf's mind as he recognized its effect. It was a Protection from Evil spell; the only reason for the drow to have cast that upon himself was...

The third spell blazed into existence with a fiery chasm opening in midair, hemmed and encircled with the bones and flames of a thousand evil dead and the torments that consumed them. Heat and fire drove all nearby backwards, even as a large clawed hand, spined and drab green in color pulled itself from the pit. The Gate spell summoned forth a Pit Fiend, a demon of ancient malice and power. It was twice as large as Minsc and emanated evil. The creature was four armed and given to a long, slathering mouth with random spikes and protrusions extending from its grotesque body. It almost looked reminiscent of the Slayer; while this monster was bigger, it was a tangle of limbs and waving spines rather than the pure muscled power of the Slayer.

It screeched, a howl of nails on a chalkboard that tore into the hearing of the listeners around. Greywulf winced as he tried to look up from the auditory barrage, his hands trembling as he tried to summon his own power. He completed the spell just in time, the Pit Fiend's first attack headed his way. It rebounded from his Improved Mantle, the beast snarling in irritation. Aerie could barely be heard casting her own Protection from Evil spells; it would give the group some measure of protection, but the main trouble would be the long casting time. Keldorn had ignored the demon completely on his return attack, aiming straight for the drow instead. The mage did not budge from his spot, confident in his own protective magics. Keldorn allowed himself a tight smile as he saw the flash of Imoen's Breach spell impact a moment before he arrived, dropping most of the defenses that the drow so dearly depended on.

The Hallowed Redeemer rebounded, denied by the final protection of Stoneskin that covered the drow, but before he could follow up and dispatch their foe completely, the Pit Fiend clawed across his back and pinned him to the ground, the Dragon Scale just enough to keep him from being crushed. Minsc slashed at the large foot keeping the paladin down, severing it with the mighty Sword of Chaos. Finally the sound of Aerie's Protection Spell ignited, and in one moment, all went silent. The Pit Fiend looked around as though everything was new, and despite glaring straight at Jaheira, he did nothing. He hobbled off to one side, seeking new prey... facing towards where Solaufein had been lying. Greywulf's mouth went dry, wondering if they could bring the beast down before it reached their incapacitated friend, or even before the drow sorcerer dismantled them with his spells- a flash of light and the familiar sight of a dimension door opened where Solaufein had been; the Pit Fiend howled in anger as its prey vanished. A quick smile flashed across Greywulf's face before he turned back to the drow... and quickly turned to horror as the drow completed another spell. A rumble and clap of thunder shook the area before a haze of red overcame them. The sound of hailing missiles became truth when dozens of small meteors came hailing downward, smashing everything it touched.

Greywulf had sprinted to Jaheira's side, summoning a physical shield in the last possible moment; a flaming rock splintered upon it not a half second afterward. Aerie had done the same for Minsc, and Imoen had gone to Keldorn, each pair protected by their magic-using counterpart. They edged forward toward the source of the magic, though trying to move and maintain the shielding at the same time was proving most difficult, even as they watched him begin new magics. A lick of flame scorched Imoen's boot as she inched forward, a small stone landing beside her foot. She shunted away the pain, and kept trying to move, hoping to get the warriors there in time to stop the mage.

Out of nowhere, a shriek of pain echoed in their ears, and for a moment, all looked frantically to see if one of their number had dropped their shields, or if Solaufein's spell had left him in the Meteor Swarm's range. However, the sound was not coming from them; it echoed from across the platform, from the demon that had just been harmed by the Meteor Swarm. The drow screamed in terror, even as the Pit Fiend charged, still being hammered by meteors all the way over to him. He threw the spell he had been summoning, an Abi-Dalzim's Horrid Wilting, into the Pit Fiend's face at point blank range; for a moment the creature stopped, its face and upper body covered in the dehydrating smoke. The drow breathed a sigh of relief visible to all… just before the bloodied and cracked head of the Pit Fiend broke out of the cloud, its jaws collapsing around the drow's waist. With that, the Pit Fiend wavered and collapsed, already nearly broken by the meteors that had rained upon it. Without the drow the spell faded, and soon the six adventurers were left alone once more. Greywulf's head swiveled back and forth, checking for any further injury; the battle had proven far tougher than he had anticipated, and he didn't relish the healing that would have to occur when all was said and done. If not for the mistake of his Meteor Swarm uncloaking him from the Pit Fiend's sight... "Has anyone seen Solaufein? Any sign, anything-"

The sound of a scream echoed from the tallest and grandest house in the Divine Court; the door, already half-broken, splintered off its hinges as a rakshasa flew out, tumbling down the stairs as its head flopped around, turned backwards on its neck.

X X X X X X

Solaufein's groggy eyes could barely focus on the Pit Fiend as it stomped through the platform, swatting and striking out at the six adventurers who tried to both avoid its malice while hunting the drow spellcaster who had brought it forth. A Protection from Evil spell would keep his companions safe, but he was far out of range from the group spell that Aerie would cast. He'd be left to fend for himself... if he could just- his hand, shaking as it moved, began drifting downward to his side, trying to slip into his robes and take hold of the spell stone he kept there.

A blue flash ignited across the platform, and Solaufein's sweat soaked face jolted upward to face the mammoth form of the Pit Fiend, suddenly out of place, unaware of any of the six potential meals that stood around it. Its head arched in the air, the grotesque, sickly green of its flesh stretching as it sniffed once, twice... those glowing red eyes fixed upon him, even as its mouth stretched back in a fearsome howl.

A curse slipped from his lips... Solaufein slid his hand toward the pouch that contained the spell stone, but his shaking limb missed completely- were there two pouches beside one another?- and hit the ground instead as he lay there. The faint vibrations of the Pit Fiend stomping towards him pushed him to try again. He would not die here... not like this. Struck down by some strange ailment... not here, not now. He clenched his eyes closed, waited for the faint spell of dizziness to stop, then thrust his hand straight for where he knew the stone should be. He gripped it's comforting, smooth surface with more relief than he had ever felt before, and muttered the incantation, focusing on the first spot that came to mind as he opened his eyes. A portal of magic opened around him, sucking him in and drawing the drow through time and space once more, shifting his position in a vortex of light as he felt himself vanish from his existence in that one place and time... only to erupt into life someplace entirely differently.

He was inside one of the houses that were centered in the Divine Court, the white and green strobes of color that lined the pillars and panels of the structure little more than a mish-mash of colors to his wavering vision. Three- no four, figures were standing before him. One was shorter than the others- it was an elf, backed against the far end of the room wall. Her face betrayed a hint of shock at his sudden arrival, though it quickly faded to determination and disgust. She hefted a mace in one hand, though the way she kept it close to her body suggested that something was wrong with that arm. "Your allies need aid, it seems. Do not think that the elves of this city will leave my death unavenged, fiends."

Her fiery, if doomed words made Solaufein's mind turn, feeling out the situation and just who was fighting who. The other three figures in the room were rakshasa, having cornered the elven woman as they waited for a moment of weakness to strike. Other bodies littered the floor, proof that the woman had fought long and well before reaching this point of exhaustion. One of the rakshasa turned, hissing in surprise to see Solaufein lying there. She had called him one of their allies. They didn't know... didn't realize he wasn't one of the invaders. He was a drow, and that's all they knew or cared about. Solaufein allowed himself a brief smile, as the rakshasa who had turned to him spat something in its native tongue, bending down and yanking him upward to his feet, obviously hoping that their combined might would be enough to rush the elf and dispatch her without taking casualties. The fact that even wounded, she commanded so much respect from three foes, said volumes about her power and skill. There had to be a way to turn this to his advantage...

Solaufein managed to shout a few words in the drow tongue, pointing toward the door. His words were slurred, weak, and it wasn't an effect he had to force. Still, they got the message. Elves on the way, coming to rescue the priestess- the one who had picked him up moved to open the door and check to see how close their enemies were while the drow and the other two of his brethren guarded the priestess before they attacked in earnest-

Or that was the plan. As soon as the rakshasa opened the half-broken door, Solaufein lunged at him, gripping his head from either side, then twisting with all of his fading strength. A loud, wet snap echoed through the room and the others, both rakshasa and elf, only watched with surprise as the drow kicked the body through the door, sending it tumbling down the stairway and into the platform of the Divine Court. He drew his sword, feeling just how heavy the Vorpal Blade truly was, letting its tip rest toward the ground as he prepared for the rakshasa, confused as they were, to charge and most certainly end his life. A moment of pause as they hissed in fury, raising their scimitars-

Minsc's booming cry echoed loudly as he burst through the broken doorway, lunging with the Sword of Chaos as it impaled the rakshasa on the right; the ranger lifted the blade up, taking the stunned, dying humanoids off his feet as Minsc growled with the effort, then flung it to the right, the rakshasa's limp body sliding off and flying into the wall. The other creature was too stunned, too panicked by the sudden death of two of his comrades to react swiftly. Even if it had only been Minsc in the room to deal with, his chances of survival seemed slim to none. A burst of flame erupted from atop him, engulfing him and reducing him to little more than a charred corpse and ashes. Priestess Demin, her mace now resting on the ground and barely in her limp hand, lowered her good hand, watching her spell expire.

Not a moment later, Minsc's companions reached the top of the stairway, pushing their way through the crumbling doorway and into the room. Demin eyed them all- especially Solaufein- with a great deal of suspicion, though Minsc's actions had probably given her a bit of pause. "I suppose I should thank you for your assistance, strangers... though I must reward the effort you've made with questions. More so, in why you seem to be protecting the drow that lies among your ranks."

Solaufein was leaning against the wall with a grimace on his face, the Vorpal Sword lying on the ground beside him, unable to keep it in his hand any longer. Imoen turned to Solaufein, worry and concern in her eyes. "Sol... you don't look good at all. You need to rest- we have to figure out what's happening to you."

She helped him sit as Greywulf turned to the elven woman, nodding with a hint of respect. "Lady Demin, is it? We don't have a lot of time for introductions, but suffice it to say we're here to help. I imagine you are unaccustomed to outsiders, but with the condition Suldenesselar is in right now, I hope you'll do away with the usual unpleasantries. We all know what's happened here, and how 'the Exile', as you call him, has taken this city. Commander Elhan brought us here, but would not tell us who or what Irenicus and Bodhi were. We need answers, and to make a long story short, that's why we found you. If you have any gratitude for us and our aid, you'll tell us what we need to know. As for Solaufein... he's not like the other drow that have invaded. He's with us, and he's fought just as hard as anyone to take back your city."

Demin narrowed her eyes, attempting to digest everything that had been said by these strangers in the past few moments; their knowledge of the Exile, their friendship with the drow that was on the edge of collapse before her, her salvation from the rakshasa that had menaced her just moments ago... she swallowed, using the wall behind her to brace herself up a bit as she spoke. "I... I do not sense the taint of lies or of the Exile's machinations in your voice. No... I sense that you have been wronged in some way by Irenicus as well. I suppose it is our folly if we felt that his terror would have been isolated."

"He has taken much from all of us." Jaheira warned, hunched over with one hand clutching her stomach. Each breath hurt- far too much battle. Far too much injury, just to get this deep into the city. Aerie moved to Jaheira's side, listening quietly as she began muttering her own spells of healing, trying to patch up the druid's injuries as best she could.

"Then I apologize for the pain he has caused you." Demin sighed, brushing her silver hair from her face as she sank to the ground, her robes dirty with dust and blood as she finally allowed her trembling legs to rest. "You speak as ones who know much of Irenicus and Bodhi. It has been some time since we spoke to anyone, including each other, of the crimes that these two committed. I begin to feel it was a mistake to keep this amongst us exclusively. The consequences have been far reaching and have proven especially difficult to dispel."

"Elhan has been particularly... vexing." Keldorn chose his words carefully. His red armor was now a dirty brown with the amount of dust and grime that had covered him since their battle to reach Demin had commenced. "He refused to tell us what this was all about, citing that either you or Ellesime herself should be the one to speak of this."

"I am not so concerned with the shame of our people over Irenicus and Bodhi. What good is our silence if the city is crushed because we would not seek help?" Demin managed a slight smile. "You are... none of you, fully members of Suldenesselar's citizenry. You do not know the pride, the traditions and the longevity of the high elves. To us, a century is nothing more than a day. Our shames and our secrets are kept for millennia. Hopefully you will come to understand; the Exiles were not always as you know them now. They once had names that I would have been proud to speak, and were as worthy as any other of praise."

Glances of disbelief were exchanged amongst the six of them; Imoen rolled her eyes and said, "You have got to be kidding."

"Then they must have fallen far from that lofty perch. I see no trace of worth in them now." Greywulf said stonily.

"Certainly you are entitled to your misgivings. You would not be here if you were not driven by powerful emotions, and the Exile is good at provoking a reaction. He has garnered the strongest of reactions from we, his own people, for he wronged us greater than any other." Demin said, a faint touch of bitterness to her words. "He is a criminal that knows no bounds. Yes, he was elven as we are, but no longer. Queen Ellesime cast him out, for he had proven he was not elven at heart."

"What about that blood-sucking bit-" Imoen abruptly caught herself, then forced a smile and continued, "Bodhi? How was she involved in this?"

"She and he were well known in the elven court of Suldenesselar. He, at least, was a great asset to our kind and kin. He was the greatest of our mages, as skilled as any of elven blood could be without divine assistance. He even had the favor of the Queen… it was not enough. Of the two, the 'blood sucking bitch' was the insatiable one." Demin smiled faintly at Imoen, who blushed just slightly at her rather inappropriate terminology.

"She was not as regarded, but she held great influence over her 'brother,' and pulled him into her madness. Together they sought more than was possible; they wished the power of the gods, and they were not concerned about the consequences."

"Sounds vaguely familiar." Greywulf murmured, a brief vision of Sarevok in his mind.

"He of the Exiles performed a dark ritual, and committed a grave offense against the greatest symbol of our longevity: the Tree of Life." Demin continued. "He sought to merge his essence with the divine tree, draining it and stealing its energy. He failed, thanks in large part to the combined efforts of Ellesime, Elhan, and myself. Still, there was a price to pay for the rest of us. He disrupted the elven connection to land and nature. There was a great shock that ran through Suldenesselar, and many of our weaker citizens lay near death. That he would endanger so many for he and his sister's selfish goals was one thing, but to threaten the very nature of what makes us who we are was unfathomable."

"Then why was this monster not killed there and then?" Jaheira demanded, Aerie's work having done away with much of her weakness- her stomach and ribs were still weak, but she could stand tall and straight now, her proud and noble posture returned to her without pain. "The punishment would certainly have fit the crime."

"It fell to Ellesime to judge the crime, and despite what you may think, she was indeed harsh." Demin responded, trying to explain. "Having forsaken everything elven, they would be outcast… exiles, so they might learn how precious our ways are."

"I get the distinct feeling their exile did nothing to make them repentant." Keldorn remarked dryly.

"Of spiritually high regard, Ellesime petitioned the gods and a divine curse was placed upon the Exiles; all their connection to the elven spirit was severed. Ellesime thought it a punishment worse than death. Lives no longer than a human's, and their elven spirits banished from the paradise all elvenkind are entitled to. The sister exposed herself to vampirism to try and counteract the divine curse, but gods are not routed so easily. The brother did not risk the same… a better man would have learned to appreciate what he had lost, perhaps learning humility and seeking to make amends. He did not prove to be a 'better man'." Demin said, regret and bitterness entering her soft tones as she stared at the floor between her feet. "It was our greatest mistake... had we killed him then, none of this would be happening right now. By allowing him to live, we have doomed ourselves to the same fate we narrowly prevented last time."

"Irenicus has killed Minsc's witch. He has killed Jaheira's husband, and our friend. He killed our funny friend Yoshimo, and has taken Greywulf's spirit." Minsc growled, listing off each point with a deepening of his usually jovial tone. When Minsc got angry... it was never a funny sight. "We do not care what he was, only where he is now, so that we may have our vengeance."

"Minsc is, ah… pretty close to the mark." Greywulf glanced at the ranger, who was straightening up, folding his arms with a smoldering berserker fury in his eyes. "I... we, all of us, have experienced the hatred that drives Irenicus. It is more powerful than anything I have felt before."

"He was always powerful... but the Exile has found a way to restore himself, has made pacts with our most despised enemies, and has resumed his original plot. He will seek the divine once more." Demin sighed with acceptance. "If he succeeds... it could very well be the end of the high elven race."

"The restoration you speak of has been at Greywulf's cost." Jaheira said angrily. "More than physical harm has been done to this man… much more."

Demin looked at Greywulf, as though studying him for a moment. She stared deep into his eyes, almost until he became slightly uncomfortable with the exchange, when suddenly she pulled back as though slapped. She glanced back at Greywulf this time, unwilling to meet his eyes. "I... I am sorry. You are... different. Whatever Irenicus has done to you, it must have been horrifying... I sense a darkness within you that only the Exile could have left behind. I am still in shock that this happened. So much of Suldenesselar's defenses were away, battling the Drow and their incursion at the temple. We were left weak; one group of exiles helping another, both so full of their petty hatred and jealousy that they would stop at nothing to strike at our hearts. The Exile brought to the city magical constructs and demons, and a… a black dragon, which landed to the northwest. I have been trying to fight, but there are too many."

"We've had some experience with dragons… if it comes down to it, we might be able to help on that front." Greywulf said with a forced smile. "Speaking of help, Elhan said that Ellesime might be able to help us. Where is she?"

"The Exile has seeded the streets with his minions, and confronted Ellesime in the palace. She must have failed in battle against him; I can no longer sense the contact we had maintained before. I have made an attempt to enter to find out and face the Exile if necessary, but it is sealed." Demin shook her head, worry evident in her face for the Queen of the elves. "Whether you search for the Queen or seek the Exile for reasons of your own, you will have to get into the palace and also deal with the monsters in the streets. And I believe there is a way to do both at the same time, though it will not be easy. No, we have seen to it that it will not be easy."

"O-of course we'll help!" affirmed Aerie with an earnest nod. "I can feel the Tree of Life calling out in pain-"

"Your elven heritage, while different from ours, gives you a bond with the Tree as well. Be thankful you do not feel the brunt as our people do." Demin said quietly.

Her words sparked an idea in Imoen; the thief-mage turned to Demin with a frown, gesturing towards Solaufein. "What about him? The drow were once your people, right? I mean, directly related to the citizens of Suldenesselar. Maybe... maybe something about returning is causing this to happen to Solaufein..."

Demin frowned, slightly uncomfortable as she pushed herself up, approaching the drow warrior and kneeling beside his half-conscious form. "Perhaps... yes. Yes, I feel it within him. The resonance of the Tree's pain, of Suldenesselar's destruction... it is pushing at his spirit as it would a surface elf. Unused to the spirit, the power of the Tree... it is destroying him so much easier than it does any of the rest of us."

"Then why aren't the rest of the drow in this place suffering like him?" Aerie frowned. "Surely there must be more to it..."

"He is not like the others." Demin shook her head, placing one of her porcelain-smooth hands over his forehead as she gazed into his spirit. "His heart has not been hardened, stiffened and covered with hatred like the others. He allows the spirit of elvenkind access to his heart. In this one instance, it has proven to be a weakness. I will do what I can to help him, but he will not be well- none of us will be well until the sacrilege he commits against the Tree of Life has ceased."

"Then it's all the more important that we stop Irenicus now." Greywulf said firmly, looking at Demin urgently. "Please, what do we have to do?"

"The temple is dedicated to Rillifane Rallathil. He can summon the spirit defenders of the forest to protect us… and he has the power to break the seal on the palace." Demin said, looking up from Solaufein's prone form. "The Leaflord must be awakened, his avatar summoned, in order for the spirits to come. The Exile's creatures have desecrated the temple and stolen the artifacts I need. Two of the artifacts are lost in the city, held by the Exile's minions, perhaps even the black dragon in the northwest. There are three in all: a talisman of Rillifane, a Golden Cup, and a Moonblade. Go into the temple and place the sacred artifacts in the Bowl of Life that is cupped by the statue of Rillifane in the center. This will summon the avatar to our defense."

"What about the third?" Keldorn asked, tightening the sheath that held the Hallowed Redeemer at his side.

"I had come to this conclusion previously; I was seeking out the artifacts myself when I was ambushed by the forces that eventually drove me back here. I had managed to gather the Talisman of Rillifane, but that was all." Demin said wearily, taking a golden chained talisman from her neck and offering it to them.

"Forgive me, priestess... but I have one more question to ask of you, one more favor." Greywulf interceded, pulling two parchments from his pack as Aerie took the talisman from Demin. "I have spoken with Dianya of Letherel… and she has related to me the tale of Erana."

"So I see." Demin said, a new energy and vitality seeming to enter her eyes as she stood, a steely gaze fixed on the parchments he held. "She must have trusted you indeed, to relinquish her piece of the ritual scroll. May I inquire as to where you came by the other piece?"

"Irenicus… we found it in his former lair in Athkatla." Greywulf answered. "I did not steal the one from Dianya, if that is what you're thinking. She gave it to me. She said that we would need it before the end."

"And she told you we had the final piece?" Demin asked, allowing herself a hint of a smile. "Perhaps... perhaps we have kept the power hidden long enough. If there was ever a time for it to be summoned again, it would be now. Yes, I have the third scroll you seek. They were split up when the Staff was placed in Letherel. One was left under guard of Dianya, who we felt would only falter in her guardianship if all else had fallen as well. One was entrusted to me, the greatest priestess of the elves."

"And the last was entrusted to the greatest wizard of the elves." Keldorn finished with understanding. "Irenicus."

"Yes… when he was exiled, he took the scroll parchment with him. No doubt he hoped to summon its power for himself eventually. With one of the Staffs of the Five, his power would have been unstoppable. As it is, if he is allowed to complete the ritual he prepares now, we will have no chance of defeating him." Demin shook her head in minor disbelief. "Come then. The summoning ritual will take nearly an hour to complete… we must begin immediately."

X X X X X X

The soft leaves and short-meadow like grass made for an easy walk through the glade of Letherel. Nobody ever wore boots or sandals in the dryad glade; thistles and dandelions were unheard of in the protected forest. Dianya walked through the many paths and turns of the wood, humming songs and sounds of magic. The very flowers and plants near her seemed to brighten and grow by the nature magics she weaved by her voice. The dryads she passed by joined in the chorus of light, and soon the whole glade echoed with their powerful yet gentle voices. Dianya could not help but smile and listen, letting the dryads she cared for and protected continue their music without her. The glade had been somewhat quieter, less noisy as of late. Whether that was due to the lack of her elven guard, now off fighting at Suldenesselar, or the sadness that the war they were now involved in quieted the dryads far too often… she did not know, perhaps both. Hearing the children of the forest happy and singing once more gladdened her heart and lessened the burden that weighed upon her more and more in recent days. No matter how far removed her glade was from the outside world… the Time was coming. The time of the prophecies was nearing fruition. She could feel it in the air. Even her gift of foresight began to blur, and what she could make out all ended with the same things. Death. Blood. Destruction. Fires of war and hatred, sweeping through Faerun and Toril, consuming everything in their path… sometimes including Letherel. It was painful to see; enough so that she barely attempted her visions any longer… and yet she could not give it up entirely. Not until she knew what his destiny was.

She turned away from the dryads and slowly made her way back towards the small living quarters constructed in the center of the forest itself. The wooden slatted doors opened quietly and swiftly at a touch, the vines and branches of the house conforming to her needs. She glided to the wash room, letting her silken robes fall to the floor as she lowered herself into the pool of water, quietly bubbling and frothing. The water washed over her, relaxing her as she attempted to center herself, to quiet the thoughts of turmoil and trouble that threatened her so much. The visit of the Bhaalspawn had shaken her more than she let on... despite the good that she felt in his intentions and heart, it was still uncertain what his final destiny would be. He knew of her location, here in Letherel, and what a place of power it was. If his intentions were ever that of malice, the garden would be compromised and abandoned; Erana's spells grew weaker over time and against a force such as him, it would be all but impossible to keep him out if he truly desired to destroy this sanctuary. She sighed, lowering herself further into the water, her long locks of hair floating in the water around her like multiple tendrils of magic. Her eyes closed as her mind focused, the world becoming clearer and yet so much more abstract all at once. Events of past and present pushed at her psyche, trying to force their way in; were she not as skilled, they might succeed and break her altogether. But her will was powerful, and those outside times and places remained at bay, while she searched for the events she sought, the times and places of the future, both near and far…

_Screams of pain, anguish and suffering. Fires raged and consumed her vision, blocking all else. A city, its towers and walls set afire and crumbling swam into her sight. The dead lay inside and outside the city… corpses by the hundreds. Rumblings of thunder rolled overhead, darkening the ruin yet providing no rain for relief. Six figures materialized, gazing at the destruction before them, trying to stop it... to no avail. They disappeared, and Five appeared in their place. The Five were invisible to her, but they were watching… watching the destruction… and laughing…scoffing… mad laughter that threatened the corners of her mind's eye, so powerful, so much darkness…_

Dianya let out a cry, pulling herself back to the present reality. She slumped backward, letting her head fall back in exhaustion. Again… the same vision as before. It was only when her senses had come back to her in some small portion that she realized her head was resting on dry rock. Glancing around she saw steam rolling from the rocky pool she had formed for herself, the water evaporated and gone from the heat of her vision. She exhaled deeply, trying to shake the visions from her head. She stood, stepped out of the pool and sang a quiet melody of command. Two dryads came to her side within seconds, carrying a towel for her. She wrapped herself in it, then walked with them back to her bed and changing room. Even as she prepared to reclothe herself, a jolt of magic ran through the whole house, sending a tingle down her skin even as it left. She looked up and around, the dryads wondering as well. A thought crossed her mind… it must have been. She quickly strode through the main hall of her home until she reached the Staff chamber, the hill where the Staff had been kept for so long, awaiting a summoning ritual that might never come…

She opened the door and looked… to see nothing. The hill was bare, with only the flowers and grass to ornament it. A small hole was at the top, empty for the first time in many years. Dianya closed her eyes and nodded; she had made her choice.

"So be it."


	100. Part 3: One Final Push

_Author's Note: Well dang. Just about two years since the first posting. Regardless, I am still alive- school and other stuff has done a number on my writing schedule. That having been said, I do hope this makes up for it. Forward! (I really wanted to give Keldorn some kind of awesome speech before this was all over.)_

"Let. Go."

The voice was threatening, a warning of intense physical harm if the command were ignored. At any other time, it probably would have been a good idea to take the man seriously. He was a drow, after all. He'd seen more combat than most of them. And yet...

Jaheira was holding onto one of Solaufein's arms, draping it over her shoulder while Minsc did the same with his right side. Her glare pressed into him as the drow bit back a curse, trying to keep his balance. "We most certainly will not. You are traveling back to the blockade to Elhan with Demin. There is no discussion."

Greywulf let a smile flicker on his face as he listened to the druid speak. She never lost her strength of will, even in the face of this intimidating warrior. At the insinuation that he leave the party, let the others travel onward without him... his icy glare froze all of them for a few moments, before common sense took hold again. Barely on his feet, barely able to lift the Vorpal Sword. Still he tried to resist them, tried to prove himself okay, able to fight. He snarled and threw Jaheira's arm off, somehow managing to stay up on his own. Keldorn grimaced and moved forward with a hand raised, trying to take him by the shoulder-

Solaufein stiffened as Minsc's mammoth arm wrapped around his neck, tightening like a python as the drow gripped at the limb denying him oxygen- he went limp, Minsc setting him down gently on the floor as the sounds of battle and war continued to echo around them. Greywulf glanced at Keldorn with a hint of amusement, nodding toward the warrior's prone body. "Nice distraction, Keldorn."

"That wasn't my intent and you know it, boy." he said with a hint of mocking disapproval as he glared at Minsc, who simply shrugged as Demin leaned down and, with the use of divine strength from her god, supported him on her shoulder. "I shall see he gets the care he has earned back with Elhan at the Bridge Court. Go with the grace of the Seldarine- we do not have much time. Irenicus has drawn close to his goal; if he finishes, and the Tree is drained- no matter what tool you possess, he will be unstoppable. A god among men."

With that, the six of them bolted from her house, immediately moving onward, new goals in mind. Greywulf spared a glance behind them; Demin would be abandoning her shelter in moments to make for the Bridge Court as well. It should have been a safe enough run, even with Solaufein weighing her down. _Solaufein... sorry, friend. Your part in this fight is over. We'll have a tall one back at the Coronet when this is all over. _

If they survived, Greywulf corrected himself as they continued their stealthy movements, still trying to avoid any encounters with the drow occupying the city until it was absolutely necessary. Irenicus was probably more powerful than ever. He'd defeated Ellesime, presumably, the very Queen of Suldenesselar, and a wizardess of the utmost power. Even if they stopped him before he drained the Tree entirely... he'd be strong. Drunk with power. Of course that was, presumably, what the Staff was for.

"_The rituals have... faded, it seems." Demin exhaled, still trying to catch her breath as she leaned against the wall behind her, the ritual exhausting what reserves of strength that the priestess had recovered after being rescued by the seven adventurers. "It is no longer as powerful as it once was. The magic has faded without use... perhaps we were wrong to keep it hidden for so long. Still... you know the Word of Power. Speak it aloud and your weapon will become the weapon of Erana. Use it to destroy Irenicus. Drain the power of the Tree from him, or all will be lost."_

Summon the guardians of the city to quell the invaders and unseal the palace. Two artifacts. Split up across the city, combined with the one that Demin had given them, all to be brought back to the Temple before the spirits would come to their aid. Why did everything have to be so complicated? Greywulf motioned for them to drop, glancing between the group as they took cover and tried to stay out of sight while they planned their next move, the sorcerer pointing out houses on the map unfurled at their feet. "Okay... I hate to do it again, but we'll get through this faster if we split up. If Demin's information was right... and it better be, since that's all we have to go on right now, then the cup we need is... here. A few houses that way, and the Moonblade is in that clearing... there. Imoen, Jaheira, you're with me. Well get the Moonblade. Keldorn, Aerie, Minsc... go get that chalice and we'll meet back at the Temple. I swear, if we have to collect another damn set of artifacts for some mystical purpose before this is over..."

He left the threat hanging as he waved the two women forward with him. Keldorn grabbed Greywulf by the shoulder, holding him back for a half second, smiling grimly at the sorcerer. "Be careful out there. I don't think Elhan's men have pushed this far into the city... we might be in for a rough go of it."

Greywulf nodded and returned the smile, quickly heading out, though Keldorn's words hadn't gone unheard. He was right... they were all tired, all worn out and running on empty. Even adventurers as experienced and steady as they could only fight continuously for so long. They were coming into their fourth hour of hiding and fighting, moving through the city and skirmishing with drow, rakshasa and demons. As soon as the adrenaline left, he knew all feeling would devolve into a single mass of pain and exhaustion. Imoen and Jaheira were worse off, if that was possible. He hadn't endured injuries as severe as either of them in the battle for Suldenesselar thus far; he only prayed that recovering this Moonblade would prove easier than their other tasks.

X X X X X X

Elhan watched in satisfaction as another group of elven citizens were ushered through his war encampment to safety. The entrance platform had been secured and turned into a safe haven for all the elves of the city that could be rescued. So many had been brought there already; their first aid equipment and medical tents were almost completely filled with the wounded and evacuated. The elven healers he had were working at all times, trying to keep the soldiers who had returned for healing at ready status.

More importantly though, and unbeknownst to the civilians he had brought there, the encampment was also a prime target for the remaining drow and enemy forces in the city. By his scouts' initial reports, the patrols and random battles that had been so rampant earlier were almost gone now, the enemy choosing to regroup from their initial surprise at Elhan's arrival. They were gathering, he had been told, and their obvious target would be this one major base of the returning elves. Their numbers were still large, but the shock value of his arrival had given his forces a bit of an advantage in skirmishes, so he felt that their numbers were close to matching. He had ordered all men to recall back to the platform and prepare for the attack. Even as he watched barricades and defensive heavy weapons being set up, he gazed out over the city from the guard tower he was currently watching from. The palace was just visible from here in the darkness of the night… he frowned, the smoke from several destroyed buildings obscuring his vision. He muttered a curse under his breath at the invaders, then took a deep breath to calm himself.

"Commander! Priestess Demin has arrived; she is alive!" the voice of an excited scout blared across the court, the commander snapping to attention at the news. Never mind the distinct lack of etiquette on the part of the messenger, the simple fact that their most powerful and trusted priestess yet lived was enough to bring a hint of hope back to his heart. He smiled in satisfaction, watching a pair of soldiers escort the woman to his side from a distance... another pair followed behind, carrying with them the form of the drow warrior who had accompanied the mercenaries. He frowned at the sight, but turned back to Demin as she arrived, bowing lightly as he wiped a lock of hair from his face.

"Priestess… it brings me joy to see you safe. For a time I had feared the worst; it appears my concerns were unwarranted."

"I take more joy in the fact that your men have begun the effort to reclaim Suldenesselar." Demin smiled briefly at him before glancing back to the two elves that were still carrying the barely conscious Solaufein. "He needs attention from both myself and our mages. He suffers greatly under the effects of Irenicus' rituals. We must aid him quickly."

Elhan hesitated for a moment, then nodded to his sages and had them follow the drow back to the far end of the encampment, presumably to treat him with their magics and spells, anything to ease the drow's suffering. Demin spoke again, redrawing Elhan's attention. "I must profess however... you might have made an error in placing all of our strength here, in this one encampment. You know that the drow shall not leave this place uncontested for long."

"Believe me, I know." Elhan gave a tight smile. "Reports from our scouts show the drow forces massing near the temple gates. They should be ready to strike us within the hour."

"And you knew this?" Demin asked in surprise. "Yet you leave our whole population here? The entire citizenry of Suldenesselar?"

Elhan turned from Demin, forcing her to follow him as he strode up the stairs of a guard tower set up on either side of the platform, an easy vantage point for both scouts and archers. He glanced behind him to explain his strategy, "The drow will not commit all of their forces unless they believe it is necessary. Unless they believe that there is nothing left to strike at afterwards. If they think they can wipe us out in one stroke, they shall all join the battle."

"But why would you want to draw all of their forces here?" Demin queried with a frown, her smooth features wrinkling as she furrowed her brow. "What reason do you- Ah… I see your mind, Elhan. This has to do with the surfacers who rescued me from my enemies."

"You have met them, I see. I assume you told them what they asked of you? Revealed our shame? No... no, it is not my place to question what you did or did not say. The point is that they are powerful, and we must be able to direct that power towards the salvation of Suldenesselar." Elhan bit out, only a hint of tightness remaining in his voice as he spoke of the outsiders. "They seek the Exile. If we empty the streets of the drow forces, it will give them time and free passage to the palace. Trying to storm the palace as an army would only result in hundreds of casualties, with no guarantee that the Exile would not decimate the rest of us afterwards. The six of them… they must do what an army cannot. We must be willing to give them that opportunity."

"Your tone tries to hide it, but I sense that you place great faith with them, as did I." Demin said a hint of chiding in her voice. "Their leader… I have given him the power, faded as it is, of the Staff of Erana. They are even now attempting to unleash the ancient guardians of this place."

"Perhaps you trust them too much." Elhan growled, obviously struggling to keep his own emotions in check. "They are not our kin. And their leader... this, Greywulf... something is different about him. Surely you sensed it. A simple group of adventurers, no matter how skilled, does not do the things they have accomplished without... help. There is more to them than meets the eye."

"They spoke of killing Bodhi. The cunning one, slain at their hands." Demin arched an eyebrow as she countered Elhan's suspicions. "Believe me, I understand your concerns... I felt the darkness inside Greywulf as well. The Exile took something from him... as strange as it may sound, I pity the Exile. These men and women seem quite intent on claiming blood for whatever wrong he has inflicted upon them."

"Then we had better pray they prove themselves worthy of our trust." Elhan said grimly, leaning out over the railing of the guard tower, his hands clutching the railing, eyes shadowed and troubled underneath his golden helm. "Have you any word of Queen Ellesime yet?"

"Not since their arrival. I believe she has been captured by the Exile… he has entered their palace and sealed it with spells only the guardians can break." Demin sighed.

"Do you think she is dead, then?" Elhan asked, nodding with uneasy acceptance.

"No… he cannot kill her. Not yet. With his elven heritage stripped from him, he cannot bond himself directly with the Tree as he attempted to do before. He must have a new source, a link that will allow him to drain the Tree."

"He will try and use Ellesime for this purpose." Elhan breathed, tightening his fist subconsciously.

"Yes. And it will mean her death, should he succeed. I sense he has drawn far too close. The final rituals will begin soon… if he is not stopped, by this time tomorrow we will all be dead."

X X X X X X

"Another frontal assault, huh? Three of us, two of them… easy money."

"Possibly… but two golems are still more than a lot of people could handle, Imoen."

"It's a good thing we're not 'a lot of people' then, eh?"

"One day you two whelps will get yourselves into trouble and I will not be around to bail you out."

"I hadn't thought you were so keen on leaving me."

"I'm not."

"Okay... can we skip the flirting and all? Getting smashed by the golems would be better."

Imoen ignored the frosty glare from Jaheira and peeked over the pile of rubble that was composing their makeshift cover for the moment, studying the pair of stone golems. They were big, bulky, and luckily quite unimaginative. Striding back and forth across the platform, obviously guarding the single house that was centered at the far edge of the green-leaved floor. They would resume their patrol until the end of time, or until something… interrupted them.

"Hmm. Arrows aren't gonna do much. Neither is magic... so I'm a little handicapped here. You two got any bright ideas?" Imoen tossed out, her voice a low whisper.

Jaheira glanced at Greywulf, analyzing their respective strengths and attacks, how they could go about bringing down the pair of guardians... Imoen was right about their magic resistance proving troublesome for both Greywulf and Imoen. She was the only one who was skilled enough in battle to hold her own against an uninjured golem, but two was pushing it, especially given her injured status. Any direct attacks from their magic would fizzle against their resistance...

An idea formed in her mind, and the druid smiled broadly, creeping closer before handing her spear to a frowning Greywulf. He began to ask what she was up to, but she had already leapt out of cover and further up the path, keeping her lithe body just out of sight from the patrol through the broken piles of railings, stairways, and once fine elven homes. She was seated with her back to the golems, inhaling and exhaling in sequence, her eyes closed as she centered herself and the druidic magics she was preparing to summon... she spun to her feet and began chanting, hands blazing with wild magic that wrapped and pulsed around her hands. The golems spotted her immediately, rumbling forward to engage the intruder with fists reared back and ready to strike. Imoen lurched up from cover and launched an arrow, the missile striking the chest of the golem and shattering on impact. Greywulf did the same, watching with dismay as each Magic Missile dissipated harmlessly off of the golem's stone body.

Still, their attacks worked well enough to distract the golems for a split second... all the extra time Jaheira needed to complete her spell. A chasm of earth opened up below the golem's feet, fire and earth skyrocketing from below. The golems recoiled as the crushing power of the earth engulfed them, falling through the pocket of magic as the Implosion spell applied the pressure of the earth itself onto their bodies. The sounds of rock becoming gravel echoed through the chasm as it slowly closed, leaving nothing behind but dust and gravel. Jaheira lowered her hands with a deep breath, slowly opening her eyes and letting herself relax for a moment. Greywulf appeared beside her, obviously impressed as he admired the results of her work. She tossed him a smirk as he led them on to the now unguarded house, hoping to find the artifact inside that Demin had directed them to-

The door refused to open. Greywulf yanked on it a few times, even as Imoen rolled her eyes. "Well what did you expect? If they're going to go to all the trouble of putting golems outside to guard it, they're probably not going to leave it unlocked."

Imoen chuckled lightly as she dropped to one knee in front of the door. She rolled up her sleeves and with a mock frown of irritation, started working her dexterous magic. The small metal pick slid this way and that, the girl sticking her tongue out of one side of her mouth as she squinted, peering into the locking mechanism... there. She grinned as the door handle turned with a satisfying 'snick', and bowed once to let the other two enter first.

The room was very circular, and very empty. Those were the two impressions that stood out the most upon first entry. A perfect circle, with one single pedestal in the center. A stand had been set for a sword to rest there... but no sword. Greywulf opened his mouth, ready to curse... shimmering forms encircled their group, waving into vision. Three rakshasa, each with scimitars drawn and pointed at their backs. One of them growled a command, unintelligible to their ears.

"A trap…" Jaheira murmured.

"I wouldn't have thought them subtle enough to pull it off." Greywulf replied calmly, raising his hands and dropping his quarterstaff to the ground with a clatter, even as Jaheira did the same with her spear. "Still, no reason to spare us like this unless they want something. Personally, I'm going to go with the logistics of Elhan's war camp."

The rakshasa behind Greywulf hissed in fury, whether it understood common and simply didn't speak it or just through downright hostility, it grabbed the sorcerer by the arm, putting the tip of the scimitar to his throat. He glanced down at the gleaming blade, swallowing gently as his eyes met with the druid and the thief beside him. The other two were moving to take Imoen and Jaheira... he nodded to Jaheira, and then swung into motion.

Never again, they'd sworn, after the bandit attack outside Athkatla. When one of their number was in danger, at knifepoint or targeted by arrows too close to miss, they would not meet the tragedy that had been so narrowly averted. Practiced until it was a reflex, every one of their number had learned exactly how to handle the situation, depending on the placement, angle, and any other number of factors. Granted, no two situations would ever be the same, but for their purposes, the goal was simple. Survive.

Greywulf's one free arm lashed out to slam against the scimitar, pushing it away from his exposed throat. As expected, the rakshasa jammed it backward, attempting to kill him for his impudence. Too close for him to get out of the way- the scimitar sliced neatly into his shoulder, sending a spurt of blood across the floor as Greywulf cried out in pain. Still, he was alive... and that was all they needed to know. In the time it would take for the rakshasa to pull the blade out and finish him off, the other two adventurers were already on the move.

Jaheira spun with her right hand raised to guard position, her metal bracer ringing as it impacted against the blade, sending it off course from her body. A flat-palmed strike to the humanoid's furry nose flattened it, sending it stumbling backwards as blood ran from between its claws, holding the damaged part of its face. Her other hand had already dived for the dagger in her belt, Jaheira pulling it and flinging it at the rakshasa holding Greywulf. The humanoid lurched in surprise, letting Greywulf launch himself off the blade, tumbling to the ground with a trail of blood behind him. He rolled to a stop, clenching his teeth as the world around him wavered and tilted. He raised a hand, already forming the words to a Hold Spell, even as shock from the abrupt injury did its best to make him lose focus... but that's what a wizard was best at. Focus.

X X X X X X

"Food! Irenicus has sent lunch at last." the ground rumbled underfoot as Keldorn stood perfectly still, staring down the creature that towered over him in both size and power. The bold paladin was the only one to be seen, Aerie and Minsc both out of sight, having stayed back at Keldorn's command. His blade was still sheathed, and his hands were at his sides, at least a second from drawing his blade to guard. When fighting a black dragon... a second was too long. Its scales were a black smoke, dark and radiating a sickly kind of feeling. The horns gracing the dragon's head were twisted, protruding from the sides and wrapping back around and forward, their color also a very dark gray. The black dragon was not as powerful as the mighty red drake, but they were more intimidating and their legendary appetites for death and destruction rivaled that of the red wyrm's.

The mighty black wyrm flicked its long reptilian tongue out, bending down a bit closer as though to examine the morsel he was preparing to devour. "Hmph… a bit on the lean side, but it is well enough. I grow tired of this, treasure or no. Nizidramanii'yt is no pathetic soldier to guard duty over a tarnished cup."

Keldorn's mouth twitched, unnoticed by the dragon. He needed to know that the cup was here before the plan could go any further. He only hoped that the others had heard the dragon's words. Not that finding the cup would be easy- behind Nizidramanii'yt lay a pile of gold and jewels that nearly rivaled Firkraag's hoard. The wealth of Suldenesselar, no doubt. Irenicus would have had no use for the gold, but to a dragon... it was a mighty gift, and Irenicus had made good use of the creature's services.

"Perhaps, mighty Nizidramanii'yt... but I did not come here to be devoured." Keldorn called to the dragon, who regarded Keldorn with a hint of curiosity, before leaning down to face him at eye level, a maliciously hungry gaze settling upon him.

"No? I would beg to differ, little man. Why else would one such as you come here? Surely... surely you do not think to challenge me? It is so much more fun when they struggle..." the dragon laughed, a booming, raucous sound. Keldorn did not move, did not run. He still looked upon the dragon's features and gestured toward the pile of gold behind it. "Nay... I come for the cup that you so fastidiously guard. Rather, I 'came' for said treasure, since there is little chance of me retrieving it while you guard over it."

"Hmm..." the dragon regarded Keldorn for a moment, reptilian eyes gleaming with malice as it studied the paladin. "You show more wisdom than most, little morsel. At least you recognize when you face one who is beyond your ken. This, of course, leads us back to where we started. Lunch."

"Perhaps. Perhaps, but I have a question to put to you first, great Nizidramanii'yt." Keldorn remarked, the dragon's claw pausing a moment before taking hold of him. "You said that Irenicus has placed you in charge of guarding this cup. Why? Surely your talents place you higher than a simple watchdog."

"Watch your tongue, little man." Nizidramanii'yt hissed, and for a moment Keldorn thought he had pushed the dragon's pride too far- it leaned back on it's haunches and spoke again, letting a slight tinge of relief flow through the paladin. "You speak the truth. Irenicus wastes my time here, guarding this meaningless vessel. The destruction of this city should have been mine to rule over... instead I find myself sitting here, awaiting the time when the wizard returns."

"Then why do you wait here? Not to say that you would neglect your duties, to be sure..." Keldorn said, adding the last part as something of an afterthought.

"I wait, human, because of the hoard that you so greedily eye." Nizidramanii'yt growled, flicking its tail back and forth as it scattered coins and gold with the motion. "The riches, the entire treasury of Suldenesselar... all mine. Irenicus has purchased my aid and whether he chooses to waste it or not is his business. I shall not be derelict in my duties."

"Nor would I expect such from a beast of your... your majesty, and grandeur." Keldorn said with a hint of a smile, bowing lightly. "Curious, though, yes?"

"Eh?" Nizidramanii'yt leaned forward again, coming to rest on all four claws. "What are you talking about?"

"This cup... you know what it is, yes? Not just some meaningless trinket... no, it is an artifact of great and immense power." Keldorn described, lowering his tone to a whisper, an almost conspiratorial tone. "When gathered with two other artifacts of Suldenesselar... the artifacts I was seeking, you see... they grant great power. Power enough that even Irenicus would fear should it be unleashed."

"I fail to see your point, little man." the black dragon sneered, narrowing its eyes. "Of course the wizard would leave the stewardship of such powerful items to me. Who else could protect them from the foolish elves of the city?"

"Ah... perhaps I misspoke." Keldorn nodded in acquiescence. "Your wisdom speaks the truth. Of course he gave them over to your stewardship. He did give them all to you, didn't he?"

Nizidramanii'yt regarded his hoard for a moment, then swung back to the paladin, a knowing smile on his face. "Irenicus is afraid of you, great Nizidramanii'yt. He feared what power you might gain if all three artifacts were left in your care. Why else split them up? Why else hold back the true nature of these items?"

"Hmm... it is true, the wizard possesses power that might pose a threat to me. He would never intentionally put me into a position of greater power than he." Nizidramanii'yt mused, its eyes flicking back and forth as the wheels turned inside its head. "And yet... you could be lying to me, little man. All of these pretty words, nothing more than a distraction to keep me from crushing you underfoot. What do you say to that?"

Nizidramanii'yt lashed out with a claw, gripping Keldorn as the man struggled to hold back the talon; his armor creaked and moaned with the pressure of withstanding the massive fury of the black dragon, his muscles straining in protest. Keldorn grimaced as he tried to look up into the piercing gaze of the mammoth beast, Nizidramanii'yt growled, acid dripping from it's teeth in horrifying reminder of what the dragon's breath weapon was capable of doing. "What do you take me for, human? Just how stupid do you think Nizidramanii'yt is?"

The paladin glanced back toward the hoard, then looked up at Nizidramanii'yt, a smile crossing his weary features. "Stupid enough to miss an invisible man right behind you."

Nizidramanii'yt frowned in confusion for a moment, sniffing the air- there. Normally detected easily, but in talking to Keldorn, it had neglected to sense the one... no, two invisible people around it.

Keldorn braced himself as Nizidramanii'yt's eyes grew narrow with anger. "You did ask, after all."

"GO FOR THE EYES, BOO!"

Minsc shimmered into view from behind the dragon, the ranger's invisibility fading with the downswing of the Sword of Chaos. It deflected off the rigid angles of the scales, though more than a few cracked on the impact of the enchanted blade. Nizidramanii'yt roared, hurling Keldorn at Minsc to send the pair of men tumbling across the ground. It whirled, seeking out the other little one, still invisible from sight... there. It lunged at the empty space, sending a flurry of coins and gems flying, before bouncing off a being that only now rippled into view. Aerie stood amidst the pile of riches, clutching the cup in one hand, the remnants of an Improved Mantle spell providing her with protection... for the moment. She scrambled away from the dragon, knowing that her protection would only last another few moments-

A burst of acid engulfed her world, searing and sizzling against the magical barrier that kept her safe, sliding off and onto the ground, eating away at the platform beneath her feet. Only a second or so more... the Improved Mantle spell faded, leaving her exposed back to the dragon's mercy. Of course, that was why she had friends. Keldorn swept between her and the dragon, unsheathing the Hallowed Redeemer to bat away a claw swipe that would have bisected him with ease. He lifted the blade high, only pausing to turn his head and yell at the other two. "Run!"

X X X X X X

"How much further?"

"Just a bit more! Two streets down-"

Greywulf's call to Imoen was cut off by the sound of a fireball exploding beside him, showering the sorcerer with red-hot rubble. He raised his cloak just in time, wincing as the searing pieces of wood and stone bounced off his body as he kept running. Jaheira was in front of him, glancing behind to assure herself that he was still with her. Imoen took up the rear, spinning as she ran every few moments, taking pot-shots at the pursuing drow.

They'd escaped the platform with the Moonblade, but ended up running smack into a battle between a superior drow force and a small contingent of Elhan's scouts. Their arrival had allowed the elves the chance to retreat... but in doing so, the attention of their foes was drawn, and with Greywulf's arm still doing so poorly, they were in no condition to fight.

The sound of incantations behind them drew Imoen's attention again; she nocked an arrow as she sprinted and sucked in air greedily, trying desperately to steady her hands- she spun in place and reversed direction, continuing to move backwards as she raised her arrow and took aim.

An arrow whizzed past the drow warrior who was closest to them, instead striking the sorcerer behind him, cutting him off before he could ignite his spell. The stricken drow clutched at the arrow embedded in his neck, then tottered to the ground, trampled by his fellow warriors in their quest for the blood of these surfacers. Greywulf allowed himself a quick look at the thief-mage as she spun again, returning to her full-fledged sprint. She was faster than him; there was no reason for her to be in the back, dodging and weaving the attacks sent her way. She did it to protect him- he was clutching his arm with one hand while they ran; any strenuous motion of that particular shoulder and the wound would reopen. Jaheira's magics could only do so much on short notice-

The sound of Jaheira cursing grabbed Greywulf's attention as he looked back up to where the druid was leading them. Two rakshasa had blocked off the path that lead into the courtyard of the Temple. They raised scimitars and stepped forward, hissing and snarling a challenge to the approaching threesome. Jaheira clenched her spear tightly; she knew what was left in their bodies, the strength and the effort that both of her companions had left to give. Just one final push. Almost there-

She barreled straight for one of the rakshasa, her lithe body nearly colliding with it as it made a downswing to cleave her head open- the blade sheared off a piece of hair that trailed in her wake, even as she sidestepped and swung her spear like a staff, cracking the shaft across its back. It stumbled forward, right into Greywulf's path. He curved around behind it, lashing out with a boot to send him tumbling to the ground. Finally, Imoen passed by, her short sword swinging downward to sever the head from the body. Like three minds in one body, each one knew how the dance went, what the steps were.

While Greywulf was just passing the first rakshasa she'd hit, Jaheira had already moved to the second. Its blade was already in motion; there was no way she could bring her weapon back in time to parry or use it to dodge. She dropped the weapon entirely, sliding to the ground and under the blade headed her way. The armor she wore helped skid her to a slow stop, green eyes flashing in alarm as the rakshasa followed up, keeping the blade low to minimize her avenues of escape. If the others couldn't get to her in time-

An explosion rocked the ground, followed by an earth-shaking boom as one of the elven houses in the distance collapsed. The sudden attack was enough to draw the rakshasa's attention for a split second- good enough. Jaheira tucked her legs up and kicked out at the monster's ankles; the blows weren't hard enough to shatter bone, but it definitely sent the humanoid back a few feet, enough for Jaheira to regain her footing as it hissed with the loss of position. It glanced behind it; Greywulf was on top of it, one hand engulfed in flame as he reached out to scorch the beast. A whirl of the cloak to disorient Greywulf was enough for it to dodge the attempted spell, and lead it directly into Imoen's path. She came up with her short sword, aiming for a heart thrust. It sidestepped again, this time taking the girl by the elbow and wrist as she lunged, snapping back to make her release the blade and send her tumbling to the ground.

Imoen rolled across the platform, coming up beside Greywulf and Jaheira with a groan. She glanced up, noting that their pursuers had caught up as well. The drow and the rakshasa stood together, facing them outside the Temple of Rillifane. Greywulf glanced at Jaheira... she knew what he was thinking. They could break for the Temple and try to activate the ritual, but with only the Moonblade and the Talisman...

Another explosion, this one so close that it nearly knocked Greywulf off balance. Stones and wood flew through the air from a house nearby, even as the remainder of the structure that still stood began to steam and hiss, melting under what looked like... acid?

The pathway beside the house was filled with smoke and debris... a shattering of wood and Minsc barreled through the blockade, stumbling into the courtyard with a bloodied sword in his hands. Aerie was close behind, holding her stomach gingerly, blood staining her robes from numerous cuts along her arms and body. One of the drow snarled a command and raised his crossbow to strike at the newcomers; Keldorn blew through the smoke filled alleyway, hitting the ground as soon as he did. It was just in time- the whole alley collapsed as the mammoth bulk of Nizidramanii'yt exploded into the courtyard, sending rocks the size of Keldorn's head flying through the space he had been occupying just moments before.

The drow who had targeted Aerie raised a hand briefly, guarding himself from the blast- the moment of hesitation was enough. The moment he returned to sighting in upon the elf cleric, it was too late. Minsc was upon him, and the last thing he saw before everything went dark was the blur of the Sword of Chaos rushing down towards his head. Minsc kicked the body from his blade, brought the sword down to parry another attack from the crowd of drow, shouldering into the rakshasa and sending the whole group of them to the ground. Nizidramanii'yt clawed at Keldorn's legs, pulling him toward the dragon's maw. Keldorn flailed for a moment as he slid across the ground, before finally getting a grip on the Hallowed Redeemer and slashing at the beast's claw.

"Into the Temple!" Greywulf roared, raising his good hand as he intoned the familiar words of magic. Lightning and sparks danced at his fingertips, reaching out to brush the dragon and dance over its scales.

Minsc leapt from the pile of bodies he had been struggling in, narrowly avoiding a blade that might've taken his head off a second later. He dipped by Aerie, grabbing her by the waist and pulling her with him as he broke for the Temple's double doors, Jaheira holding them open with her body as she leveled her spear at the enemies all around. Imoen launched one final arrow, and then spun inside the doors; Greywulf held his spell long enough for Keldorn to put a bit of distance between himself and Nizidramanii'yt, and then vaulted in, Keldorn a half-second behind him. Jaheira slid inside a moment before crossbow bolts struck and splintered off the door.

It was surprisingly small considering the rest of the grandeur of the city's structures. More of a dome than anything, though the inlay and ornamental design on the roof was golden in color with white and green vine designs running along the walls. The large bowl in the center was surrounded on four points by dryad statues and their trees, worn on the outside but shining like silver and precious stones on the inside. Greywulf motioned toward the bowl desperately, even as he pressed his back against the door alongside Minsc and Jaheira, the three of them trying their best to hold back the pounding of bodies and the attempts of the drow to break in...

The ceiling above them splintered and crashed inwards with a booming roar, Nizidramanii'yt breaking through the roof to strike at its prey. A mammoth claw reached downward to rend them limb from limb; Imoen ran forward, jumping between two talons and launching off the third, dropping the talisman of Rillifane into the bowl as she passed over the bowl, landing hard as she slid across the debris-strewn floor. Aerie raised a hand to deflect pieces of debris as she tried to run forward, just needing to get a bit closer to the bowl... Nizidramanii'yt's claw stopped her cold, the glowing red eyes of the dragon peering inside with hatred at her thievery. She inhaled sharply, then summoned the power of a Bolt of Glory, striking the dragon's claw directly. It reared back for a moment... long enough. The cup joined the talisman, and the only artifact remaining was the Moonblade...

All eyes turned to Jaheira, the sword hanging at her side as she desperately tried to keep their foes from breaking in alongside Minsc and Greywulf; Keldorn dashed to her side, plucking it from its resting place. He took one step, then two... the paladin hurled the blade through the air, spinning and scything through the Temple; the bottom edge of the blade struck the ritual basin, ricocheting backwards, finally clattering to rest alongside the other two artifacts.

For what seemed like an eternity and yet only a second, there was silence. Without warning, orbs of light seemed to pour from the altar, swirling and dancing through the room. They swept out of the gaping hole in the roof, sweeping past the drow, the rakshasa, and the dragon. Every combatant was entranced by the sheer power that radiated from these light orbs- each globe suddenly trembled, then rushed forward as a booming voice echoed through the room, ** NO MORE SHALL THE TEMPLE BE DEFILED! **

Blinding light seared all of their vision, and a rush of wind blew through the courtyard, knocking every man and woman off their feet. The wind whipped the sleeves of Greywulf's robes this way and that, even as he tried to squint through the swirling mass of dirt and rubble- the doors to the temple blew open, revealing dust filled piles of armor where the drow had been. His head craned upward to see what had become of the dragon that had been moments from bringing the whole structure down on their heads- it remained precisely where it had been moments ago, but completely petrified. The stone form of Nizidramanii'yt was lifelike enough for the wounded sorcerer- he turned back toward the center of the Temple where the lights had reappeared, converging in the form of a giant earth elemental, covered in moss and leaves. Its eyes were a bright yellow and the spark of the divine seemed to glow from it.

Finally, the gaze of the giant fell upon them and it spoke, its voice a mixture of rustling leaves and creaking branches. ** THE AVATAR OF THE GREAT OAK STANDS BEFORE YOU, MORTALS. WHAT TRANSPIRES HERE THAT REQUIRES THE ATTENTION OF THE LEAFLORD? **

"The sorcerer, Jon Irenicus-" Greywulf began, but the avatar rumbled loudly at the name, drowning him out.

** AH… THE EXILE HAS RETURNED. HE WHO ONCE WAS OF THE ELVES BUT IS NO LONGER SURVIVES YET. ONCE AGAIN HE COMMITS HIS SACRILEGE AGAINST THE TREE OF LIFE. ** The Leaflord closed his eyes for a moment, stretching out with the divine power to find the Exile. It opened its eyes once more and returned its gaze to the six friends below him. **THE EXILE PROTECTS HIMSELF WITH POWER THAT CORRUPTS NATURE. I CANNOT TOUCH HIM. HE HOLDS SHE WHO IS OF MY BLOOD IMPRISONED WITHIN CORRUPTION. HE USES HER LINK TO THE TREE OF LIFE TO GAIN ITS POWER, WHILE MY CHILDREN FALTER ONE BY ONE. EVEN NOW I CAN FEEL THEIR SPIRITS FADING. **

"The drow- they'll slaughter the elves if they can't defend themselves..." Aerie noted, glancing at the others with worry flashing across her dirtied features.

** THE EXILE SEEKS TO JOIN THE SELDARINE... TO BECOME A GOD, AS HE SOUGHT ONCE BEFORE. **

All present recoiled at the statement, horror in their eyes at such insane ambition. "The Seldarine?" Jaheira muttered in disbelief. "The elven circle of the divine? Corellan Latharian would never allow it! He is mad!"

** YOU ARE CORRECT, MORTAL. ** The avatar rumbled. ** THE FIRST OF THE SELDARINE WOULD NEVER PERMIT IT. THE TREE OF LIFE MUST NOT PERISH, OR OUR CHILDREN WILL SUFFER. THE SPIRITS OF THE TREE WOULD MOVE TO PROTECT OUR CHILDREN, BUT THE POWER THAT THE EXILE DRAINS HAS MADE THIS BODY WEAK. PROTECTING THIS TEMPLE HAS DRAINED THE POWER I POSSESS UPON THIS PLANE. I CANNOT PROTECT MY CHILDREN FROM THESE INVADERS. **

"We don't have the time to fight off all the drow that will be attacking Elhan's war camp. Not if we're going to stop Irenicus before he grows too powerful." Greywulf glanced to the others, before the avatar spoke once more, cutting him off.

** I HAVE A PLAN TO DEFEND MY CHILDREN... YOU MUST DO WHAT I CANNOT AND STOP THE EXILE. HE HAS BLOCKED YOUR PATH, SEALING THE GATES TO THE GREAT PALACE. I SHALL UNSEAL THEM... IT IS DONE. I CAN DO NO MORE. IT IS NOW YOUR TASK TO FULFILL. **

They did not know what to say... faced with the splendor, the power of the avatar of the Leaflord, the six adventurers glanced at each other, knowing in their hearts that the end was finally, slowly, coming upon them. Greywulf began to bow, trying not to re-open the wound on his shoulder- his eyes widened as he felt his arm move, devoid of pain and injury. Every man and woman among them had been healed, prepared by the elven gods for their clash with Irenicus.

The avatar noted their surprise with what seemed like satisfaction, then rumbled one last command before disappearing into the ether. ** FINISH THIS. THE INVADERS SHALL BE DEALT WITH. **

X X X X X X

_"Awaken..."_

The man lying prone stirred just slightly, his body refusing to move, despite the commands he was sending.

_"Rise, warrior... the Seldarine call you to battle..."_

Battle? No... no, he could hardly move. He'd tried to fight, tried to keep pushing- no use. The power of the city, the Tree... it was overwhelming. Until Irenicus was stopped, he'd be useless. A fact that aggravated Solaufein to no end. His face contorted in frustration as he lay there, trying desperately to force the dizziness from his head, to move without feeling like his insides were on fire-

_"I shall protect you. Shield you from the effects that so destroy the children of my father. Your goddess calls to you, Solaufein. Will you not answer?"_

His body froze... no. He was hallucinating, hearing things. His body was still crushed by the power of the Tree's pain- Solaufein moved his arms gently, blinking in confusion as he felt his body move at the full strength and dexterity he had felt before arriving at the elven city. He swung out his legs, flexing his arm as he stood from the cot at the elven encampment where he had been lying. It was not possible...

_"You are my instrument, Solaufein. Rise, defend this city from your kin. Only you have the strength. I have heard your prayers, accepted your worship. Do this for me, Solaufein of Ust Natha." _

He saw nobody, could hear no more as the voice inside his head faded away. Still... he knew. He could feel it with every ounce of his being. Eilistraee... the Dark Maiden. She had spoken to him, honored his fervent worship, his pleas for forgiveness for all the wickedness he'd committed in the Underdark. The drow felt energy flow through his body, vitality seep through his pores. She had given him new life, and new purpose. Whatever she commanded of him... he could do no other.

He stepped out of the tent where he had been laid, eyes narrowing to see the bodies of the elven survivors littered throughout the platform in the starlight. Clutching at their heads and hearts, writhing in pain. He felt a hand grab at his ankle, causing him to recoil in shock, whipping the Vorpal Sword from its sheath- Priestess Demin lay at his feet, her eyes bloodshot and her hands trembling as she tried to reach out to Solaufein.

"The r-rituals have almost been completed…" Demin whispered, her voice barely audible. "Irenicus- he has nearly killed... nearly killed the Tree."

A blur of motion caught Solaufein from behind, the drow spinning to see Elhan stumbling towards him, barely managing to stay on his feet. He was using the Equalizer to keep his balance, impotent fury in his features as he staggered to the warrior. "Until... until the others stop him, we cannot-"

Elhan collapsed, his final words a bare murmur as he succumbed to unconsciousness. Solaufein stared at the two of them for a moment, trying to figure out what to do, how to help-

A shout echoed from the center path leading to their survivor encampment. Solaufein turned to see what the commotion was- the entirety of the drow invading force was pouring down the path, the destruction of Suldenesselar's last survivors foremost on their mind. They would be slaughtered without a struggle, unable to defend themselves... no. Not defenseless.

Solaufein felt the words of Eilistraee, the presence of the goddess guiding his arms and strengthening his body. He closed his eyes and whispered a prayer of thanks. With that, he raised the Vorpal Sword, brought it to guard position, and charged forward.

X X X X X X

"Wait."

Five of the six companions stopped their sprint, the group pausing outside the massive wooden doors of the Palace of Suldenesselar. The Leaflord's power had done the job; no longer sealed, the doors were open and allowing them entry to their foe. Still, Greywulf had paused, slowing before they entered, narrowing his eyes as he stared into the inky blackness that enveloped everything within. The world seemed to fade away as he stared into the darkness- like an echo from a great distance, he could feel it. Sense it.

Like a tidal wave crashing down, the memories, the feelings, the emotions... all of them rushed in on him in a moment, nearly overwhelming him. Greywulf squeezed his eyes shut, fighting away the imminent pain, before finally standing up straight again, turning to face the other five, questioning looks across all of their faces.

"Greywulf? What's-"

"My soul." the sorcerer uttered quietly to his sister. He glanced behind him for a moment, then back to the group as a whole. His face was troubled as he spoke, as though unsure of what he had to say. "I can feel it... I can feel Irenicus, and what he's doing with my soul. He's been feeding off the Tree of Life, and his power... it's so great. So much greater than before. He's almost a god now... and I don't know if we can kill him."

"What are you trying to say?" Aerie asked with concern, leaning in to place one hand on his shoulder.

"I just-" he tore himself away from her, gathering his composure as he tried not to tremble, not to let his voice quiver as he spoke. "You, all of you... you're my family. And I wouldn't forgive myself if any of you didn't make it because I forced you into this. Any of you. Just say the word, and I swear I won't hold it against you."

For a brief moment, there was silence, as though everyone was waiting to see if someone would take the man up on his heart-felt offer. To see if there was one among them who would not follow him into the hell that this final battle was certain to be. Keldorn's voice sounded out, his deep tones filled with compassion and kindness. "The path of honor dictates that I see this through to the end, my friend… no matter what. I would not be able to lift my eyes were I to abandon you while such an evil remains unchecked. I could serve no greater good than by what I do right now."

Minsc stepped forward, and it was not until this moment that Greywulf noticed his hands clenched tightly, his features barely holding back a righteous fury that had surely been building inside of the ranger. "Minsc owes much to the killer of Dynaheir; we stand with you! Nowhere shall I go until the heel of justice has been firmly imprinted once and for all into the evil wizard's backside! Nowhere!"

"If… if it wasn't for all of you, I wouldn't have escaped from Kalah." Aerie shuffled to Minsc's side, her frame so small and unassuming yet her words were filled with the tone of conviction and truth. "I… I wouldn't be out here, and I wouldn't have the chance to face this kind of evil. I'm staying."

"Do you really think, any way in the Nine Hells, that I'd leave you now?" Imoen asked quietly, shaking her head in disbelief. "Do you think Irenicus didn't hurt me too? He experimented on us... kept us locked away, and took our souls like appetizers. We're going to kill him and I'm going to make damn sure he stays dead."

There was only one left; he turned to Jaheira, his eyes studying her features in the moonlight. He had never imagined just how close they would grow, how much they would learn to depend upon each other, to support each other… to love one another. Her eyes met his immediately and she grew pensive, knowing what he was about to ask.

"Jaheira… I-"

"It is not necessary to say anything, Greywulf." she cut him off, raising one hand as she stepped forward to stand close. "I know what comes next; I know what may happen… to either of us."

"Then you know why-" he tried again, but she shook her head, putting one finger on his lips.

"We have been through far too much to let that stop what you must do. For all the pain that losing Khalid brought... I would not give up our years of good works, our years of companionship. Let us regain your soul and make you whole again. And what comes after... comes after." She paused a brief moment, then raised her head and kissed him gently, gazing into his eyes as they gradually disengaged. "I look forward to it… should the gods prove willing."

Greywulf exhaled gently, smiling sadly as he looked to the others. Numbering six, they would attempt to kill a demi-god. Greywulf glanced to Keldorn, the wisest of them. "Have any words of wisdom? Some kind of rally for us before we head into the breach?"

Keldorn bowed his head and spoke as they strode into the Temple, disappearing into darkness.

"You said it best... we are a family. Forged in the fires of battle. Brought together in tragedies and bound together in purpose."

"There is power in the darkness that we face, yes. But we shall overcome that strength. If this is the end... if this is our final hour together, then so be it. But by Torm, we shall not depart from this plane unnoticed. We shall not depart in vain."

"This evil has gone unchecked for far too long. I bid you all, as my brothers and sisters, to stand firm in this hour. To remember why we fight. For family. For friends. For Suldenesselar! For every man and woman that this monster has harmed! For every death, for the blood that rests on his head! All of it shall be avenged before the sun rises this morn!"

"Forward, and fear no evil! Forward, and fear no darkness! If there is any strength to be found in our swords, in our spells, in our hearts, and in our minds- now is the time! Now is the hour! Forward!"


	101. Part 3: Battle Royale: Part Deux

The power of the world- no, that was too small. The power of the heavens. Yes. The power... of gods. That was what he felt. It swelled and warped as it flowed into him, stolen directly from the source of all things elven. Irenicus smiled as he gloried in the exultation of power, in the knowledge that in a few more minutes, just a brief few moments in time... and he would have done it. His revenge would be complete. Not only would he have thwarted the attempts of stopping him, of unjustly stealing the power he deserved, but he would accomplish the goal he had set so many years ago. He would be divine- he would join the Seldarine as a god of unrivaled power. Ellesime would be dead, and he would be infused with the power of the elven circle... and with the powers of Bhaal, as well.

Yes... now that the powers were within him he could see just how accurate his predictions had been. Without a soul of divine nature, he could have never supported this kind of god-like power within his mortal frame. It was incredible, the limitless potential that the Bhaalspawn had within him. Potential to murder, yes- potential to destroy, most definitely. But together, combined with the power of the Tree... he could create life. He could create something from nothing. If it displeased him, he could destroy it at a whim. What was held as beyond the ken of any being outside of the divine realm would finally be his. If that fool Greywulf had only known what kind of power had been lurking within him, what kind of potential... not that it mattered any more.

Greywulf was as good as dead; even if he managed to make it all the way to Suldenesselar, to the very Tree itself... what could the fool do to him? He was a god. His plans could not be stopped now. Every last bit of power that could be taken from the Tree would be his, channeled through the frame of Ellesime. She had been unconscious since their battle in the temple, and he doubted she would ever wake up again. A shame... he would have wanted her to see him with his newfound power, to know the extent of her failure. Bodhi would have found it particularly enjoyable. Bodhi... he shook away the thought of his failure of a sister. Dead, at the hands of Imoen.

It didn't matter. Not anymore. Less power to share in the end, really. He could feel the Tree slowly shriveling, dying as he drained the lifeblood of the elves... each and every elf in the city would be feeling as though his hand was in their breast, ripping their souls from them one by one. Elhan. Demin. Ellesime. He gloried in the influx of power- wait. No... something was wrong. Different. The link... the very stream through which he drew his god-essence was weakening. The parasites he had summoned to maintain the link were dying... one by one, he could feel their presences vanish, obliterated by some unknown force, despite the guardians he had placed to protect them. His eyes widened, unseeing through the blurred blue haze that surrounded him, but he clutched at the rapidly shrinking channel, holding on as best he could- but to no avail. It slipped from him, leaving an open wound in his spirit that would have bled the power he had gained like a sieve, had he allowed it. He struggled desperately to close the open channel within himself, holding his newly gained power within his frame, even as the world around him exploded in white light.

He dropped to his knees, trying to orient himself from the sudden shock of having the Tree ripped from him so violently. His five senses began to return, gradually from being set aside for the rituals. His hearing picked up thudding footfalls that approached, even though when he looked up he still saw nothing but blurs and indistinct shapes. Finally the blindness began to leave, and six figures began forming before him, though they were still unrecognizable.

_"What…who… WHO DARES!" _Irenicus boomed, his voice imbued with the power that he had gained. His eyes glowed with yellow, burning fire, and his entire body was emitting an aura that very nearly overpowered those who had approached.

"We dare, Irenicus! You had to know we couldn't let it end so easily!" That same voice… the mocking tones of the Bhaalspawn… it was impossible. Impossible, and yet there he stood. His vision finally clear, Irenicus' eyes opened wide at the sight of Greywulf, Minsc, Jaheira, Keldorn, Aerie and Imoen all standing before him each one with looks of death and righteous fury adorning their faces.

_"You… you live *yet*?" _Irenicus whispered, scarce believing the infuriating man before him. "_You have less than a fraction of your soul and yet somehow you *continue* to oppose me? I am a GOD, and you are nothing! Prepare for Oblivion!"_

He raised his hand, preparing to sweep them from existence with a mere thought. Greywulf swung his staff- glowing bright white?- and brought it to bear, pointing at Irenicus with a feral grin on his face. "You, a god? Not today!"

A sword of light struck from the staff, impaling Irenicus upon it- he screamed as the channel of energy he had closed when the ritual had been interrupted was forced open once more, bleeding him dry of the power he had attained. The mighty force of the gods was so close... and yet so far away. Irenicus scrambled within himself, trying to keep it all from escaping, but it was like trying to catch water, constantly flowing and ebbing from his grasp.

Greywulf grit his teeth as the convulsions and screams of the demi-god in front of them made him cringe; miniature explosions of power thundered all around the mad mage, and if Irenicus were to collect himself enough to use what remaining essence of the Tree he had drained, it would be enough to kill them all in moments. He could only pray that the Staff would hold out, a bit longer. His hands were numb from trying to hold the Staff in position, from trying to contain the power the Staff was absorbing.

Irenicus sank to his knees, his pupils glowing yellow as he supported himself on his clenched fists, feral rage on his face as he looked at the sorcerer, holding the white staff, a sickly trail of light still flowing from it as it emptied him of everything he had worked for; what kind of tool could have done this? No power on earth should have been sufficient to stop him so quickly, to do what the Bhaalspawn had done- of course. He should have recognized it sooner... _"The Staff of Erana... so clever. I shall take it from your rotting corpse!"_

Irenicus raised one fist, spitting incantations; the Staff trembled, then flew from Greywulf's weakening grasp. Imoen's eyes widened as she grabbed for it as it flew through the air- a second too late. It sank into the Abyss below, lost from sight in the foliage and the depths of the Tree of Life. The adventurers returned their gaze to the drained Irenicus, who stood to his feet, wiping his mouth as the aura around him faded, his powers returned to their mortal shell."You have been successful in your little scheme, insect, but now this ends! I will take great pleasure in eradicating a nuisance such as you. And then I shall… re-establish my link, join with the Tree once again… I shall find a way, I *shall* have the power-"

His enraged shouts and threats were cut off by a quiet voice, somehow overpowering his despite the low and calm tones, firm in their unwavering devotion. "No, Joneleth. You shall not."

Irenicus whirled to see the cage of magic that had held Ellesime captive and unconsciousness gone, the elven queen now standing on her feet and opposing him with a cold glare. "Ellesime...?"

He stumbled backwards a bit, unsure of how he could have miscalculated so badly; she should not have been awake, they should not have gotten this far in the city… he had been a god!

"Yes, it is I, your Queen." Ellesime said coldly, her beautiful features twisted with the pain and fury that she felt upon facing this monster. "Twice now you have attempted this sacrilege and nearly destroyed us all. You will not do this again, Joneleth."

His face contorted in anger as he screamed, "Do not call me that! I lost all right to that name when the Seldarine stripped me of everything that was elven. You should know, Ellesime- it was your petition that did this to me!"

"And what shall I call you instead? 'Irenicus'? 'Shattered One'?" Ellesime asked incredulously. "Yes, it was a terrible punishment. But you violated everything we hold dear. You nearly destroyed us all! And for what? Power? Is that all that you exist for now, Jon?"

"It is all I have now, Ellesime." he said through gritted teeth. "There is nothing else beyond my revenge. Revenge for what you did to me, what the Seldarine did to me!"

"And your revenge has poisoned your heart. The Tree touched you once, long ago. Do you remember nothing of it? Is there nothing in your heart that remembers love? Is there nothing within you that remembers *our* love?" Ellesime whispered, a faint glimmer of anguished hope touching her words and the coldness of her face. "What we once shared before this obsession doomed you?"

Irenicus recoiled at the words, remembering something he had tried for so many years to remember and then to forget, to purge from his mind and harden himself to any weakness that might be created. "I… I do not remember your love, Ellesime. I have tried. I have tried to recreate it, to spark it anew in my memory. But it is gone… a hollow, dead thing. For years, I clung to the memory of it. Then the memory of the memory. And then nothing. The Seldarine took that from me, too. I look upon you and feel nothing. I remember nothing but you turning your back on me, along with all the others. Once my thirst for power was everything, and now I hunger only for revenge. And…I…WILL…HAVE IT!"

Ellesime's eyes closed, her lips drawing a line of acceptance and resolution. She nodded as she looked up at him again, her expression as cold and resolute as ever. "Then I pity you. Would that you had used your stolen mortal years to *earn* your return to this sacred place. I could have loved you anew, as I loved the man you once were. I could have forgiven your crimes, could have looked past the pain you inflicted upon me. But I see nothing of the man you once were… all I see is Irenicus. You are the Shattered One. And all that awaits you now is death."

Irenicus stared at her for a moment longer before fixing a defiant sneer upon her. "We shall see, my former love. We shall see."

The Elven Queen glanced to the six adventurers who had freed her from her prison of horror and death- Greywulf nodded, gesturing with a nod. "Your people need you. We'll handle this."

She paused for a moment as though deciding whether to stay and combat her former love- she finally nodded and vanished in a flash of brilliance, white magic taking her far away from that place of forgotten memories. Irenicus watched the final glimmers of magic and power dissipate from where she had stood, the last traces of her teleportation spell. "So she goes to save Elhan and the others while I am still weak, rousing them to mount an attack. So be it. I shall crush them all, if need be."

He smirked at the six who now faced him, shaking his head slowly. "Have you forgotten? I retain your power yet, Greywulf. Your soul, your taint still courses through me. Come and make your attempt to reclaim it, if you have the courage. I have power enough to deal with you!"

"Your soul is borrowed, and it shall be returned!" spat Jaheira as she leveled her spear at him. "You are a blight upon nature and you shall be destroyed!"

"We're going to take back Greywulf's soul even if we have to rip it out of your chest!" Imoen shouted, pulling her bow string back and aiming it directly at the wizard before her. "You're going to Hell… where you belong!"

The lightning arrow released from the bow string was easily deflected by the power of Irenicus... and so the battle began. Amidst shouts of fury, righteousness and vengeance, Minsc, Keldorn and Jaheira all leapt forward with weapons swinging. Keldorn swung the Hallowed Redeemer no longer, not for this battle- Carsomyr was dodged low, while both Minsc's sword and the spear Jaheira wielded were deflected with protective magics. Irenicus sneered as he came back up, chanting to invoke the powers of Bhaal to combine with his magics; his fist clenched as the words finished, a black fire surrounding his hand. He slammed it into Keldorn's chest, the fire entering the paladin's chest with the blow. Keldorn staggered backward, his eyes wide with the impact. Much more than a simple blow had taken place; Keldorn slumped to one knee, barely able to lean on his Holy Avenger. Greywulf slammed Irenicus backwards with a wave of magic, throwing him aside with his staff. Aerie hurried to Keldorn, the paladin barely breathing as Aerie tried to heal the damage done by the deadly spell.

Minsc looked back at Keldorn's nearly lifeless body and turned back to the rising form of Irenicus, shouting boldly, "Such a vile act will not go unpunished! Minsc will see this paladin's heart avenged! Boo shall burrow through your black little soul!"

He leapt at Irenicus, swinging the Sword of Chaos down atop the mage's head; a blast of fire swept Minsc back, tumbling over the branches and paths behind him. A large, blackened spot was on the chest plate where the spell had ignited; Minsc was slow to rise despite the protection of his armor. Imoen fired numerous arrows at the approaching wizard, Irenicus shrugging them off as they came, each one ricocheting with a wave of the hand.

"Pathetic." he spat.

He began the chants of a spell of intense power, clouds of darkness gathering behind him. The purple lightning of the ultimate corruption of elven magic began crackling within as he summoned the same spell he had used to defeat Ellesime. The vortex began sweeping in anything and everything, dragging even the groggy Keldorn towards it, despite Aerie's efforts to keep him there. Leaves and branches began tearing off the Tree and flying into the dark magic vortex, disintegrating on impact. Irenicus' face took on a feral grin as he saw his victory at hand… the Staff of Erana whipped from the Abyss below and was swept into the vortex of magic, sustaining and holding its integrity within... but only for a moment. It exploded in power and knocked everyone away, the power that had been contained for so long finally released. Irenicus had taken the brunt of the blast- he pushed himself to his feet, shaking his head as he looked up to see Keldorn rising again, Aerie's magics giving him strength to rise.

Jaheira and Minsc had already risen and were rushing him, Greywulf close behind... without warning he rolled off the branch he laid upon, falling through the trees and expanse below. They rushed to look over the edge to see where he had landed; it was a large branch nearly fifty feet below, though he was already at his feet again, leaping from branch to branch as he attempted to lose his pursuers. Minsc leapt down after him, followed closely by Jaheira and Greywulf. Imoen, Keldorn and Aerie all took a different route through the trees, staying in the direction and within sight of the three companions chasing their foe. Greywulf could barely see Irenicus through the tree foliage, still jumping and moving away, putting distance between them quickly. Minsc, teeth gritted in anger and frustration was slowly gaining though, and would soon catch up…

Greywulf's eyes widened as his mind flashed back to the game he and Imoen had played, back on the hillside to the De'Arnise Keep… "Minsc! Stop!"

His words were a half-second too late. An arcane rune flew from nowhere as the image of Irenicus Minsc had been chasing vanished, the rune impacting with an explosion of gold and silver. The spell spread to everything nearby, stunning and paralyzing with such great potency; Minsc tottered for a moment, then fell through the branches below, his arms and legs frozen in time and unable to move as he tumbled through the endless expanse below.

"Minsc!" Aerie's voice cried out, flooded with sorrow from afar as she watched the ranger disappear into the Abyss. Greywulf clenched his fist in pure, unadulterated rage- _Another friend killed by this madman; loyal Minsc… claimed by this monster… no more. Never again. _

Jaheira whirled to the source in surprise, just in time to see Irenicus leap out, catching Jaheira with a blow to the face. She stumbled backward as Irenicus followed up, kicking out with his foot and knocking her from the branch she stood upon. She tumbled downward, bouncing off several smaller branches before coming to rest on a larger one, groaning as she attempted to drag herself up again. Irenicus turned to Greywulf, similarly too late; the mage repaid the favor done to Jaheira by slamming into him with the length of his staff. The impact knocked Irenicus down a number of branches as well, a few higher than Jaheira, but flat on his back as well.

Greywulf leapt down to follow, cloak billowing in the air as he leapt, but Irenicus fired a spell trigger from lying down; a number of flame arrows exploded into Greywulf as he fell, unable to block them. Each one caught Greywulf in sequence, setting him afire as he landed beside the mad wizard. He rolled frantically to extinguish the burning flames he was wreathed in, trying to ignore the searing pain he felt. Relief suddenly flooded through him, a water spell conjured by Aerie, watching from several hundred feet away with the others. Irenicus glanced over at the three combatants, so far away; he smirked and began his arcane movements and words, summoning a dimension door even as Greywulf finally got to his feet again, moving to intercept too late. Aerie's eyes widened as she saw him disappear; she glanced around frantically to find his new location.

Imoen shouted a word of warning even as he materialized behind her, unleashing another arcane symbol into her back. This one splashed a wave of unparallel fear into the elf, screaming even as she tried to escape the wizard. Keldorn, wounded and yet determined, hefted Carsomyr and pointed it at Aerie, whispering the command words inscribed on the blade. It glowed yellow for a moment, then released its dispelling magic. The magic impacted Aerie even as she fled, calming her before she fell from their branch in panic. Irenicus had already begun protective magics at the sight of Keldorn's weapon, summoning both Spell Traps and Mantles to his aid. He narrowly dodged an arrow from Imoen's bow before proceeding with another spell, the incantations worryingly familiar…

"Stop him! Disrupt that spell!" Greywulf's voice echoed through the expanse, even as he struggled to reach them.

Imoen's eyes widened in recognition… it was the Time Stop incantations she was hearing, like the drow wizard from before. She hurriedly began the words to a Breach spell, even as she heard Aerie calling out a Pierce Magic beside her. Keldorn was stumbling towards Irenicus as fast as he could with Carsomyr at guard, but it would still be close…

The two spells ignited within a second of each other; the Breach hit his combat protections, while the Pierce Magic destroyed what Spell protections had been summoned. Finally, Keldorn's sword came down. Irenicus dodged back a split second too late, the tip of the blade cut into him, leaving a long shallow cut down his chest, blood trickling from the wound. His incantations broken, he backed up as his Contingency spell went off, igniting a Red and Blue Fireshield as well as a Stoneskin. The blazes stopped Keldorn for a moment in surprise, but that moment was enough for Irenicus to put distance between them. The sounds of another lengthy incantation put Keldorn at guard as he saw Irenicus finish his spellcraft. A brown skull appeared in his hand, and Keldorn immediately braced himself, knowing what was to come. Jaheira groaned as she finally raised her head, looking up at the branches above as she attempted to rise, her will not letting her give up despite the pain. An explosion of brown smoke went off high above, and a chill went through her, knowing what spell had just been used. She immediately began climbing, hoping to reach her friends in time.

Keldorn sat on his knees, exhausted and covered in the power of the Abi-Dalzim's Horrid Wilting, and yet still unharmed. Irenicus' face was enraged, but once more the Holy Avenger glowed yellow, the magic of Carsomyr protecting him more than either fighter would have thought possible. Irenicus raised his hands in preparation for another attack, only to hear a Power Word spoken from a distance, stunning magic coursing through him. He fought the desire to give in, to surrender… his rage allowed him to push away the attempt at ending his struggles. He turned to glare at Greywulf, dismay evident on his face that his Power Word had been resisted. The wizard leapt from the branch he was on to the one below even as Greywulf climbed to the one above. Irenicus aimed a kick at Greywulf as he tried to bring himself up, the steel toed boot slamming into Greywulf's chin and sending him tumbling once more. The flames still surrounding the wizard scorched as well, and Greywulf looked up from his landing spot with a bloodied nose and scorched hands. He snarled a curse and got to his feet even as Irenicus took off again, moving down the branches to a new target.

Aerie hurled fireballs at the running mage, each one impacting a few feet behind where the wizard was presently. He leapt off the branch to a new plateau, turning to face the incoming attack with an outstretched palm. The spell was absorbed, then redirected, back towards where Imoen and Aerie stood. Both scattered from the impact, but Imoen was not so lucky. Her new path took her into Irenicus' range, stretching out with a Bigby's Crushing Fist. The fist of magic picked her up and began contracting, the sounds of her bones creaking as it squeezed. Greywulf's eyes widened as he saw this from a distance… the visions he had of Imoen being tortured, killed by Irenicus flashed into his mind again… it was happening again. Again…

"No!" he shouted, focusing every ounce of magic he held into one spell, anything to disrupt this magics that were killing his sister- his voice amplified and he channeled his scream into a Greater Shout, the energy screeching through the air and knocking Irenicus of his feet with the impact. The focus disrupted, Imoen fell to the ground, her left arm limp and broken from the severe crushing she had just endured... but alive. Alive, and pissed.

Rage flashed across her features as Irenicus struggled to get up again; she dropped her bow and raised her good arm, shouting incantations and sending a flurry of blue-white lightning bolts at the mage, unaffected by the physical protections he had summoned. Each one struck him, blackening the skin it touched, driving him backwards with each bolt that struck. Finally, he flailed his arms at the edge of the plateau, unable to guard himself any more as he tried to maintain balance… one final bolt of lightning hit him, knocking him off completely. Imoen watched him fall, hoping to see him disappear into the abyss below, but it was not to be so. His arm flailed out and caught one outcropping of a branch fairly close below as he struggled to crawl up and to safety. She glanced around; this was not good.

Irenicus had managed one thing with all his maneuvering and attacks; perhaps it had been his goal all along. The entire party was split up, Imoen the only one within reach of the man. Aerie was still fairly close, but it would take her precious minutes to reach the branch Irenicus was perched upon now. Keldorn's wounds were too great for him to move quickly, it would take him even longer. She could barely spot Greywulf and Jaheira off in the distance, and Minsc… the last she had seen of Minsc was his stunned body falling through the endless expanse below. The thought of his death spurred her on despite the torture that moving her broken arm brought, using her one good arm to follow the wizard down, landing before him just as he managed to climb up fully.

"You are indeed tenacious." Irenicus said through clenched teeth, clutching the burnt area on his chest, the long cut from Carsomyr running straight through it. "No wonder Bodhi displayed such fire with your soul."

"Ready to quit running yet?" Imoen snarled, drawing her short sword with her right hand, stalking toward him as she raised it to strike; her magics were too depleted by the last barrage to strike again so soon.

"Fool." Irenicus barked a laugh as he shouted one more word. What he had resisted from Greywulf proved far more effective here. The Power Word he had uttered had stopped Imoen cold, freezing her to the spot. Irenicus stood, beginning another incantation; a Disintegrate formed in his hands, the wizard unwilling to risk anything less than full annihilation. Imoen could do nothing to protect herself as Irenicus prepared to destroy her, atom by atom- several Magic Missiles blasted into his side, the barrage of small explosions enough to throw off the forming spell.

Aerie smirked as she saw the basic spell impact; if the wizard had been angry before, using such a simple spell to disrupt him was even more infuriating. She was a number of branches away, but within easy range of spells now, only twenty paces separating the two combatants. He seethed with rage, unleashing two wreaths of flame to encircle her to the spot. Aerie glanced at either side, both avenues of escape cut off from her. She turned back to him and uttered the words to a Bolt of Glory, using the power of her god to smite him instead of the arcane arts. He tried to raise a shield, to deflect the power... to no avail. It penetrated his defenses and impaled him with the divine power, sending him to the ground, smoking with the impact of the spell.

Her breath quickened as she saw him drop, but the approaching flames gave her no time to exult. The only place she could escape to was the platform; so far away, where Imoen and Irenicus both lay now. She took a deep breath, then ran as fast as she could, leaping with arms outstretched to catch… just barely. She tumbled over the top of the branch, her right leg slamming into the side instead. Tears welled at the sharp pain she had felt from the impact as she gripped it close, trying to move it. Trembling, she tried to sit up, hoping to regain some footing… a boot stomped on her knee, the sound of bone shattering echoing as her fragile bones were destroyed with the impact. Aerie shrieked with the lancing pain, Irenicus' boot still atop her knee as she lay on the ground. His face was bloody and his chest was bleeding and bruised… but he was still alive. He raised his other foot, aiming at Aerie's face, when a raised shout, a battle cry so familiar and so welcome sounded through to both Aerie and Irenicus.

"YOU WILL NOT TOUCH MY WITCH AGAIN!"

Minsc, covered in cuts, nicks and bruises from his long tumble through the trees, his armor battered and gashed open in places from the impacts he had taken through the fall, was still unwilling to yield. He had not perished after all. Regaining his faculties sometime during the fall, he had grabbed hold of an outcropping tree limb to stop himself. His unyielding strength had allowed him to climb back upwards until he had reached a vantage point where he could see their battlefield; he had witnessed the latest battle between Irenicus and Aerie, and leapt from the higher branch he had climbed to, his sword coming straight down atop Irenicus. The wizard stumbled backwards with the charge of the berserker ranger, stoneskins dropping with each successful hit Minsc landed. Irenicus watched in disbelief as the Rashemani kept coming, ignoring the burns and scorches his Fireshields dealt to him, unwilling to let up. Even as his last Stoneskin fell away, he managed to complete one more spell… a Finger of Death.

The deadly missile of magic struck Minsc square in the chest, his eyes widening as the destructive magics overwhelmed his body, the berserker rage that Minsc had unleashed, the man's sword inches from decapitating the wizard. Minsc fell backward, his breath slowing in gasps as the last remnants of his life force fought desperately against the magic threatening to take him…

Minsc's eyes remained half open, breathing ever so slightly. The magic had stopped his charge, nearly killed him… but the ranger would not be beaten just yet. Irenicus snarled a curse at the stubbornness of the ranger, Minsc still feebly reaching for his fallen sword as Irenicus approached to finish the job. The mage kicked aside the sword and knelt to deliver a finishing blow… before a gauntleted fist slammed into his face, sending him flying backward. Irenicus looked up at the new threat, reeling from the blow as blood gushed from his nose. Keldorn stood there, grim and weary determination on his face as he stared down Irenicus, blood dripping from one of his hands as he still held Carsomyr, somehow.

"Impossible." Irenicus muttered, disbelief in his voice. "Still on their feet. Still fighting. Never giving up."

As if in response, Keldorn swung Carsomyr hard left, driving Irenicus backwards along the branch, further away from the three helpless warriors behind him. "You will not harm another soul ever again, my oath to Torm. I will defend them with my dying breath."

With one mighty swing, the blade Carsomyr scythed through the air and cut the wizard's left hand off. Irenicus howled with the pain, the dispelling magic also dropping the two Fireshields from view. Irenicus screamed another spell out, eyes wide and maddened with the pain and defiance he was facing. A sunfire spell ignited at Keldorn's chest as he charged again, point blank. The blast of fire and energy drove Keldorn back, one hand dragging Carsomyr on the ground as he recoiled, the other at his face, the flare blinding anything he had been able to see. As much as Carsomyr could protect him, its power was still limited. He had taken so many deadly blows from the mage's power; he was feeling the force of each one, now. He dropped to one knee, still clutching his face and eyes as Irenicus approached, sneering in mocking victory. "Defend them, paladin. With your dying breath…"

He raised his one good hand, lightning crackling in his palm. Keldorn finally looked up, his eyes and mind still far too hazy and blurred to do anything about it except watch. A cage of energy was forming over his hand, growing and swelling as it chained within itself, ready to jump from Keldorn to his companions and incinerate them all. His will commanded him to move, but the old paladin's body was simply too worn and beaten to obey.

A flicker of movement washed into Keldorn's vision as he saw someone land far down the path behind Irenicus. He could not see who it was, but it was moving fast, moving directly towards Irenicus. Apparently the wizard saw it too; long before whomever it was could reach him, Irenicus turned and hurled the ball of lightning, the attack taking whoever it was by complete surprise. The lightning impacted, white and black flashes of a figure being immolated inside the blinding energy flashing in Keldorn's horrified vision… until he heard a soft thud of footfalls landing behind him.

Irenicus watched the sight of the figure in the distance being immolated, the bursts of lightning still flashing and surging as he smiled darkly, ignoring the blood that poured from his severed hand, ignoring the pain from his wounds. It had been a shame, almost. That Chain Lightning spell had been meant to finish off the four insects he had incapacitated at one time. Still, it made for a fantastic death knell for that druid…

His eyes narrowed, watching the crouching figure of Jaheira kneeling within the chains of lightning arcing over her. The cage of energy and lightning that continued to play over her was definitely striking her flesh, definitely impacting on her skin… and yet there was no damage. No burns, no charred skeleton, no nothing. It all seemed to be drawn somewhere aside from her… to that small glittering pin that hung around her neck. Jaheira's glare was still fixed on him, those green eyes spelling death even as she crouched there, waiting as the lightning slowly began to subside. He stepped backward unconsciously, only to bump into a figure behind him. He whirled to see the last of them… Greywulf, the Bhaalspawn himself before him.

"Hello Irenicus." his voice took on a gravelly tone, his eyes meeting Irenicus' infuriated gaze. "Try to remember when you die that all of this was your doing; your blood on your own head."

"How-" Irenicus spat in disbelief, glancing back at Jaheira, now standing fully upright despite the wounds she had endured.

He did not answer, only thrust out both palms with a growl. Magic flooded through Greywulf's body, directed to his hands- a fireball ignited at his palms, sending Irenicus' burning form flying down the limb path towards Jaheira, arms flailing as he arced down towards the branch below- he landed with the sickening sound of separated meat and flesh, an intrusion in his chest where none was meant to be. He feebly looked down to see the tip of Jaheira's spear sticking through his chest, blood running down his stomach and the spear shaft. She spat a curse as she kicked him off the weapon, his body still alight with flame as he crumpled to land on his back before her. She bent down and unsheathed her dagger; plunging it into his heart she hissed, "That was for Khalid, you bastard."

"I… *you* killed me… T-this is not… this… is not…" Irenicus whispered, blood beginning to trickle from the side of his mouth.

His head slumped down, finally devoid and empty of life. Jaheira exhaled deeply, looking up as Greywulf approached, followed by Imoen, helping Aerie while Keldorn and Minsc supported each other, every one of them coming to see that it was done… to see that it was finally and truly over.

Jaheira glanced down at her Harper Pin, still glowing with the energy it had absorbed from Irenicus' last spell. Without it… she shook her head, pushing the thought away.

"It… it's finally over, then." Imoen said breathlessly, looking up at Greywulf with questioning in her eyes. "All those terrible things he did to us, and it's finally over. Greywulf, do you feel any different? Have… have you been restored?"

Greywulf looked down at Irenicus' corpse, trying to ascertain if what had been taken had been returned, whether his soul had finally found its way back. Moments passed that took an eternity, and even as he continued to try and feel any touch of his soul, Aerie's voice broke through.

"Greywulf, I can feel- something… something is not right here."

"I sense it too, Greywulf…" Keldorn's words barely registered, sounding like faint echoes to the mage.

He felt a small tugging within himself, a pull that seemed to draw itself toward Irenicus. Before all their eyes, an apparition of light, much akin to the one they had seen leave Bodhi and enter Imoen after the vampire's demise, left the corpse floating above it. Greywulf reached out to the light… and it vanished, plunging downwards, through the trees and out of sight. The gentle tug he had felt suddenly became urgent, drawing him straight to where the mad mage Irenicus had fallen. He could not fight, and as he struggled against the darkness that threatened to overwhelm his vision, he finally understood. He was still connected to his stolen soul, but it was no longer among the living. Released in death, it did not return to him, but began to fall away from the mortal world… taking Greywulf with it.


	102. Part 3: Choosing What Really Matters

Feeling. Heartbeat. Breath. Those things taken for granted so often, so naturally, came back to Greywulf in a flood, rushing through his body without mercy or consideration. The mage's breath came in small, explosive gasps as he awoke from the darkness. The wrenching pain he had felt as the last of his consciousness had fled was also subsiding, though far too slowly for his liking. It had been so intense... like death. Had... had he died?

He managed to open his eyes, trying to look around and get his bearings, take in his surroundings… and he only just barely caught himself from shouting in horror at the sights around. Rocky, jagged cliffs of obsidian and dirty slate encircled the gigantic circular plateau he was upon. Gigantic statues and carvings of demonic figures and faces were all about, one large one in particular at the center of the plateau. The sky above was a sickly greenish pallor, black clouds swirling above. Behind him was a large wall of rock, one giant door closed in the center. Adorning the doorway were five eyes, each one reptilian in nature and colored in neon hues that glowed brightly. They seemed to watch Greywulf with evil malevolence, never blinking in their guard. The sights were enough to clench his stomach in sickness as he shut his eyes, trying to calm himself. This… this was Hell.

He spun in place, looking for any sign of familiarity, any sign of his companions, Irenicus... nothing. His weapons and equipment were with him, and that was all. No... no, he could sense the presence of the Slayer still within him, as unbound and unchallenged as ever. His soul had not been returned, he had died, and his companions had been injured so grievously... what had happened to them? Were they somewhere in Hell, like him? Had they escaped unharmed? He sank to the ground, despair finally taking control, overpowering his will to keep fighting. Greywulf ran a hand through his brown hair, laughing humorlessly. So... this was how it would all end for him. The only entrance or exit to this place was through the stone door behind him, and he sincerely doubted it would simply open to his touch. After everything he had fought for, even to the end, fighting Irenicus at the Tree of Life; he still ended up here.

Greywulf's voice died out as he knelt in silence, trying to ignore the pain and the panic that was gradually rising within him. No way out. Just him and the taint, together forever. No... he couldn't handle this. Whether it was just the strain of so much at once, or something in this place that pressed upon his will, that tried to deaden his spirit and his heart, he couldn't take it. Couldn't handle it alone. He bent over to the ground, his forehead resting on the stone as he squeezed his eyes tight, "I can't... I can't do this alone-"

"Not alone, that's for sure. Of course, that's why ya got me, right?"

A hand dropped on Greywulf's shoulder and he jerked upward in surprise, looking into Imoen's beaming face, the wizard embracing her in both relief and joy. "Looks like somebody missed me." Imoen chuckled as Greywulf released her, his heartbeat slowing from its jackrabbit pace.

"Imoen... you have no idea how glad I am to see you." he sighed, wiping sweat from his face. "I thought I'd be trapped here alone forever. How... how did you get here?"

Imoen turned serious at the question, shrugging with uncertainty. "I don't really know... we were back at the Tree, and I remember everything getting hazy... like we were underwater, maybe? You went down, and for a moment I thought Irenicus had got you or something... but then I heard you calling. Like from a distance or something- I'm as much in the dark as you. Like how my arm is just fine now, 'cause I'm pretty sure Irenicus crushed it in that last fight."

The two glanced down at her arm, any sign of injury or wounds long gone. She flexed it to its fullest before doing a quick cartwheel, landing briskly and shrugging as she walked back to her brother. "So... I guess we're dead, aren't we? But we're children of Bhaal, so shouldn't we be…be gone, then? Just like Sarevok?"

"I didn't think about it much at the time, but the same thing happened to me, back when I was killed by bandits, trying to get money to rescue you." Greywulf murmured, his mind trying to wrap itself around the problem. "I didn't disintegrate like Sarevok either… I don't know why."

"Irenicus said I was different, but…I don't know." Imoen said thoughtfully. "As for you, maybe Jaheira used her resurrection spell too quickly for you to fall apart… but why didn't I follow Bodhi into wherever she went when she died? Unless it's because she was a vampire, with no soul of her own. She just…died, and there was only my own soul left? Or maybe it had something to do with your dying at the Tree of Life. I don't know."

"I guess it's not really important right now…" Greywulf said, glancing towards the door, eyes still guarding as intently as ever. "As much as I hate to put you in this kind of danger- I'm glad you're here with me, Imoen. You saw how well I was handling being here alone."

"I don't think we'll have to worry about that. Look!"

Imoen gestured to a new haze of light, slowly phasing into existence. Four figures strode from the light, each and every companion who had been at his side during the final battle with Irenicus stood before him, though the looks of confusion and uncertainty on their faces spoke to how little they truly knew of their arrival. Keldorn took a step forward, eyes narrowing as he took in their unholy surroundings. "By Torm, what has happened?" he whispered. "I remember a pulling… dying, almost. I might've fought it off... but I remember hearing you call. A plea for help... I followed, only to end up here."

"Your guess is as good as mine." Greywulf said with a weak smile, allowing himself a hint of hope for their escape upon seeing all of his companions at his side again. "I'm not really sure where 'here' is, but I'm betting it's not Suldenesselar. Imoen said something similar about arriving here... I'll take a guess and say if I asked the rest of you how you got here, it'd be much the same?"

A chorus of nods and affirmation came from the others, Jaheira gripping her spear tightly as she shook her head with disbelief. "It…it is not finished, is it? This is death…and your strange power has dragged us here with you. So be it, then. We stand together until the end."

A rush of shame filled him as he realized just what their arrival meant. Escape was as unreachable and enigmatic as before, the only difference was that his friends were trapped in the same Hell as he. Wishing for their arrival, unconsciously or consciously... had that brought them? They said they'd heard him calling for help; was it his fault they were here? He swallowed tightly in regret, raising a hand in apprehension. "Look, I'm sorry about all of this… I would never have let any of you come had I known it would condemn you to my own personal Hell…"

"You make it sound like you could have 'let' us do anything." Imoen snorted, slightly miffed.

"I think you must have taken a blow or two to the head in our last battle if you think we would have turned aside so lightly." Jaheira said, chastisement in her tone.

"Minsc and Boo do not abandon friends. Not alive, not dead!" the ranger shook his head with a grin, slapping Greywulf on the back. "What a tale for the bards to sing when we return to life, eh?"

"The bards can keep their songs, I'll just settle for getting out of here alive." Greywulf countered, though Minsc's words had cheered him slightly, a reminder of how stalwart his friends proved in such uncertain circumstances. He didn't deserve their loyalty, and by the gods, he'd get them out of this place whether he went with them or not. "I'm guessing that door over there is the key to getting out of this place-"

"As long as a Balor doesn't eat us first." Imoen finished, drawing another glare from Jaheira. "I know, I know, not helping."

"What might help is a bit of exploration." Keldorn grunted, snugging up his pack and sheathing Carsomyr. "This place isn't all that big, and there doesn't seem to be any imminent threats to our safety."

"Nope, only giant demonic statues and giant eyes surrounding a foreboding door staring at us." Imoen said cheerfully. "No threats here."

Imoen followed the sighing paladin as they set to explore the area, while Minsc and Aerie did the same. Greywulf and Jaheira examined the main door before them, trying to find some way of opening or moving the otherwise solid door. No amount of force applied could budge the stone portal, and no matter where they moved, the eyes surrounding continued their gaze upon them. Greywulf channeled all the opening spells he could muster into the closed portal, but the only effect was a glowing on the part of the eyes, absorbing the powers he summoned without difficulty. Jaheira tried to strike the eyes; they proved to be as hard as adamantine, and just as unmovable. Greywulf glared at the orbs of malevolence; even without knowing anything else, he was sure that they were the key to the door.

Without warning, a trembling ran through the entire rock plateau, almost knocking everyone off their feet. Around the perimeter of the rocky platform, five different segments of the rock cliffs opened up, crumbling away to reveal pathways, stairs that led downwards into even greater darkness. The six of them quickly converged into a circular defensive formation, watching each new opening in case of an emerging threat. Nothing was forthcoming, and after at what seemed like an eternity, they lowered their guard, apparently satisfied that for the moment they were still safe. Further exploration turned up nothing, and in the end, all that was left were the five stairways and the main door.

"You know what this means." Greywulf warned after they had conferred.

"It means we get to fight new creatures of evil in the dark and spooky stairways, right?" Minsc grinned with excitement.

"Well…" Greywulf said, pausing in thought for a moment, "I suppose that's probably true. When you put it that way, it doesn't sound so bad, does it?"

They chose the first of the stairways by chance, descending the one furthest right. It was not a long flight of stairs, and they soon reached the bottom. It was a simple portal, just another chamber encircled and covered in stone. The scenery was little better, but the overall size of the area was much smaller, perhaps that of the living quarters of a large house. Greywulf frowned as they entered further, moving to the center of the room. He felt some sort of… connection with this place. These rooms were here for a reason; there must be *something* down here…

A hissing vortex of wind burned up before them, swirling rock and dirt together, driving them backward. Even as they backed from the magical disturbance, shadow seemed to enter, then darkness, forming and reforming faces and shapes, settling into one final form of darkness, far too familiar for Greywulf's tastes…

"So we meet again. How fitting that our reunion should be in this place of retribution." the deep, booming voice was exactly as Greywulf had remembered- not that he had ever been given a chance to forget. So many of his fears and dreams had taken this face, using him to make a point or drudge up the emotions and fears he had unleashed within him, but this… something inside Greywulf told him… this was no dream, no vision. This was really him.

"Sarevok!" Imoen cried, raising her bow immediately at the familiar armored figure, still dressed in the same Bhaal armor he had been wearing when they had killed him. Spikes and blades extended in several areas, making his appearance as fearsome as possible. The giant sword he had born, the one Minsc still wore at his side, was once more in his hands. To finish it all, the skull shaped, horned helmet that obscured so much of his face was also still upon his head, letting his glowing golden eyes flash at them from the darkness within.

"It can't be." Jaheira said firmly. "We killed him…"

"But we're supposed to be dead, right?" Greywulf cut in, fixing Sarevok with a firm gaze, refusing to show fear or weakness before his half-brother. "This… this is him."

"You are correct." Sarevok said smugly, the disdain in his voice not affected by the ethereal nature of his body. "It is I. Or an echo, perhaps. My essence joined that of our dead father after you murdered me, after all. But in the end, all the Children of Bhaal end up here. You have finally joined us, to claim your heritage as I had attempted. A pity that you arrive in pieces, weak and pathetic. My death was far more final than yours. You made certain of that, as I recall."

"If you remember that much, then you know I'll burn you down just as quick if you try anything here." Greywulf pointed at the specter, though he held back from his initial desire to attack the murderer. "Since you're here, I'm going to take a wild shot in the dark and say you know exactly what's going on here. More specifically, how we can all get out of this hellhole. Care to start talking, or is this going to end in violence? We all remember just how well that went for you last time..."

"Hah!" Sarevok bellowed in mockery, circling Greywulf slowly, his form flickering and wavering between ethereal and solid. "You have grown in confidence since we last clashed, brother. Still, I think you overestimate your powers here... this is Bhaal's realm, after all, and since you continue to refuse to claim the heritage you are owed, it pushes on your will, weakening your spirit every moment you stay here."

"I can control it, Sarevok." Greywulf challenged through clenched teeth, raising a fist in a little more anger than he had intended.

"Of course you can." Sarevok remarked with alarming calm. "Your essence has not joined with that of our dead Father, and so your blood holds some sway here. You should be able to command an exit for yourself and your followers, should you not?"

The party exchanged glances with one another, finally settling on Greywulf. He grit his teeth, focusing his power within himself, trying to do what Sarevok suggested was within his capability- lightning flashed around Greywulf, leaving him breathless but unharmed. The others recoiled with the flash of power, Sarevok's taunting laugh echoing in the background. "You'll find it much more difficult to leave this place than it was to arrive, brother." he sneered. "You share your soul with another, don't you? The mage, he stole most of your soul, but not all. You are tethered like a helpless calf, dragged into hell after him. Neither of you is truly alive, or truly dead."

"Irenicus?! Do you know where he is, Sarevok? Is he keeping us here?!" Greywulf roared, his fury at the dead warrior's insolence beginning to bubble to the surface; he tried to quell it, but the red was starting to build at the corners of his vision, and he could feel his chest tightening in anger with each passing moment.

"Bah! Have you heard nothing?!" Sarevok snorted. "You have *power* here, but it is limited by the separation of your spirit. While you search for an exit, the mage obstructs you. The Tears of Bhaal are your only choice, should you ever wish to leave this place."

"The Tears of Bhaal?" Aerie echoed, uncertain of what the wraith before them spoke of. "I remember stories that spoke of them..."

"The stories are true, surprisingly enough. A tear fell for every murdered soul, every torment paid by our father, and he kept each one. They can show the path to your wizard…if you gather them all, that is." Sarevok explained with a dark grin, an evil and unpleasant tone beginning to enter his voice. "I have one of the Tears of Bhaal you will need. I will not hand it over to you, however. You do not deserve it."

"Deserve it?" Jaheira growled in disbelief. "You are in no position to make judgments on any of us, Sarevok."

"Oh, but I am." he replied fiercely, the hatred of the wraith evident as he glared at those gathered before him. "I am in an excellent position, fools! Greywulf... you are a pathetic worm, a sniveling little cretin, and had I spitted you on my blade as easily as I did Gorion, our positions would be reversed right now!"

The mere mention of his father's name brought rage to Greywulf; a haze of red covered his vision as the memory of Gorion's death, visions and scenes he had pushed away for so long flooding back to him with Sarevok's mocking tones. "You dare speak of Gorion?!" he growled, steel in his voice.

"Ahhhh, yes. Stoke that infernal wrath of yours. I can feel the anger within you, boiling like a pit of sulfur in the crevices of your heart. You feel it, do you not? The taint that surrounds your soul like a serpent, squeezing it, spreading its venom." Sarevok hissed, raising one clenched fist. "That taint, that wrath, exists in all the Children of Bhaal, but few know how to use it. You have become the Slayer, have you not? The avatar of our dead father. The blackest expression of murder… I see it behind your eyes. Summon your wrath for me. If you can."

"What?!" Imoen turned to Greywulf in disbelief, shaking her head. "Don't listen to him, Greywulf! Whatever he wants, it can't be good-"

"You are the one who brought me here. Your power over this place has summoned forth my essence once again! And why do you think you have done that?" Sarevok interrupted Imoen, his eyes glowing brighter and brighter with the intensity of his wrath. "I can teach you how to use your wrath. You can control the taint, direct it, summon it at will! You can become the Slayer at will and become the weapon of murder that you were meant to be! So think of me! Think of how I gutted your precious Gorion! How I plundered the lives of your Candlekeep!! Summon your rage, stir the depths of your black heart! Summon wrath! Summon wrath and *become* it! Because if you cannot, then you are not worthy of your destiny!"

He raised his sword high, bellowing in the same voice Greywulf had heard in their final battle under Baldur's Gate, "It should have been I! It should have been *I*!! ATTACK ME WORM, IF YOU DARE!"

Greywulf's head bowed; despite everything he had told himself, all the reasons he could tell himself not to… the Slayer was there. He could feel it clawing at his will, scratching and pushing to be released from him. Normally he could push it back, but this… seeing Sarevok again, seeing the murderer of Gorion- his rage welled up and could not be pushed back down. Everything within him screamed to let the beast inside loose; it was so close now… here in his father's realm, the Slayer had the advantage. If he were to unleash its power now, in this place- he might never reclaim his body again.

_**"You want the Slayer, Sarevok?!" **_Greywulf howled, his fists clenching as his eyes turned black, red mist welling up around his body to surround him. _**"Then you'll get it-"**_

He was cut off as a form tackled him to the ground, the sorcerer rolling with his attacker in surprise. He quickly used his Bhaal-borne strength to pin the person below him, raising a fist to strike true, slamming down to destroy the skull of anyone who would dare strike him. His fist stopped inches before it would have crushed Jaheira's skull, the mage recoiling in horror as his eyes faded to their normal brown; he pushed himself off, backing away in fear of what he had nearly done. Jaheira's face flushed with relief at his ability to hold back the hatred, the monster inside that she had fought to help him quell. She could have died had he not reclaimed control in the last moment... she was willing to sacrifice everything for him. There was far too much he had to lose… he had already lost her once. Never again. Not with her.

He looked up from his hunched over position, meeting Sarevok's savage glare with one of his own. "No." His voice was a low growl, and the anger could still be heard through his voice… but it was his own voice. Not the Slayer's. "I refuse to give into the taint; not for myself, and definitely not for you!"

"THEN YOU WERE NEVER WORTHY OF BHAAL'S BLOOD AND I SHALL CRUSH YOU WHERE YOU STAND!!" Sarevok bellowed, rushing forward in fury.

Greywulf pitched his staff forward and swung it to the side, sweeping Sarevok away with powerful magic. Minsc and Keldorn both approached from either side, swords drawn in equal size to Sarevok's blade. Sarevok snarled as he blocked Minsc's downswing, spinning out of the way from Keldorn's attack; there was no dodging the incoming bolt of lightning from Imoen's hands though, it struck him solidly, knocking him backward. Greywulf gritted his teeth as he saw Sarevok slam into Minsc physically, pushing him aside as he parried another blow from Keldorn. If anything, Sarevok was more powerful than ever. Several blasts of fire and lightning struck Sarevok's side, hurled from Aerie and Imoen both, though he shrugged them off with no real effect. Another thing Greywulf had hated about Sarevok… his armor was specifically built to be magic resistant, immune to all but the most powerful of spells.

He shouted a string of incantations, peppering Sarevok with small fiery meteors, each one exploding off the shade's breastplate. He grunted with the impacts, stepping backward as he tried to block with his sword. Jaheira moved up and struck, letting his parry swing with the shaft of the spear as she brought it around to strike the side of Sarevok's helmet. A bladed gauntlet swung out, catching across Jaheira's arm, the blades cutting through her skin and into her arm. She fell backward in pain, stumbling away as Keldorn renewed his assault, trying to find the point of attack that would give him or Minsc a solid hit on him. None was immediately forthcoming; his swordsmanship, even with such a large blade was impressive, deflecting all incoming attacks that could not be dodged or merely shrugged off as glancing blows on the armor.

Even as he punched Minsc in the stomach, kicking him away so that Keldorn could not approach from behind, another burst of magic struck Sarevok, a Prismatic Spray flashing and blinding their foe. He shouted defiantly as the magics continued to swirl about him, joined by thunders and summonings from Aerie's clerical spells. Imoen had abandoned her magic to circle him, firing arrows each time she found an unguarded spot. Still, it was a never-ending struggle. Sarevok was a behemoth, unwilling to give in or allow any weakness. Every time a guard dropped he exploited it, every time an attack came he was on guard. Pushing past a downswing from Minsc's blade, he clutched Keldorn's gauntlets as he came across the side, slamming his helmet into Keldorn's face. The paladin struggled to regain his senses, trying to block the follow-up attack, but Sarevok had a different target in mind. He charged towards Greywulf, pitching himself at unexpected speed. Greywulf backpedaled, a brief flashback of his fight with Tazok coming to mind. No time for a spell that would actually prove effective...

Greywulf brought the staff he carried around in a left handed sweep, swinging back upward and around to bring the opposite end towards Sarevok's head. The double sided attack took the warrior by surprise, at least briefly. Sarevok dodged one attack, shunted the second attack and came in with a bladed wrist to slash Greywulf's arm open; the sorcerer felt his muscle and flesh tear open as he stumbled backward and tried to get some distance between himself and the shade, enough for his allies to bring their own attacks to bear. Sarevok barely turned in time to parry Minsc's attack, but another slam of magic cut across his back, followed by a slash from Carsomyr. He shunted Minsc away and hobbled off to face both of them, glancing behind him at Imoen and Keldorn, both preparing for attack.

A flurry of blows landed from all directions, Sarevok's rage beginning to overtake his skill, making his swings sloppy and avoidable, though the power behind each attack was so much greater. Jaheira's spear shaft came around to hit Sarevok from behind, though a desperate back block turned it aside. Jaheira grunted in victory as she easily flipped the spear around and continued her strike low, the spear striking the back of Sarevok's right knee. He howled in pain as he dropped to one knee, raising his sword desperately to defend himself from the hail of blows that were oncoming. Finally, one mighty strike found its way through, Carsomyr plunging straight into the chest plate of Sarevok's armor, puncturing completely through the back. His scream died quickly… and with a great clatter and tumble of metal, he fell back, slain once more. He gazed up at Greywulf, then chuckled with rasping breath, "Heh… maybe…cough perhaps I was mistaken… about you… _brother_."

His spirit faded, leaving behind nothing but a glittering crystal of stone, swirling patterns of black and white covering the rock. Greywulf bent down and picked it up; the stone was in the shape of a tear.

X X X X X X

"You know how we were talking about where we wanted to go? What place we should visit next, right after Baldur's Gate?" Imoen said, glancing over at Greywulf.

"Yes."

"This really wasn't what I had in mind."

Greywulf had to agree… the next staircase they had descended after taking time to mend and heal wounds was not quite as… monotonous as the first one. Fire, sulfur, and brimstone all pooled in the room they found themselves in now, a change from the plain rock that the other two rooms they had been in were composed of, but not exactly a welcome one. Still, not everything was different. The giant demonic statues were still there... as little consolation as that proved to be. Belches of fire and lava came from the threaded pools and streams that seemed to run through the room. There was a path leading through the fires, a string of rock and stone amidst the fiery pool, the one way through the fires before them. What was at the end of the path could not be certain; smoke engulfed everything beyond a few feet.

Greywulf wiped the sweat from his face, then began to step forward- only to be stopped in his tracks. A jut of fiery lava blasted upward in his path, inches from his face. He stepped backward, immediately raising his staff for protection. The lava pooled over the path, bubbling as though alive… it was so familiar, a scene almost exactly like the one from the Underdark, the giant red-bodied beast rising from the flame and lava.

All weapons were drawn at the sight of the demon before them, a Balor in appearance, though the aura about it suggested something far more…

"Greetingssss… Child of Bhaal." the demon hissed, bowing low before Greywulf, the mage still wary and yet filled with curiosity at this new development.

"I seek the Tears of Bhaal, demon." Greywulf commanded. "Are you going to help us or shall we fight?"

"No… I will not fight you, Child of Bhaal…" the demon said, backing away in submission. "One of the Tearssss doessss lie near thisss very place. It isss in the possession of another, one with sssso much power. Sssso difficult to defeat, it isss. But all thingss, even the most powerful, can be overcome, yess? You have defeated many whossse claims of power were so hollow. You tore them from their thronesss…"

"What has that to do with the Tear?" Greywulf asked, making sure that his staff was still pointed at the demon's head, ready to strike at the first sign of aggression.

"Ahhh, alwaysss you have used the right toolsss to defeat your foesss, yesss? And I am givingsss you, now, the right tool to defeat thisss one. Here it iss...gaze upon the sssword that is named 'Blackrazor.' Mosst powerful, it iss." the Balor unfurled his wings to hold out a long sword, the blade as black as night; gleaming like polished obsidian. "And it iss the tool you needss to defeat the one who holdss the Tear. It isss for you to decide, Child of Bhaal, how to usssse the tool you have. I leavesss you to your choice, then, young Lord of thisss place…"

The Balor vanished, leaving only the sword behind. Greywulf bent down and slowly took hold of the blade, feeling the power thrum behind its surface.

"Greywulf… that blade is evil. I can sense its foulness, the wickedness and malice that embodies that weapon." Keldorn warned. "It is powerful… but I would not see you use it."

The sword almost shook at Keldorn's words, and a hint of black flame began to cover the blade, enticing in the easy power it granted. "You're right…" Greywulf whispered, staring at the flickering black fire. "I can feel it calling to me even now… its power is so immense, drawing me into it…"

"Then let it go!" Jaheira growled, knocking the blade from Greywulf's grip, clattering to the rocky ground. "Do not give it a hold!"

Greywulf shook his head as though waking from a dream, his eyes blinking to ensure himself of his surroundings. "You're right… none of us can use it. Leave it behind… we will face whatever awaits without its evil."

They let the sword lie, the fire within dying as the six left it behind, traveling further into the darkness and smoke beyond. The chamber was much smaller than it looked, and after only a few yards of traveling, the smoke obscuring their vision vanished, revealing a djinni at the end... but this was no ordinary djinni. It towered over them, his eyes glowing yellow as it boomed a reply to their arrival. "I see the ruler of this small plane has come to me. You seek the Tear that I possess? Perhaps my sentence shall be relieved, at long last! Oh, I can only hope."

"You are the creature the demon spoke of, then?" Aerie asked with a frown.

"Indeed, little mortals… and I have been bound here in eternal torment for this precise moment."

"Eternal torment?" Greywulf queried.

"It is a punishment," the djinni sighed, bowing his head low as he shrunk to their size, spinning in place as he settled once more, floating above the ground. "I have been brought to this plane to hold the Tear of Bhaal, and I shall remain for eternity until certain…conditions, are met."

"And what conditions might those be?" Jaheira asked warily. "We will brook no deception, spirit."

"I mean no harm to the Lord of this place, of that you can be sure." the djinni answered, looking at Greywulf squarely. "As for the conditions, I… cannot tell you directly, my Lord. It is a condition of my punishment that I can only tell you of its nature in a riddle. Listen carefully:

_Ye who hold the razor's blade_

_forged of darkest iron_

_quenched by blood and fear,_

_know that ye hold the key_

_to the one who guards_

_Bhaal's sacred murdered tear._

The djinni sighed, then straightened up again, awaiting Greywulf's reply. The wizard thought for a moment, then frowned, glancing back at where they had left the sword. "You're saying… the sword Blackrazor is the key to getting the Tear from you, correct?"

"I cannot answer that, my Lord." the djinni said, shaking his head. "You must come to the conclusion on your own."

"Must we kill this djinni with the sword?" Aerie asked Greywulf, her eyes pleading. "It has done nothing worthy of death… I do not understand!"

"No… I think I do." Greywulf said slowly, realization coming. "These doors that opened… Sarevok's challenge… they're all tests."

"Tests?" Imoen asked.

"Yes… I would have had to kill Sarevok either way… but I chose not to use the taint to do it. I can either kill the djinni with Blackrazor and take the Tear from him forcefully…"

Greywulf looked back up at the large spirit, then asked carefully, "If I were to give you Blackrazor willingly, would you give me the Tear? Would that release you from your punishment?"

The djinni's face erupted into a smile of relief, as he nodded his head. "It would, my Lord."

"Take the sword, then. I have no need of it."

"I am most grateful to you, then, for my release. May the Heavens sing your praises for this charity you have shown me, my Lord!" the djinni bowed with gratitude, then floated through the smoke, the group following behind. He pulled the sword from the ground, smiled at its touch, then vanished into a mist of light. Left in the sword's place was another Tear of Bhaal. Greywulf picked it up and slipped it into his pack and nodded to the others with a tight smile.

"I think we've got Irenicus' number now; let's get this over with."

They left that room with all speed, encouraged at knowing the rules of the twisted game they were being forced to play now. The third staircase lay before them, and they entered with caution yet, descending with weapons still ready. This cavern was very small, though the wall at the back had two large doors at the left and right side of the wall. Nothing else was visible, and so they stood silent, awaiting the next challenge to present itself. They were not disappointed, and as before a Balor formed before them, bowing in submission.

It raised its gruesome maw and spoke, "Know you, Child, that there is a Tear of Bhaal in this place before us… yet there are two paths that lead to it. Two doors, two paths, yet both lead to your goal, yes? You have made many choices on the journey that was your life. Many paths have you taken, and always they have had an effect on those around you… even when that was not your intention. Such is the fate of those born with Destiny- the consequences of the actions they take ripple about them throughout all that is reality. Perhaps the fate of others concerns you little. Perhaps it consumes your soul. That, too, is a choice; an action taken, a ripple set into the pond of reality."

"What does this have to do with the Tear?" Greywulf asked hesitantly, not liking where this conversation was beginning to lead.

Perhaps the demon sensed his fears; it grinned and continued, "The path that you take to the Tear will affect another this day. Another who is innocent of the action you take, and yet affected by it just the same. One of those who travels with you, who orbits your destiny and yet is innocent of your taint… they will do nicely. Remember, Child of Bhaal…a choice must be made, and you must live with the consequences of that choice."

The Balor raised one claw, then snarled a verse of ancient power. Mists swirled about the whole room, obscuring all in their vision. It cleared away in an instant, Greywulf looking about to see what had happened. He saw the consequence immediately; Minsc was no longer among their number. He turned back to the demon in anger, but the Balor had already begun fading, his voice echoing in the chamber. "Go to my left and sacrifice for the innocent. Go to my right and save yourself."

Greywulf exhaled and immediately strode over to the door that had been on the demon's left. Even as he neared, he heard Imoen say, "Greywulf… do you think you should cast some protections, something in case-"

"No… nothing we do will protect us here. This is a sacrifice they want for Minsc's life… I will give it then."

His hand reached out and brushed the door… a blast of flame, searing fire of red and orange intensity and hue jutted from the walls and floor beside Greywulf, consuming him in their midst.

"Greywulf!!" Jaheira shouted, rushing forward, only to find that something prevented her, kept her from moving any closer. She and the others were only able to watch helplessly as the outpouring of flame continued, engulfing the wizard in its grasp. Finally it stopped, revealing the mage, his body smoking and slumped over, but not burned. "It is a magical flame…" Aerie whispered. "It will not burn him, but the pain he must be feeling… it must be unbearable."

He was on one knee, hands planted on the ground. They could hear his grunts, his gasps for breath as he finally, slowly, struggled to his feet, pain evident in his face. He touched the door again, and this time it opened to his touch. Behind it was a short corridor, blocked by a second door. Greywulf turned back to the others, gave a quick yet weak smile, then hobbled down the corridor, unwilling to stop. The second his hand touched the door, blasts of lightning surged through the door, seeking the touch that had disturbed them. They immediately climbed over his body, snapping and hissing as they blasted his body with energy. Still, he pushed forward with a growl and kept his hands on the door, the lightning rumbling and thundering over him as it continued its barrage. It somehow grew in intensity, until all his friends could see were flashes and silhouettes of his body… and all they could hear were screams and cries of pain. Imoen winced and turned away; the shouts she heard were akin to the same cries he had emitted when tortured at Irenicus' hands in Athkatla. She had hoped never to hear her brother in such agony again…

At long last, the lightning ceased, leaving only the body of Greywulf slumped up against the door. It disappeared, letting him fall to the ground there, unmoving. Steam and smoke continued to curl from his body, even as he stirred after seconds of eternity. Relief flooded through Jaheira as she watched him slowly draw himself to his feet once more, though she could not remember the last time she had seen him this weak… her eyes widened as he peered down the corridor he walked. A third door stood before him… surely his body could not survive another barrage of energy like the last two. He would die… A life for a life. He had to know this… then she realized. Of course he knew this. He knew it was Minsc who would be experiencing this if he did not. And it was Minsc's life he was saving… in return for his own. He stood, wobbly before the final door, his frame looking like it was about to collapse. A collective intake of breath could be heard as they watched him steady himself, then stretch out his hand one last time.

With a quiet breeze, the door disappeared, revealing another chamber, one where Minsc stood, paralyzed alongside the demon who nodded to Greywulf as he entered. "A selfless act," said the demon, "From one who willingly shoulders the burden of Destiny and its effect upon others. Your companion is returned to you, Child of Bhaal. The Tear of Bhaal is yours, Child."

Minsc suddenly pitched forward, regaining use of his body. Greywulf stumbled over and caught him, Minsc looking at Greywulf in surprise. "Greywulf? Boo says you look terrible."

He managed a smile through the lines of exhaustion on his face, even as Minsc helped the sorcerer back to the others and back up the stairs to the main platform. His wounds were magical in nature and so there was nothing for Aerie or Jaheira to heal; he tried to stumble towards the next stairwell, but Jaheira blocked his path. He frowned, tried to move past her but she pushed him away.

"Absolutely not. Not while you are still so weak. You need rest before we continue onward."

"We don't know if-"

"We will be safe enough." she retorted. "This place is evil, but you have some mastery over it; we will rest, and then we will escape this place."

"If it makes you feel better, I will stand guard." Keldorn offered. "The important thing is for you... all of you, to recover your strength. I feel that a great battle awaits us soon. Irenicus will meet us one final time... and we will end this once and for all."

"What of you, Keldorn?" Minsc asked with an arched eyebrow. "Boo says that you will need sleep as well-"

"I appreciate your concern, my friend... but believe me when I say that I will be fine." Keldorn nodded to the others, gesturing toward a small concave area where the party could make their bedrolls and have some small measure of cover from one side. "Take your rest. I will take some time to pray and meditate; it will be enough for me."

The others, albeit reluctantly, did as Keldorn said and retreated to the place he had pointed out. Jaheira took Greywulf by the shoulders and led him to a particularly flat spot, helping him remove his pack and getting his roll set up for him. The battered wizard collapsed and was asleep within seconds, his body unwilling to go any further without rest. The others dozed off quickly as well, leaving Keldorn to guard them, and Jaheira to watch... to watch over Greywulf.

She gazed down at his face, the lines of stress and burden placed upon him far too early. She ran one hand down his cheek- his body only barely stirred briefly in response. She sighed, letting her hand drop as she shifted the chain mail she wore, trying to find a comfortable spot to sit beside Greywulf's sleeping form. It was hard, seeing him so vulnerable and weakened. She didn't know when it had happened... how it had happened even. Somewhere along the line, she had come to depend on him. To need his company more and more. He was a great comfort to her; she had already admitted to him and to herself that she loved him. His words eased her thoughts, his presence eased her fears; this was all beside the fact they had saved each other in battle so many times. The very thought of losing him sent chills down her spine. And yet… it was so very possible they could lose one another. Here, in this place of darkness, in this hell.

Three trials so far… three times he had proven his quality. Proven himself to be the man Jaheira believed him to be. Two more stairs were there for him to descend, two more chances for her to lose him. A short time ago this would have raised tiny thoughts of doubt, planted seeds of discord in her faith. Never again. She would not leave his side, not about one whom she loved so deeply. She bent over and kissed him, his eyes fluttering open just enough to meet her gaze.

"Jaheira…?"

"Shh… just go back to sleep. You have much to be rested for. Sleep well, and I promise I will be here when you wake."

X X X X X X

The green-hued sky above thundered with pale flashes of lightning, as though roaring in approval of the violence that was sure to follow soon. There was little chance that the two remaining stairways would prove to be friendly, and each and every member of their party was readying themselves for the worst. Their rest had been as uneventful as they had hoped, with no demonic presences threatening from the woodwork. Everyone had gotten as much sleep as needed, including those who had stayed awake to keep watch for a time. Minsc and Aerie were talking; the ranger comforting and reassuring the Avariel no doubt. Imoen was stretching, flexing her muscles for the acrobatic feats she mustered in combat, while Keldorn was his usual stoic self, calm in the storm. Greywulf though... he flexed his wrist, feeling out the slight sprain he'd received in their short battle with Sarevok's spirit.

Even so, it wasn't his wrist that was bothering him; he glanced at Jaheira, watching her continue to rearm, checking and double-checking her gear before battle, as always. This was quite possibly the hardest thing he'd ever done, or would ever do. All common sense told him to wait, to put this off until they were back... but he might not get that chance. It was now or never, and he wasn't one to run away from the important things that had to be done.

"Jaheira? I... ah, I was hoping to talk to you for a moment. Can we...?"

The druid looked up from tightening her equipment, strapping on her dagger and preparing for their final venture into this hellish place. "Of course." she replied easily, allowing him to lead her a little further away from the group. "What is it you want?"

"I think we need to talk… about us." he said, trying to calm the knots in his stomach. "Where our relationship is really going."

"Us?" she remarked wryly. "I appreciate a meaningful talk as much as the next girl… but have you noticed where we are?"

"Not the best time, I know… and I know what kind of danger we'll be jumping into." he answered, glancing at the huge door, still watched over by those unholy guardian eyes. "There's a pretty good chance that one, if not all of us, won't walk out of here. Not alive, anyway."

Jaheira let out a mock sigh and glared at Greywulf, the smallest hint of a smile tugging at the corners of her mouth. "Greywulf... you wouldn't be trying to seduce me with a 'we may die tomorrow so we should sleep together now' line, would you? If so… you should have tried it last night."

"I wouldn't dream of it." Greywulf bowed slightly with a shrug. "Besides, last night might have proved disappointing for you; I was a bit tired, if you hadn't noticed."

"It does seem we are never allowed a moment of rest. Still, I am glad we have accomplished so much." Jaheira said, turning the conversation back from the flirting she had started, knowing he still had something important to say, satisfied that she had calmed him somewhat.

"I'm just happy to have weathered it all with you at my side." Greywulf replied, choosing his words carefully.

"I am glad as well. For a long time I had been worried that my desire to avenge the dead had… well… I just want the business of the past to be well and truly finished." Jaheira said, pushing the faint glimmer of hesitation from her voice. "I know that when this is all over things will be different; different in several ways."

"I know… that's why I wanted to talk. I need you to know- just to know that I need you here. You keep me grounded, Jaheira…" Greywulf said, still searching for the right words to say. "I can't imagine continuing on without you at my side."

"I had hoped as much." Jaheira whispered back. "I could not imagine us apart either; I still feel for you, and I intend for us to get through all of this together."

"Exactly- together." Greywulf jumped on the words Jaheira had provided, steeling himself for what was to come. "Jaheira, you said it yourself; this is a terrible time and a terrible place... but I can't wait any more. Last night you promised you would be here when I woke... and you were."

"And?" she prodded, her heart beginning to beat just a bit faster.

"I want to be able to promise you the same thing… I want to be there for you, to be there for you the way you've been there for me. Not just for the present… but in the future as well. I want *us* to be together, no matter what. So Jaheira… will you marry me?"

Jaheira's breath caught, even though she had been able to guess his intentions from the moment he had asked to speak with her, just waiting for him to spit it out. She stared at him, the earnestness in his face, the love she could see in his eyes. In practicality and logic, it was still absurd… they had only been involved in a relationship for a few months, they were stuck in a miniature plane of hell… but she loved him. She loved him; logic and practicality be damned. She returned his expectant gaze and then kissed him, both hands wrapped around his head, pulling him close.

"So… was that a yes?" he whispered as they let go of each other.

"Of course it was, you fool." she purred, taking him by the hand. "I will marry you."


	103. Part 3: Battle Royale: Part, The Last

"Fear. What drives men and women to succeed, and what drags them down into failure. It stings and soothes, turns bravery into cowardice, and slays the mightiest of heroes. Because of its icy touch, kingdoms have fallen and kings have been betrayed. Quite possibly the most powerful of emotions... and yet, it is possible to be conquered, given the chance."

The demon that hovered before the party paused for a moment, as though challenging the group to answer. They did not speak, only waited for it to finish. They had set out for their final challenges, seeking their escape, which meant facing the final two stairways in this plane of Hell. "Make your challenge, creature." Greywulf declared, fixing gazes with the Balor.

"Very well. A Tear lies very close to here, Child of Bhaal," the demon continued, "Just inside this room before you. You have been through many places and battles in your existence where you have been forced to swallow your fear, no? You have fought off terror that would overwhelm a lesser being and shown courage instead. Pass through the darkness of this room and your vaunted courage shall be challenged, Child of Bhaal."

At his words, a single beam of light shone down in the far side of the room, illuminating a pedestal. On it sat the Tear they needed, the only thing visible in the space of the room before them. Greywulf eyed it, and then turned back to the demon, who grinned maliciously.

"I have something I will offer, however, which will make it so much easier for you, Child. You know, like so many with power, that items of magic can do much that the ordinary man cannot…such as this cloak, for instance." the demon raised a claw, and a flash of magic ignited, revealing a cloak draped over its claw. "Stitched together from the flayed skins of lovely nymphs- wear it and be soothed by its powerful magic. Panic will never overcome you again. With this cloak you could easily gather the Tear of Bhaal and worry not of your courage. I bow to the power of your divine soul, Child, and offer this cloak up to you… if you wish it."

The demon bowed his head and raised its claws, a long cloak of turquoise and lavender hues lying in its arms. The material was so thin and translucent; there was no reason to doubt what the demon had said. Even as he brought it near to Greywulf, the mage recoiled, its aura strong enough to catch him off guard. The sheer wickedness of the cloak, the despicable acts that were involved in making such an item, all of it lingered upon the cloak.

"A cloak stitched from the skin of nymphs?" asked Greywulf with a hint of anger. "I can feel its evil from here, demon. I wish nothing to do with it, no matter the power it possesses."

If the demon was surprised at his answer, it did not show it. It merely lowered its arms, the cloak disappearing. "Then you choose to rely on your own power and bravery. It shall be as you wish, Child of Bhaal."

A fire rushed upward from the ground, consuming the Balor as it vanished from sight. Greywulf raised his hand to protect himself from the heat of the blaze; behind it, blocking the way to the Tear of Bhaal, six shapes began to form themselves in the darkness, taking faces that were so familiar...

The sound of footfalls rapidly approaching made Greywulf frown; he lowered his arm to look into the inky blackness between himself and the Tear, only to find himself hit by a quarterstaff across the side of the face, sending him rolling away from the party in a daze. He hadn't even seen what had struck him; the cries of the other members of the party gave him hope that they had seen his attacker and were engaging it now.

"Hello there. It's high time you and I had a talk." the voice... so familiar, even as Greywulf tried to clear his head, tried to make his vision focus as he swung his staff around to protect the length of his body while lying on the ground- just in time. The downswing of the quarterstaff his opponent was using would have smashed his ribs had he failed to block in time. Greywulf, still unable to see his attacker amidst his own daze and the darkness, unleashed a Sunfire, driving his opponent back in a fury of flame and energy, enough for him to regain his footing. If only he could get his head clear, if he could just get a moment to recover-

"Oh no. You'll get no quarter from me. In fact, I think you'll find me to be the toughest opponent you've ever faced." the voice, still so maddeningly familiar, leapt from the darkness with the man himself, pouncing with singed robes from the Sunfire as he drove Greywulf to the ground, trying to use the quarterstaff he held to choke Greywulf, pressing it towards his neck.

So close, Greywulf could not help but see his attacker's face. His eyes widened and his pulse quickened as he looked into the face of... himself. No- not himself. This face was smoother, less scarred. It contained a raging fury, but the experiences, the worry lines... all of them were gone. This wasn't Greywulf... this was Galmarath.

"Recognize me now?" Galmarath hissed, pushing his weapon down further as Greywulf gagged for breath. "Brings back some memories, right? It should... you were me, after all! Almost thirty years, we were one!"

"No..." Greywulf managed to work out of his mouth, trying to fight away the black that was edging at the corners of his vision. "You... you were a lie-"

"Wrong!!" Galmarath screamed in Greywulf's face, releasing one hand from the staff he was choking Greywulf with to slam it into his face, knocking his head against the cold stone floor. "Those memories in our head, those thirty years of happiness and peace? We can't deny those! You felt what I felt; my life was your life! And what did we do? We threw it all away! Left our wife, our child, our family!!"

Greywulf snarled in fury at the accusations from this specter; he took advantage of the moment where Galmarath wasn't applying both hands to the staff and elbowed him in the face, giving him just enough space to slip out, the two scrambling to their feet in sequence. "I did what had to be done." he spat, the coppery taste of blood in his mouth.

"What had to be done?!" Galmarath laughed bitterly, swinging his staff towards Greywulf's left side, blocked narrowly by the wizard. "We gave up everything for the power of Bhaal, admit it! Do you think there's any possible way that we'll be happy in this world? Any chance we'll find the slightest sense of peace with that taint running through our blood? We're a freak, a mistake that'll never be loved, find happiness, or lead anything resembling a normal life!"

"You're wrong!!" shouted Greywulf, unleashing a barrage of Magic Missiles; Galmarath deflected them with a Spell Shield, sending them flying back at a surprised Greywulf. The explosions knocked Greywulf off his feet even as Galmarath approached, twirling his quarterstaff with a vengeful smile.

"So powerful... but you know what they say about power, and we're the most corrupted one here. The saddest part is for all that power, we'll never know happiness. Not like we used to. It should've been my life that we chose. Mine! I'm going to rectify that mistake right now."

X X X X X X

"Hehehe... c'mon Immy, no need to be shy. S'not like I'm going to bite- well, maybe a little bit."

Imoen's heart raced in near panic as she kept retreating, trying to put distance between her and that... that thing that kept moving toward her. She fired another arrow from her bow- the bounding creature raised a hand and deflected it with a single word of magic. "You keep away from me! Stay back!"

The Laughing Death crouched and leapt forward, covering the distance between her and Imoen in the blink of an eye, before Imoen could react. Her hand came up and smacked the bow from Imoen's wavering grasp, sending it sliding across the smooth rock ground. The Laughing Death grinned behind the pink stands of hair that covered half her face- her darkened eyes glimmered as she raised a flaming fist and swung it into Imoen's stomach, taking the wind out of her and scorching the leather armor she wore.

She grabbed Imoen by the hair and pulled her head around to peer into the girl's frightened gaze; she smiled sweetly and shook one finger with mock condescension. "Silly thing... you didn't think we were going to make this easy on you, didja? Can't outrun your destiny, right?"

The Laughing Death giggled and threw Imoen across the room, even as she nonchalantly drew the short sword she carried from her hip, glimmering in the low light. Imoen looked up from where she had been thrown, shaking her head as she pushed herself up, pointing at her doppelganger with words of power forming at her mouth. Flame arrows leapt from her hand and struck the Laughing Death's elven splint mail, the jagged black and pink painted stripes burning away under the intense heat; if she noticed, she didn't let it show as she continued her approach. "Can't kill me so quick, Im. I'm more powerful than you'll ever be. Heh. Wanna know why?"

Imoen dodged back as The Laughing Death made a swing for her gut, one that would have disemboweled her easily. She continued to back away nervously, looking for some way to gain an advantage, some way to block out the taunts and lies- what she hoped were lies- coming from the mirror image before her. "It's because I'm your final destination. What you'll become in the end. Poor little girl, scared, confused, trying to hide it all with those giggles and sparkles and cheer... tell me kid, who do ya really think yer foolin, huh?"

"You're lying." Imoen swallowed, drawing her own short sword as the distance between them was closed; metal rung as Imoen parried the attack, just barely. The Laughing Death pressed against Imoen, forcing the girl back against a wall, thrusting her own face into Imoen's. She whispered into Imoen's ear, "You know I'm right. You feel that confusion, that emptiness that the taint brings every day. Life's a big joke- it took me a while, but I got it. You will too. Just a matter of time. Once you do... well, you won't need them anymore."

The Laughing Death glanced at Imoen's companions, giggled, then glanced back at Imoen. "And if you think they'll help you stay strong, walk the straight and narrow and all that rot- let's just say that Khalid and Jaheira thought the same thing back in the day, over in my little corner of the multiverse. I showed them otherwise..."

X X X X X X

The sound of steel ringing in the darkness echoed loudly with each blow from the large blades that struck each other time and time again. Minsc's bald head dripped with sweat at the exertion of holding back an opponent as strong, as driven as he- not something he was used to, that much was clear. Minsc's opponent looked like him in almost every feature... every feature but one. Those eyes. The sheer hatred, the rage and anger that could be seen his opponent was not in Minsc, not even during his berserker rages.

"Imbecile! Moron! Fool!"

The epithets hurled by Minsc's opponent were his voice, his accent- but there was none of the jovial tone, none of the kindness. Minsc felt his opponent's blade disengage, then swing downward to cut his legs out from beneath him. He leapt, only for his enemy to release his blade with one hand and punch out with the other, knocking Minsc off balance mid-air. He came down awkwardly, enough so for the other Minsc to gain an upper hand in the fight. Swing after swing came down, each one accompanied by a shout of rage. "Do you even realize what we are to them?! We're nothing! A sick joke that they keep playing because it suits them. Do you think any of them consider us their friend? Do you?!!"

Minsc struggled to hold back the blade that was slowly pushing his backward, his opponent shunting Minsc's sword from its guard position. "We're nothing but fodder for them. A meat shield to be used and discarded. Face it, that's all we've ever been good for! They don't care about us- none of them do! The only one who ever cared for us was Dynaheir, and we let her die! Our fault! Our failure! Why would any of these men and women *ever* consider treating us as anything more than a joke? We talk to a hamster for a friend, that's how insane we are! We're a pathetic fool that makes them laugh, nothing more!!"

Minsc's sword dropped from his hands with a clatter, and he howled in pain as the blade his opponent wielded sliced through armor and entered his thigh, dropping him to one knee. The rage-filled Minsc raised his sword, dripping with blood as he prepared to decapitate the man on his knees before him. "I'm going to do something that should've been done years ago. Something that our so-called friends won't lift a finger to stop. Why? Because we are worth absolutely nothing to them. Nothing."

X X X X X X

Aerie's eyes widened as she raised a shield of magic, the blue haze materializing in front of her, just before a mace would have slammed into her head. The Avariel who wielded the blunt object snarled at the defense, then took flight into the air, swooping back and forth around Aerie, making half-lunges and sweeps at her before really attacking. Aerie tried to ignore the pain at seeing a vision of herself, so furious and so filled with hatred, flying, soaring through the air with perfect wings, piercing her heart with every beat. The Aerie who soared overhead shouted with rage as she came down in a rush, swooping low and knocking Aerie off her feet. The dazed girl defended herself on instinct, drawing the Flail of Ages from her side and swinging wildly, the very corner of one flail head clipping the side of her opponent. The sound of her body skidding to the ground and tumbling head over heels gave Aerie some measure of courage and strength; she stood, spinning as she looked for her doppelganger- there.

Aerie's opponent stood, holding her injured side gingerly as she hissed, "You're pathetic. Look at you... a sniveling little worm, stuck on the ground, weak and useless. Isn't that what you called yourself not so long ago?"

Those words that she had spoken returned to her in a flash of self-loathing and doubt, but Aerie shook them off and raised a hand, speaking incantations to summon a pillar of flame. The figure before her flapped her wings and vaulted out of the way, taking flight once more, circling Aerie from above. "We're nothing, Aerie. Just a broken little bird that will never measure up. We'll never be fast enough, strong enough, tough enough..."

She swooped in again, again slamming her mace down towards Aerie's head. She brought the Flail up to block, the chains of the weapon wrapping themselves around the mace... but before Aerie could contemplate trying to use this to disarm her opponent, the flying elf had done that exact thing, yanking hard and sending the Flail flying from Aerie's hand. Before she realized her mistake, the Avariel had landed and backhanded Aerie with the handle of her mace, knocking her to the ground in a daze. "And we'll most certainly never fly high enough."

She leaned down and grabbed Aerie by the front of her robes, hauling her to her feet as she spat, "We're still as worthless as we were when they found us. Every chance wasted, every opportunity squandered. We even had a chance to love... and we let him go. Let him choose that druid over us."

Aerie shook her head feebly, pushing at her captor. "No... his decision, not mine to make-"

The elf with wings growled a curse and threw Aerie to the ground, stalking close with mace raised high. "Pathetic excuses from a pathetic waste of life. You're dead weight, Aerie, nothing more."

X X X X X X

Jaheira spun in place, the braids of hair fluttering and whirling along with her as the spear she wielded struck time and time again against the weapon being leveled against her. Her mirrored opponent jabbed once, twice, a furious rage indwelling each strike. Like the sound of a hailstorm, the cracks of the wooden shaft thundered every time Jaheira defended herself against the doppelganger that faced her. Her spear tip dug into the ground, using it as leverage to deflect an incoming strike toward her side; Jaheira's eyes widened as her darker side slid underneath the block, bringing a long leg behind hers to knock her legs out from under her. She hit the ground harder than she anticipated, losing her wind with the impact.

Jaheira's opponent slammed down atop the dazed druid, her flashing green eyes boring into the druid's with thick hatred. "Do you think there's even the slightest chance that these people, our so-called friends, actually trust us? That we've actually persuaded them to look at us with anything more than caution, or fear?"

Jaheira struggled to roll, to shift the weight of the woman pinning her to the side, but there was no leverage to be had. "We're a pariah, Jaheira. A traitor to the Harpers, a traitor to our friends! That pin around your neck, do you think it makes up for the blood we've spilled? The trust we've betrayed? They will never trust us again! Ever!"

The druid on top was taken by surprise as Jaheira lashed out; a forearm to the throat stopped her from speaking any further. Jaheira had a brief moment to escape, a slight pause in her opponent's concentration to escape the pin she'd found herself in. Both of her legs tucked upward, attempting to put a bit of distance between the two of them while she lashed out with her rigid left hand, striking for her opponent's neck, hoping to hit a pressure point.

No- her doppelganger shifted at the last moment, letting Jaheira's hand bounce off her shoulder, grazing her neck. Hardly a deadening blow. Her opportunity lost, Jaheira's world spun as an elbow struck her chin. The knife she kept at her belt was suddenly at her throat, freezing any further attempts on her part to escape. A hand closed around her throat, Jaheira struggling to speak through the choking. "You... you are not real. Just empty fears-"

"Empty fears? Hardly." she spat, raising the dagger high. "I'm nothing but a reflection of our sins. We've betrayed everyone we loved, everyone we considered family. Better that Khalid died than see what we've become..."

X X X X X X

A blow to the left, blocked and parried downward. A strike from on high, dodged with a quick backward leap. A full-bodied swing to cut him open from hip to shoulder- Keldorn grabbed Carsomyr's blade and used the flat of the holy sword to shunt the blow to the side, pushing away his dark armored counterpart. Keldorn's face was unreadable, unchanging as he endured the hail of blows coming from his doppelganger, the hail of insults and shouts that echoed through his ears.

"When it will end? When?! Our entire life has been nothing more than a desperate attempt to make up for our failure to protect her. To protect our family. Always thinking that if we can save one more person, destroy one more evil, we'll be free. Free of the burden that strangles our soul. But we both know the truth... it will never be over for us!"

The dark paladin roared as he spun, his mammoth blade cutting from the opposite side as he went for Keldorn's legs. The paladin, augmented by the Gauntlets of Dexterity, jumped just high enough to avoid the blow and came down with a backhand that sent his opponent reeling. He stumbled away, wiping blood from his mouth, then glared with rage. "We keep on fighting, keep on this never-ending crusade, why?! We're on a Fool's Errand, that's all! For all the good we've done, for all the lives we've saved, have we ever really made a difference? We kill monsters, stop criminals, for what?! So more can rise up in their place, just as wicked and twice as numerous?"

Keldorn's mouth twitched in effort as Carsomyr swung upwards to deflect a straight thrust, both men struggling to bring their blades back to ready position before the other. Once again, they found themselves squaring off with no discernible advantage given. They circled for another moment, their gazes fixed and their eyes narrowed. "You know I'm right. For every dragon we slay, for every demon we smite, it won't bring back Maria or our children. It won't make up for our failure. And it won't bring us the peace we're looking for."

The dark paladin rushed, sword at guard. Keldorn bolted forward as well, the two poised to collide- at the last moment, Keldorn spun out of the way, swinging his blade with his entire body. It sliced through armor and sent his doppelganger tumbling to the ground. Keldorn stalked to his fallen opponent, his sword pointed at the fallen paladin. "Are you finished yet?"

He flipped over his opponent with a boot, the man on the ground gasping for breath, trying to overcome the grievous wound inflicted upon him. "You think you're tapping my fears, embodying my doubts. Maybe you are. Maybe you described everything I fear about myself and more. But I've heard it all before. I hear it in my head every time I step into battle. You? You've just given me a physical way to fight those fears, that's all."

Keldorn stabbed downward, impaling his double with a grunt of effort. It screamed, an unearthly howl that faded along with the body, crumbling into dust. The howl rippled through the chamber, past Jaheira, watching as her double held the dagger high, swinging it downward to lodge into her brain- Jaheira's hand came up at the last moment, holding it inches from her eye. The two of them trembled at the exertion, Jaheira's face tight with anger and effort. "You... you would dare talk to me of Khalid? To try and imply that I have betrayed him?!"

She shouted in fury as she twisted the other woman's wrist, slowly but surely pointing the dagger at her counterpart; the woman dropped the dagger in pain, Jaheira headbutting her simultaneously. A shift of momentum and Jaheira was the one on top, a knee pressing on her opponent's spine as she grabbed the woman's head with both hands. "I will not be captive to what-if's and what might have been! I have faced my doubts and fears, and I refuse to bear guilt over what has passed. You are nothing."

A sharp crack echoed through the cavern as Jaheira pushed off the dead specter; the sound of the crack echoed past the winged version of Aerie, stalking towards her fallen foe with mace in hand. Aerie could no longer outrun the elf, not on the ground like she was- Keldorn barreled into view, shoving the doppelganger of Aerie to the side, extending a hand to Aerie with a gentle smile. Aerie took it gratefully, standing to her feet as the winged Aerie snarled, flapping her wings to take flight again. "No." Aerie growled.

Fire leapt from her hands, engulfing the Avariel's wings. She shrieked in terror and pain as she dropped to the ground, rolling desperately to put out the blaze. She came to a stop, her wings tattered and burnt; Aerie stood over her with the Flail of Ages in hand. The wounded Avariel looked up and screamed with tears running down her face, "How could you?!!"

The Flail of Ages swung downward, quieting the sobs. "Because..." Aerie whispered quietly. "You were right. I'll never be good enough... not if I'm looking for you in the mirror instead of me. This is who I am, like it or not."

The Sword of Chaos swung into an arc that led right through Minsc's neck; and stopped just short as Jaheira's spear landed in the ground, just to Minsc's left. It dug a notch in the wood, but the enchantment on the weapon held up, keeping it whole in the face of the berserker strength used against her. Minsc's counterpart screamed a challenge, lashing out with a foot to knock Jaheira back. "Stay out of this! Why would you bother trying to help him?!"

"I am going to help Minsc." Jaheira growled, glancing at the seemingly dazed ranger on the ground, grabbing his attention. "Because that is what friends do for one another."

Her words resonated in Minsc's head- he looked up, eyes narrowing as he fixed upon his darker self. The doppelganger was momentarily distracted by Jaheira... he limped to his feet, barely able to move forward with his leg injury, but his fury numbed any and all pain. "RAAAAGGHHHHH!!!!"

Jaheira smirked as the dark ranger she was facing off against spun in surprise, only for Minsc to barrel into him. A ham-sized fist crunched into the side of the dazed man's face, followed by two straight jabs to the nose. Minsc fell atop the man, his arms blurs as they fell like pistons, blood splattering with each impact. "You insult Minsc! You insult Minsc's friends!! You insult BOO!!! For this, Minsc will show no mercy!!"

Minsc reared back and clasped both hands together, landing a massive hammer blow on the face of his opponent. The sickening noise of bone entering flesh was proof enough; the bloodied mess faded away as quickly as it had arrived.

The sound of Minsc's war cry had gotten the attention of the Laughing Death, if only for a moment; Imoen took the opportunity to spit the incantations to Magic Missile; all five of the orbs of energy exploded into her face, sending the Laughing Death stumbling backward, holding her smoking face with howls of pain and curses.

"I am nothing like you!! I will never be like you!!" Imoen screamed, striding up to her opponent as she unleashed a bolt of lightning from her left hand, knocking the wounded girl off her feet. The Laughing Death was still holding half of her face, covered in burnt hair and cracked with blisters and blood as she laughed at the fury radiating from the girl.

"I dunno... looks like yer doin a pretty good impression right here, huh? All that anger, all that rage, enough to drive a girl mad! Feels good to let it out a bit, right? Guess it's time for you to do a little killing..."

Imoen paused a moment, hesitating as she looked at the disfigured version of herself, lying on the ground- in the corner of her eye, she saw Galmarath approaching a fallen Greywulf, blue flame in one hand as he prepared to immolate the sorcerer. She stared at her double for another moment, then sprinted for Greywulf. The Laughing Death watched as Imoen intervened, a Finger of Death just barely deflected by Galmarath's defenses. Greywulf saw his opportunity and took it; he rolled away and to his feet, coming up with a Cone of Cold that froze Galmarath's feet to the spot. He would have fallen over if his feet would let him, but as it was he could do nothing but watch as Imoen sauntered up with a grin, the powers of a Disintegrate forming in her hands. "I had to deal with you once before, remember? Greywulf might feel a bit guilty, but trust me: I have no problem getting rid of you again."

The Laughing Death snickered, rolling her eyes as Greywulf walked to tower over her. She grinned at his cold visage, shaking a finger. "You won't kill me. I'm just lil' ol' Im, right?"

"No." Greywulf replied coldly, arcs of electricity jumping in his outstretched fingers. "You're a perversion, a monstrosity that I'm going to make sure only exists in her fears, in her head. You want to try to get into my head, intimidate me? Be my guest. But when you've got the avatar of Bhaal living inside you... well, let's just say I'm not impressed."

Her laughs intermixed with screams for a few moments before cutting off. Darkness. Stillness. The only sound to break the silence being that of labored breathing and gasps of exertion. Fear... their innermost, private fears had been faced, had been laid open for all of them to see. Together, in the end, those fears had been conquered.

X X X X X X

The final stair was no different from the ones before, short yet rocky and spined with jagged rock as though alive and full of malice. The area it opened up into was different though, a small room barely big enough to accommodate them all at once, though there was another path leading off the room, enclosed and darkened so that its destination was not visible. Greywulf took a step forward; like clockwork, a demon appeared once more, blocking their path to the adjoining cavern. Greywulf highly doubted there was any danger forthcoming from the demon itself and he did not raise his staff to block, instead approached to face the demon close, nodding in acknowledgment of the beast's arrival. "Ah. So the Child of Bhaal comes to me, finally, for the last of the Tears. You have come very near to locating your quarry, O young Lord of Murder. Yes, indeed you have."

Greywulf stiffened, despising the creature before him despite not fearing it. "I am no Lord of Murder, demon. I seek the last Tear, true; I would also know why I have been subjected to these strange tests! What do you demons hope to gain by testing me thusly?"

"Tests? Of a sort." the demon frowned, thinking about Greywulf's words. "Remember that the mage holds power here too, and seeks to prevent you from finding him. We creatures who 'test' you are under your command, and have only done as you asked. The tests are of your own making, from your own power."

"What do you mean?"

The Balor sighed as if explaining something trivial, then began again. "How do you find your soul, Child of Bhaal? Do you find it on a stroll? No, you must know yourself, the depths of your passion and the heights of your depravity. You come to know what you are capable of, and that shall open the way to your soul. It is yourself, your essence that you seek…whether you know it or not. And because this is what you seek, your power fights against the mage and brings you closer to your goal. Soon you shall open the eyes with the Tears of Bhaal."

"And what then? The door will be open and Irenicus will be there?" Greywulf asked cautiously, trying to comprehend fully.

"The way to your soul shall be revealed, but you only perceive it as a door. A pity that mortal minds can encompass more power than their faculties can comprehend." the demon tsked. "I hope you have been careful, Child of Bhaal. The Nine Hells are a place of retribution…the Tears sting as easily as they soothe."

"Why are you speaking so cryptically? What does that mean?" Greywulf said, frustrated at the non-answers he had received.

"I obscure the truth because it is my nature to do so, O Lord of Murder. But I bow to your mastery, here, and answer your questions nevertheless. Each Tear has power aside from that which to blind the guardian eyes. Each one will indwell you with the power you have given it."

"What power? What have I given these Tears?"

"You will get back what you have put into them, Child of Bhaal. That is your truth, all that I can say that shall satisfy." the Balor exhaled, its eyes flashing red briefly before turning to its regular golden hue.

It turned to glance down the corridor behind him, grinning as it faced them again, showing no sign that it had said anything previously. "It is a good thing you have come to me, Child of Bhaal. Only you hold the power to vanquish the terrible creature that holds the last of your dead father's Tears here. I have heard of your prowess, Child…most impressive, for a mortal life. Creatures of great power thrown aside as if they were nothing! Beings any other mortal would quake before you have fought against valiantly! You are a wonder of destruction, Child of Bhaal! Go then, and defeat the creature that lies in the cavern! Crush it beneath your heel and claim another victory!"

He glanced about at his companions, hoping for some insight as to the trick this time around… there was no choice the demon offered, no decision about how to attack the creature or an offering of an item to maker the battle easier… only the opponent itself.

"What manner of creature is it?" Greywulf asked slowly, hoping it would provide some clue as to how he should approach this task.

"It is a powerful creature, Child of Bhaal. One that only you can destroy! I am confident in your ability to deal death to such a creature as this and take the Tear that is yours!" the demon resounded.

He hesitated… still wondering how he was being manipulated now, what manner of darkness was being pushed upon him here. "These tests… they are from your own psyche, Greywulf. You called them forth… what would *you* test of yourself?" Keldorn's reassuring voice, as though reading his uncertainty, came through in encouragement.

The demon glared at Keldorn as if irritated with the paladin's input, then turned back to Greywulf, stepping aside to open the path to the cavern beyond. His mind racing still, Greywulf found himself walking forward toward the corridor, slowly passing the demon, grinning in twisted encouragement as he moved…

_"Confidence can quickly become arrogance; power corrupts, and great good must be kept in check lest it turn to evil. All of these things are intertwined, and when you lose your balance in one… it causes the others to falter as well."_

The sound of Jaheira's words resounded in his mind just before his foot would have passed the demon by, his motion stopping just was it… the final piece of himself that needed to be mastered lest it corrupt him… his arrogance and pride. He abruptly turned to the obviously surprised Balor and asked firmly, "You said the creature that held the Tear was powerful. What manner of creature *is* it?"

"It is a creature that deserves death, Child of Bhaal." the demon said with a bit of hesitation. "You are such a wondrous fighter; I simply thought that you could defeat it where others failed."

"Why does it deserve death?" Greywulf pressed, unwilling to go any further until he knew exactly why he had to fight.

"Because… because it exists. It stands in your way." the Balor protested.

Greywulf shook his head, glaring up at the demon defiantly. "I do not kill things just because they are in my way, beast."

"You do not? Then perhaps you consider carefully the place that your terrible power will focus upon? Consider the reason behind every blow?" it shot back.

"Whenever possible, yes." Greywulf said firmly. "Why should I kill the creature that possesses the Tear beyond? Will it not give it to me willingly?"

The demon growled, then harrumphed as it averted its gaze from Greywulf's. "Well… yes. It might at that. I see that despite your great deeds, you strive to master the arrogance that would consume so many others, Child of Bhaal. So be it. Humility serves well those who wield it."

It finally vanished, and Greywulf once more set forth, this time in clear conscience of his actions. Nothing accosted them on their way through the hallway, and when they reached the opening of the second room, a figure of enormous size rumbled out of the darkness. The scales it bore were polished bronze, gleaming in the dim torch light surrounding. It eyed them once, and then gestured to the pedestal in the center of the room with one enormous claw, the Tear lying upon it freely. The bronze dragon bowed in respect, its deep voice rumbling through the cavern, "You have mastered your Pride, Greywulf. The Tear of Bhaal is yours. Go well."

The dragon vanished as quickly as it had appeared, leaving them with the final Tear of Bhaal. Greywulf took hold of it triumphantly, and in a flash of light and magic, all six companions found themselves standing before the door of the main platform, all five stairways rumbling and quivering as though earthquakes were taking place underneath them. With the crash of splintering rock and crumbling stone, all five stairways collapsed, breaking away from the main platform and leaving nothing but gaping holes that extended off into the darkened abyss below. The entire platform quivered, and for a moment they feared that the entirety of the area would meet the same fate as the staircases and their rooms, but within a few seconds, everything was still once more, and the only thing left was the door before them and the five eyes that guarded it. Greywulf exhaled and looked to the others. "This is it… no matter what happens, it's been an honor to fight beside all of you. Aerie, Jaheira… you know what to do."

Both nodded and began their protection spells, blessing and enchanting the group with every beneficial spell they could muster. When every possible avenue of protection was exhausted, Greywulf pulled the five Tears from his pack. They glowed and hummed quietly with power, almost vibrating in his hand. He took the first and touched it to the eye nearest. As it touched, the Tear seemed to push into the surface of the eye, the pupil growing white as the eye shut, turning to a stone eyelid, blinded forever. Even as it closed with a crack of power, Greywulf felt an expulsion of magic energy go out from the blinded eye… seeking him out. It thrust into him without warning, seeking out his inmost parts and searching them without pity or discretion. It barged amongst his thoughts and mind, uncaring and unfeeling. Finally, after what felt like an eternity, it was satisfied… the energy dissipated within him, filling him completely. He shivered with the newfound power… it felt as though he had gained knowledge and energy that would have taken weeks for him to acquire through study and practice.

"Whoa there… care to explain, Greywulf?"

He barely heard Imoen speaking, but he still turned and said, "What's wrong?"

"We... we just wanted to be sure you were okay." she said hesitantly.

"Boo says that you are a bit shinier than usual." Minsc remarked.

Greywulf glanced down at himself and saw that true enough… he was glowing, if only a little. "The Tear- it gave me something. A power I've never felt before. It was like it had something to bestow-but it had to… to check first, I guess. It felt like it was searching me for something."

"Maybe it was looking for whatever that Tear tested…. Pride, Fear, Wrath… and rewarding a lack of those qualities." Keldorn remarked.

"I never felt any intent to hurt me…" Greywulf said carefully, "Even if I had chosen different paths through the trials, I still think it would have given me power… but of a different sort."

"Then I'm glad you chose carefully." Aerie said with a faint smile. "In a place like this… any small push could unbalance you, I think."

The second Tear entered an eye, than the third, then the fourth. Each one jolted Greywulf with the same energy and seeking sensation; each one ended with the same result, granting him more power as it left. Finally, Greywulf looked down at the Fifth Tear, preparing to place it. His hand… it was bright, a blinding glow that he could barely look at. He glanced back at his five friends; each of them was covering their eyes, unable to look fully at their friend anymore. With a final breath of resolve, he placed it… and with five peals of thunder, Greywulf watched the eye convulse, lightning striking it from the swirling clouds above. He drew back from the stricken eye, then convulsed as he felt energy leaving him, the swirling light that had surrounded him striking the final eye, slamming it shut.

There were still liters and gallons of energy to spare- it poured out and drained from his body like a sieve, rushing against the door before them, entering every crack and split in the rock surface. The lines of white seemed to grow, Greywulf pushing more and more of his newfound power out into the blockade before him, the whiteness engulfing the whole door slowly but surely. Finally, it split open and crumbled to nothingness, waves of magic swimming over the six standing before it. The flaps of their cloaks waved back in the wind as they struggled to stand before it, the power of the explosion driving them backward inexorably. A singular blast of magic struck before them, sending all six flying, while jagged shards of power and magic struck the ground where they had been standing, right in front of the door.

Greywulf climbed to his feet slowly, walking forward into the still powerful yet lessening wind. His friends were close behind, watching sparks and showers of light sprayed from the hits of lightning striking the ground. The blinding glow surrounding Greywulf previously was gone; nearly all the power that the Tears had given him was used to force the door open. He felt more powerful than before, true enough, but the majority of the energy had been spent and bled into the air before them. It mingled with the display of energy before them, blending into one expulsion of magic, blinding them with its intensity. When they could look once more, five figures stood before them, great and terrible to behold. In the middle stood the solitary object of their pursuit, Irenicus himself. He bore no wounds from their previous battle, and the confident smirk he bore was seemingly unaffected by their presence or his surroundings. Flanking him on either side were four demons… a Balor and a Pit Fiend on both. They snarled and gibbered in their own unnatural tongues, while Irenicus fixed a glare on Greywulf, a rivalry of titanic proportions ready to be ignited once more.

"It seems we are to battle one last time," said Irenicus with a vengeful tone. "No more hiding for either of us. I will enjoy destroying you, Greywulf. To die in this place is to cease to exist!"

"I am ready to face you. I have seen the depths of my soul and I am not afraid." Greywulf said firmly, raising his staff high in defense.

"Yes, perhaps you are focused within yourself, despite the loss of your soul." Irenicus admitted. "But I know as much of myself as well, and I too have no fear! As horrific as this place is, it merely mirrors the soul we now share. Shrink from it if you will, but I have grown to appreciate what it can offer! Now defend yourself! One of us is not truly dead, and may be restored if the other is left here to rot! I will be free with what I have taken!"

"There is only one possible end. You will fall here, Irenicus. That, I promise." Greywulf stated calmly, steel underneath his simple words.

"We shall see, Child of Bhaal. We shall see!"

"By all that is righteous, we will see your evil end today!" Keldorn roared as he stepped forward, raising Carsomyr high. "May the gods take pity on what remains of your soul."

""I came here, to Hell, just to help my friend!" Aerie declared. The shakiness and uncertainty that her voice used to hold were no longer present; the years' worth of maturity she had learned in a few short months shining through brilliantly. "Look who helps you, Irenicus. Demons?! You're going to die alone in Hell and you know it!"

"We've beaten you twice now, Irenicus… what makes you think you stand any sort of chance in round three?" Imoen remarked as she strung an arrow of fire to her bow. "Try and stay down when we kill you this time."

Irenicus laughed, an unpleasant sound that was far darker and deeper than it should have been. A blood red mist seemed to well up around the mage, his hands rising as darkness began overwhelming the wizard completely. His body began shifting and morphing in ways of disgusting contortionism, growing and splitting in familiar, evil patterns. The transformation was complete once more… Irenicus had finally learned to fully unleash the taint he had stolen; they faced five demons now. The Slayer walked the earth again.

"Do what you must, summon what you must!" Jaheira snarled. "No more platitudes, no more close escapes or temporary defeats; you have taken much from all of us. Now you die your final death!!"

"I grow tired of shouting battle cries at this particular mage." Minsc rumbled angrily, his berserker fury visibly rising to its height. "This time, Boo will finish his eyeballs once and for all so that he does not rise again! For the last time; Evil, meet my sword! SWORD, MEET EVIL!!!"

The Slayer met Greywulf's eyes, the two of them unwilling to look away… for just a brief moment, all that resounded in the air were the faint echoes of Minsc's battle cry. Then, with a grim nod, Greywulf spoke quietly. "Let's dance, you and I."

War was released like a floodgate of water breaking through a dam, the forces of darkness and light throwing themselves at each other in furious battle and combat. Greywulf flipped up his staff to strike the Balor that approached him in the face, a jolt of white magic igniting and driving the creature backwards. He continued onward to deflect a blast of fire from the other Balor with a word of power, driving to the true threat. The Slayer leapt into Greywulf, the two of them colliding as the Slayer drove him to the ground, all four arms swiping downwards to crush the sorcerer. Greywulf pushed upwards with both hands, striking the chest of the Slayer full on. His magics erupted with the force of a dozen thunderbolts, the Slayer tumbling and rolling away from the magical force. Greywulf pushed himself to his feet as the Slayer scrambled to do the same, snarling at his nemesis. Even as Greywulf watched the beast he had held inside for so long approach… he could feel his own personal monster enticing him again. _**LOOK AT HIM… HE USES HIS POWER TO FULL ADVANTAGE… YOU KNOW THAT WITHOUT ME YOU CANNOT WIN THIS BATTLE. UNLEASH ME, AND I WILL SHOW YOU WHAT TRUE POWER IS!**_

He did not even respond, merely shunted away the voice within and summoned his staff from the ground to greet the Slayer's approach with a quick side block, giving himself a bit of time to move across in a dodge from the Slayer's left two claws.

Imoen had been deftly circling the battleground, pulling back her bow with deliberation and force, waiting until each opportunity arose before firing, making each shot do maximum damage to her targets. She watched Jaheira spar with a Pit Fiend, backpedaling from the demon's advances, her spear and nature magics enough to defend herself yet not quite enough at the moment to mount a counteroffensive. Even as a small barricade of wood and vine splintered beneath the Pit Fiend's claws, the arrow of lightning she had unleashed struck, slamming into the shoulder of the demon's upper right arm. Jaheira did not hesitate; her legs immediately changed direction, and she vaulted herself up above the demon's right side, sticking her weapon directly into the joint of the arm and shoulder. It ripped loose almost as quickly as it went in due to her momentum, but the damage was done. That arm flailed wildly for a moment, then went limp, unable to strike any longer. The demon screeched its wail of anger, stomping forward towards Imoen, leaving Jaheira to strike once more from behind.

This time Jaheira grabbed a hold on the demon's dead arm and used it to pull herself up onto the creature's massive body. The pressure she applied to the wounded joint sent daggers of pain down the Pit Fiend's body and it immediately turned back to Jaheira, shaking madly as it attempted to kill its tormentor. At such close range, Imoen dropped her bow and began casting, the entirety of a Cone of Cold spell thrusting across the demon's chest. It howled in pain at the intense cold, made all the more worse that at such range, none of its magic was wasted on the surroundings. Jaheira shouted in victory as she brought her spear down in the back of the creature's neck, yanking it back and forth as it crunched and split bone and flesh, the final blow coming with Jaheira's dagger, sliding from her sheath and ripping into its back as she used it to slide all the way back to the ground. It wavered for a moment longer, then collapsed, slumped over as Jaheira yanked her weapon back out, turning back to the other battles raging.

Minsc had come up against one of the Balor's, and had Stonefire and Frostreaver drawn in each hand as he dodged and traded blows with the demon. He lunged out with Stonefire and caught just briefly on the Balor's arm, then whirled around with a back sweep of Frostreaver. It caught the arm on the other side, ripping long gashes in the Balor's limb. It roared, belching flame as it swatted at Minsc. Minsc dodged the flame with a long dive; the claw was aimed too well though and cracked across his legs, sending him down to the ground with a mighty crash. Stonefire tumbled from his grasp with the impact, and Minsc's eyes widened as he craned his neck around to see the Balor bringing his other claw around to smash his skull.

Minsc dropped Frostreaver as well and yanked the Sword of Chaos from its sheath, just in time. He jutted it towards the incoming attack, the large blade impaling the claw altogether. It recoiled with the strike, Minsc quickly rising and striking out with Frostreaver, picking it up and striking in one swoop, cutting open the other claw. Wounded twice, the Balor snarled a curse and yanked the Chaos Blade out of its hand, hurling it behind it, the sword sliding to rest by Stonefire. Minsc began to circle, but found the demon circling with him, ensuring that its large body was always between the ranger and his weapons. Another blast of flame came from the Balor's maw, once more driving Minsc back. His only weapon was Frostreaver; even as he looked for an opening, the Balor charged him, driving one of its wounded claws down to gash the side of the ranger. Minsc gritted his teeth as blood flowed from the wound at his side; it was too serious for him to ignore for any length of time. Still, there might be enough room now… he summoned all of his berserker fury, willingly throwing himself into a rage. Dropping Frostreaver as he gripped the Balor's fur with both hands, the ranger braced his feet and swung with all his might. The Balor, completely taken by surprise, tumbled across the platform, sliding into the Slayer even as it prepared to strike at Greywulf again. Minsc hurriedly stumbled over to his weapons, strapping Stonefire back onto his back alongside Frostreaver as he gripped the Sword of Chaos, fixing the demon in his sights once more.

Aerie had seen the damage Minsc had taken, and despite keeping her own opponent at bay with a mixture of holy incantations and swipes from the Flail of Ages, getting away from her opponent completely would be next to impossible for the elf. A burst of magic struck the Pit Fiend she was fighting from the side, pushing it away from her. She glanced to see Greywulf approaching, his staff outstretched at the Pit Fiend. She took the opportunity to run over to the ranger, already beginning to falter in his walk. Her spells were quick and potent, and the flow of blood stopped, though he was not at full strength by any means. She stuck with him as they came to the spot the Balor had tumbled to… only to find the Slayer there as well, righting himself with a growl.

With both Irenicus and the Balor facing them, it would be a losing fight; they needed more help to combat this. Just as Aerie began to move back, trying to decide where to dodge, a holy shout rang out, the cry of a man who was giving everything he had left to give. Keldorn, disengaged from his battle with the aid of Jaheira and Imoen, drove right past the Balor and into the Slayer, piercing the side of the Slayer with Carsomyr, driving the blade in deep. It screamed, Keldorn pushing hard with his whole body as the Slayer stumbled backwards, trying to get away from the intruding weapon. It sizzled with the touch of so much evil on it its surface, but Carsomyr would not be denied, continuing to burn and scorch the demon impaled upon its blade.

Minsc and Aerie reversed their retreat and charged instead, striking dually upon the Balor with both blade and magic. Minsc was inexorable, swinging wide attacks with the Sword of Chaos, either pushing the Balor back or digging cuts into its arms, raised in defense… it suddenly leapt, using its wings to propel itself over the top of the ranger, landing in front of Aerie mid-incantation. It thrust out a long claw, catching her face neatly. She was thrown backward with great force, the Balor hissing as he stomped forward to gaze at her bloodied face… before the Chaos Blade came from behind and decapitated it completely. As the demon's head rolled off, blood spilling from its neck on both ends, Minsc leaned down next to Aerie in horror, looking at the blood running from her lips and head. Still, her eyes opened and focused on Minsc, a determination in them that would not be beaten down. He helped her to her feet, wiped the excess blood from the long gashes across her face, and then moved forward with him, the two wounded walking as one.

The Slayer continued to backpedal, its claws reaching out to tear against Keldorn as he kept up the pressure, pushing Carsomyr in tight. They had already left the majority of the group behind, too far for aid as Keldorn kept pushing. He gritted his teeth, ignoring the sweat that pooled on his forehead. If he could just keep this up… the damage he did with every second the holy blade seared and cut Irenicus was a chance that this powerful evil would never hurt those he fought alongside. As he fought, memories of his time spent in the grove of Letherel came to him unbidden...

_"Paladin Keldorn, warrior of light and guardian of that which is holy. It is a pleasure to finally meet the man I have seen in my visions."_

_"You do me too much honor, Queen Dianya." Keldorn bowed low as the Dryad Queen approached him. Of all their party, he was the only one left out in the fields of the grove. The others had been sent in to take some food and baths; she had come to him last, and he could not help but sense by the look in her face and the tone of her voice, there was a reason for it._

_"I will speak plain, Sir Keldorn." Dianya uttered, clasping her hands together as she looked upon the man before her solemnly. "I have the gift of foresight, and I can see the branches of the future, the tendrils of fate that are weaved for the mortals of Faerun..." _

He pushed a bit harder, jamming the wider section of the blade into the stomach of the beast as well, drawing louder cries and wails… but bringing him closer to the reach of the Slayer as well. Its claws grasped the hands of Keldorn, yanking him off with two and ripping Carsomyr out with the other two. It waved the blade back and forth, despite the burning that touching such a holy blade inflicted on its hands. It bore down with its other claws, clenching the wrists of Keldorn as it pushed him downward, driving him to his knees. Keldorn's eyes were closed as he pushed back, his muscles and bones steadily losing to the force of the demon before him, unable to attack or escape. The Slayer raised Carsomyr back with one hand, then swung forward, directly at Keldorn's head. His eyes widened as he saw the holy blade swing towards him… then stop. It was as if an equal force had punched back on the Slayer's arm, sending the weapon flying from its grasp. Its head whirled to look at the weapon as if betrayed, then turned back to Keldorn, the old paladin laughing grittily as he fixed pained eyes with the demon that held him.

"You cannot wield Carsomyr, Irenicus… Only… a paladin can hold its power…"

_"With all respect... what does this have to do with me? Rather, what has given you such pause that you would ensure our solitude before speaking?" Keldorn asked, arching one eyebrow in curiosity. _

_Dianya smiled, laughing lightly as she walked toward her palace with Keldorn close behind. "I see that little slips past your notice. The streams of fate branch wide before each mortal, always shifting, always altering, never clear. Your path, Keldorn, is different. I have seen your future. I have seen your fate."_

_She paused a moment, as though expecting Keldorn to protest or argue the point. He did not, and she continued. "I will not burden you with riddles or parables. Should you continue to follow Greywulf, continue to stand by the Bhaalspawn and fight by his side... you will die. I do not know how. I do not know by whose hand you will fall. But I have seen it. Stay with him and before his quest is over, you will meet your end. There is no escape."_

The Slayer's teeth clacked together as though angered by Keldorn's continued defiance, then clenched its fists in fury. Keldorn cried out, the sound of wrenching metal echoing alongside his voice. He felt himself go flying, landing far away from Carsomyr, the Slayer stomping towards him with death in its eyes. A weariness he had almost forgotten tore through his body, weighing down his limbs and spirit. He glanced down at his wrists in alarm; the Gauntlets of Dexterity he had worn were crushed, his wrists only barely saved from the same fate by their protection. Still, the magics they had held were gone, and so was the energy they had given him. He had become so accustomed to fighting with new vigor and speed; it was like moving in a sea of sand as he got to his feet. Carsomyr was out of reach… Irenicus would never let him reach it. His hand brushed down to his other side- the familiar grip of the Hallowed Redeemer touched his trembling hands. He took a deep breath, then yanked it from its sheath. The Slayer, one hand still clutching the gaping wound Carsomyr had left, laughed at the sight.

_The two stood in silence, neither speaking a word, Dianya letting the import of what she had just said sink in. Finally, Keldorn looked up at her, his expression calm and unreadable. "Why have you told me this?"_

_For the first time, Dianya seemed confused and unsure of how to answer. It passed quickly, and she took Keldorn by the hand, clasping his fingers with her own as she spoke. "You are as noble as any man on this earth; a more deserving soul, a more worthy man could not be found if the whole of Faerun was searched. If any man should be given the opportunity to avoid such a death, a chance to pass beyond in peace... it is you."_

_Keldorn looked down at the Dryad Queen's hands, then glanced up at her with a gentle smile. "I thank you for this opportunity, my Queen. You are generous, and I am undeserving of this gift. But to abandon a fellow warrior in his time of need? To hold myself from battle for fear of death, certain or uncertain? The Code of the Paladin dictates sacrifice. I have tried to live by that code... and if I die by that code, then so be it."_

_He pulled away from her, bowing once more in respect before heading inside the palace to join the others. "Though you have my gratitude for offering me this choice... please understand that for me, there is really no choice at all." _

Keldorn did not shout a challenge, or cry for aid from the others. Instead, he whispered a quick prayer, raised his sword and rushed forward… one last time.

His blade cut right and was parried down to the left. A claw strike barely passed over the top of his shoulder. He dodged to the side, cutting upward, barely grazing the side of the Slayer's body. A counterstrike caused him to circle backward, letting the Slayer get between him and the others. He made two quick lunges, each one easily dodged, then came across in a wide sweep low, the Slayer narrowly jumping to avoid being hit. It came down, arms a half-second slow from crushing Keldorn's head. His whole body ached as he sliced downward, his strength ebbing as he cut into the Slayer successfully, driving all his might into this cut. It dug out a large gash on Irenicus' chest… and left both of his arms down at the hilt of his blade as the Slayer swung one arm back around Keldorn's chest, two of the razor sharp spines on the beast's hide puncturing Keldorn's breastplate, slipping through the Red Dragon Scale, driving deep into his chest.

His breath caught and for a moment, all the pain in the world, all the exhaustion he felt… it was gone. His fingers lost feeling, and as they slowly relaxed, his grip on the Hallowed Redeemer failed and he fell to his knees, the spines sliding out easily, dripping with his blood.

Keldorn's vision clouded, and before everything went dark, a vision of his wife floated before his eyes, his two children standing at her side. Their arms were open, their faces smiling. He smiled back, raised an arm to reach out to them... Keldorn finally slumped to the ground, the last of his strength spent. His voice was a faint whisper, "Maria... I'm coming home."

Greywulf shouted in victorious fury as one final burst of magic splintered the Pit Fiend's skull, its body collapsing on the ground, limbs sprawled in death. He looked around, watching for the next threat… Jaheira and Imoen had just received aid from Minsc and Aerie against the last Balor, the demon already faltering under their combined assault… he frowned as he kept looking, his eyes finally coming to see the form of the Slayer, off further away from the battle- an armored form lay at his feet, red pooling out quickly from the prone figure.

Greywulf rushed forward, not even hearing his own shouts of alarm, only ceasing when he drew close enough to see the Slayer turn around, a grin of death on its face as it pulled the Hallowed Redeemer from its body… then flung it down, clattering to rest beside the body of the fallen Sir Keldorn Firecam.

"No more." Greywulf choked out, his throat tightening as tears clouded his vision. "You've killed too many friends, ended too many lives… I swear I won't stop until you're dust."

It did not reply, only widened its maw in taunting fashion, making a half-swipe at Greywulf as they began to circle one another. Irenicus made a charge; he was deflected and quickly struck back with the magic of the Bhaalspawn, the sorcerer holding the Slayer at bay. Greywulf's face was emotionless, a desire for vengeance and righteous indignation flooding his mind, strengthening his strikes. This anger, this rage was pure. Not tainted with the voice of the Slayer- this was anger wrought over the death of a good man. A righteous man.

A bolt of lightning struck the Slayer from behind Greywulf, Imoen striking once more. The same fury covered her expression, her eyes glittering with tears as she took aim yet again. Irenicus recoiled with the attack, then swept back as a cut from the Sword of Chaos came from nowhere, Minsc barreling in with berserker strength. Aerie hurled a Bolt of Glory from her hands, her face moist with blood, sweat and tears. The Slayer howled with the impact, only to convulse as Jaheira's spear smashed into it from the back. It whirled to strike the new source of pain, only to have blows from Greywulf's magic and Minsc's sword strike him in his exposed surface. He writhed in pain, but did not turn again. Instead, he followed up and clawed at Jaheira wildly, the four sets of claws raking down her armor, one raking down her thigh, the other three blocked without damage. The gashes bled and dripped, but the number of blows rained upon him from the others tripled the amount he laid upon any of them.

Irenicus screeched and flailed its arms behind him, slicing into Greywulf and Minsc, but they were inexorable, remaining there and continuing to lay blow after blow into the hide of the Slayer. Greywulf ignored the needles of pain that dug into his wounds, then summoned every ounce of power he had left and slammed it into Irenicus with all his might, bolts of lightning jumping and crackling from the Slayer. He shrieked, pushed to his back as the others continued to hew at him, no quarter or mercy given. Black blood splattered their arms and hands as they continued to slash and hack at the writhing form of the Slayer, overwhelming him even as he attempted to crawl away, scrambling from the blows hailing down upon him.

"For Dynaheir!!" Minsc roared as he laid another blow down with the Sword of Chaos, digging deep into the Slayer's chest.

"For Khalid!!" Jaheira's voice spat out a curse as her spear bit into the stomach of the beast writhing there.

"For Keldorn!!" Aerie cried out as she summoned one more spell, holy fire scorching the demonic figure.

Irenicus' screams echoed from the tattered form of the Slayer, even as he somehow managed the strength to leap from their midst, rolling away before Greywulf.

A blast of red mist once again began trembling from the ground beneath the Slayer, rushing upward even as the Slayer raised one arm weakly, as though trying to ward it off. It was ineffective; the black flame roared upwards, consuming the Slayer completely, driving his foes back. As it faded, there stood, wavering and barely able to stand, the human form of Irenicus. Gashes, blood, bruises and wounds lined his body, and his eyes were barely open, his once confident sneer replaced by a look of weary disbelief, eyes barely open. He stumbled backwards, fear overtaking his features as a mist of white began rising from his body, escaping every pore of his body. The mist formed itself together into the likeness of a young man, the face of Greywulf adorning it. Irenicus' eyes widened as he clutched at the mist, sliding through his hands.

"What is happening… my magic… No! NO!!" Irenicus screamed, the mist slipping away, approaching Greywulf. It circled the Bhaalspawn for a moment, then floated above him, sliding down into his body with a flash of light.

Greywulf could barely make out the form of Irenicus collapsing to the ground, his vision obscured by white. The sensation was incredible; it was as though a flood of magic and life and light and everything that was possibly good in the world had entered him, filling him completely and beyond that. The emptiness, the void he had felt since that fateful day in Spellhold was filled; a thunderclap filled his ears, and as he felt himself drift backwards into blissful unconsciousness, all senses fading away… he didn't care. It was finally, truly over. He was whole again.


	104. Part 3: Epilogue

**Epilogue**

Warm sunlight penetrated the bedroom's interior through intricately designed windows, small particles of dust and leaf visibly drifting through. The young half-elven man lying on the silken bed slowly opened his eyes, the blurry shapes before him slowly becoming distinct. An elven lady sat at the foot of his bed, hands set in her lap. Her features were faintly familiar... she smiled gently as he looked upon her, just now noticing the crown of the Seldarine that graced her silver hair.

"I see that you have finally come to. We were worried that you would remain lost- it is good to see we were mistaken."

The voice was familiar as well… it began to draw his memories back. The fight with Irenicus at the Tree of Life. Killing him... and being dragged to Hell alongside the mage. The trials of his spirit- Irenicus turning into the Slayer. His soul… he sat up abruptly, his eyes wide, almost unwilling to believe what his heart and his spirit told him. The last thing he could recall was seeing Irenicus crumple before him, finally dead at the hands of him and his companions. His soul had been returned- and life had apparently been restored.

"I almost did not believe it when the priestesses told me that your body was showing signs of life again. Only a handful of our priests have the power to resurrect those who have passed beyond, but when your bodies would not respond to their spells, we moved onto those who could still be saved. Only a dozen or so were brought back, but we feared we had lost all of you. We were about to give up when you began to stir this morning."

"H-how… how long was I…?" Greywulf whispered, Queen Ellesime sitting back with a smile.

"Dead? A couple of days, no more. However you managed to find your way back, it is good that you have done so. You have done a great service for Suldenesselar. You saved the Tree of Life and myself, ending Irenicus' threat. To lose you or any of your companions would have been tragic." Ellesime said softly.

"And it would have made my travels much lonelier, for that matter. I have become... accustomed to your guidance." a deep voice echoed from the opposite side of the room, Greywulf smiling with relief as the scarred visage of Solaufein slid into the room, his dark robes for once illuminated in the light of the dawn. "It is good to see you again."

"Solaufein... feeling better? Things were touch and go for a moment there, that much I remember." Greywulf pushed himself up far enough to shake the drow's hand before wincing at the protesting of his muscles. He lay back down as Solaufein drew back, allowing his body to rest.

"Much, Greywulf. With the Tree healthy and free from Irenicus' assault, my mind is as sharp as ever. But the tales we share must wait for another time; I merely came to offer you my support- we will speak more later." the warrior bowed lightly to both Greywulf and the Queen, then left the room as silently as he had entered.

Ellesime glanced at the portal through which he had left; she turned back to Greywulf and spoke quietly. "That he remains here is a testament to his strength of will and his bravery. He single handedly defended the citizens of Suldenesselar until you defeated Irenicus; without him, the drow forces that remained in the city would have slaughtered us all. Elhan, Demin... all of them watched as he fought his brethren."

"Tell him I owe him a beer." Greywulf sighed quietly, letting the feel of the sun on his face warm his body and relax his spirit. "I know he didn't want to stay behind, but from the sounds of it, everything worked out in the end."

Ellesime paused as though to say something else, then apparently thought better of it and continued. "I have planned a ceremony to reward all of you and to show our gratitude for your actions. You and your companions are heroes to the elves…perhaps even legends in the making. But enough of this, for the moment. You will need to rest and regain your strength. I will send a priestess to awaken you when it is time."

Something in the way Ellesime had chosen her words, the careful way in which she spoke... Greywulf sat up abruptly; a chill passed through his body as he hoped for the words he somehow knew wouldn't come. "Wait! You said... you said we were drawn back, that we were reborn... what about Keldorn? Is he-"

Her eyes betrayed the words she did not say.

Greywulf bowed his head, slumping back down on the bed as the last hopes he had held were dashed from him. "We fought Irenicus again... in whatever Hell he dragged us to, we all battled again. Keldorn… he didn't make it. Irenicus turned into the Slayer and I couldn't do a thing to save him."

"Do not blame yourself, Greywulf." Ellesime comforted, coming back to kneel beside his bed. "He followed his heart... his duty, until the very end. The great cycle of life must inevitably end in death… do not mourn his death, but celebrate his life, Greywulf. Do not mourn…"

Her words soothed his spirit, and he found himself drifting away once more, floating away in the mixture of grief and relief that he felt, back into unconsciousness. Hours passed, and soon turned to days. The six survivors were reunited in both joy and love, their bonds only strengthened by the trials endured. Ellesime was true to her word and a ceremony was eventually held, where every elf in Suldenesselar able to stand, sit, or otherwise attend came, gathered in the palace hall. Ellesime stood before her throne, Greywulf, Imoen, Jaheira, Minsc, Solaufein and Aerie before her. Demin and Elhan flanked the group on either side, honor bearers for this magnificent ceremony. Ellesime bowed to the six outsiders, then looked out amongst the crowd gathered. She took a breath, then proceeded. "Those of you who have survived the return of the Exile to Suldenesselar know me, your Queen… but only some of you know the hero, Greywulf, sorcerer of Candlekeep, who was most instrumental in saving our city and the Tree of Life."

She gestured to Greywulf, speaking to him now, though maintaining a voice loud enough for all to listen. "Such selfless acts almost resulted in the loss of your life, and perhaps much more than that. These deeds were not performed alone… Suldenesselar also extends its gratitude to those who have traveled with you and fought by your side to help save our city."

"Jaheira, warrior druid of the elves of Tethyr." Jaheira remained motionless at the mention of her name; glory had never been what she wanted. This celebration, this ceremony- none of it was necessary for her. All she had wanted was to avenge Khalid... and it was done. Greywulf looked into her eyes, and nodded in satisfaction at what he saw there. Peace.

"Aerie, cleric of Baervan Wildwanderer and Avariel mage." Aerie looked almost as out of place here, at the center of attention, as she had when first joining their group. It seemed like so long ago, even if it had only been several months. Still, the old Aerie would have fainted on the spot, shrunk away and hid from the attention focused on her. Not anymore- Aerie was ready to face the world and every challenge that was headed her way.

"Minsc, Rashemaar ranger." the big ranger grinned broadly at the mention of his name, though he did seem a bit miffed at the lack of mention of his ever-present mentor and guide. Regardless, he simply held Boo in both hands near his chest, remaining quiet as Queen Ellesime spoke. Of all of them, Minsc was quite possibly the only one who truly understood his path. Fight for what was right. Defend the helpless. Do good. Call the man naive, and many did... but never, ever, to his face.

"Imoen, archmage of Candlekeep." the mention of the title 'archmage' brought an enormous grin to the girl's face- it was a mischievous grin that spoke to just how much the title appealed to her sense of pride, and Greywulf knew she'd be harping on it for days, if not weeks to come. Just like the old Imoen, before all of this... it was a welcome change, though one that he knew could never prove permanent. Too many things had happened for Imoen to ever be completely the way she used to be: Spellhold, losing her soul... losing her memory and trust to Greywulf in the Underdark. Things would never quite be the same between them... but it'd be close. And for the two of them, that would be enough.

"Solaufein, warrior of Ust Natha." the drow's face was expressionless; no matter how many accolades Queen Ellesime heaped upon him, Solaufein knew the truth. The elves here would never see him as one whom they could really trust or honor above their own. He was a drow, an invader. Very few on the surface would show him the honor and trust of Greywulf and his company. Perhaps, in another time, this might've bothered him, made him question his decision to venture to the surface. The voice of Eilistraee lingered in his thoughts, the sound of her speaking to him. The edges of his mouth curled up. No- it had all been worth it. Just then, he felt another's gaze resting upon him and he glanced to the right, noting Imoen's gaze resting upon him. She tossed him a wink before turning back to face the crowd. He paused for a moment, then smiled to himself. Definitely worth it.

"All these have suffered, bled… and died." Ellesime looked to the wall behind her, the apex of the grand throne room of the palace. Encased in radiant crystal, the Holy Blade Carsomyr was displayed for all to see, awaiting the next man with courage and righteousness enough to wield its power. "Sir Keldorn Firecam, a paladin of Torm, was the final member of those who fought against Irenicus in mortal combat. He fell in battle against Irenicus himself; the very last victim of Irenicus' terror. He gave his life so that we may live… the ultimate sacrifice. We call those who yet live heroes, but if anyone here is worthy of that title, it is Sir Keldorn. He was but human, and in the end, one of the saviors of elf-kind. His memory will be honored, his deeds never forgotten."

She turned back to the crowd of elves, raising her voice as Priestess Demin stepped forward along with six other elves to offer their gifts to the adventurers. "There is no reward adequate enough for these who have done so much. Let us offer, then, the eternal thanks of our people, alongside amulets of the Seldarine to remind you forever that you are welcome here amongst us."

Ellesime smiled faintly as she watched the amulets bestowed, then turned back to the crowds, her voice barely faltering as the words she spoke became so much harder.

"As for the man whom we once knew as Joneleth, I can only say that he died long ago; he lives in my memory still. To the man he became, the Exile, Irenicus- he who performed atrocities on you, the Tree and his former people… to him I can only send my prayer that he finds the peace in death he never found in life. I feel I must… apologize, on his behalf. For what he put you, the people who trusted me with your safety, through. For his madness, we stripped Joneleth of his elven immortality and exiled him…only to create Irenicus, instead. I cannot help but feel we are partly responsible. It is something I shall have to ponder on. I pray that I shall regain your trust in the days to come."

She raised her hands and bowed to the six before her. "Let all of Suldenesselar raise the cry… these are our saviors. Let us treat them with the respect and the honor they have so rightly earned."

X X X X X X

Heat and flame licked at his body, stirring him from the unconsciousness he had lapsed into for so long. His face contorted into a frown, eyes still closed as he dragged his arms back from their outstretched position, trying to get a grasp of his surroundings. He blinked once, letting his vision return to him.

Irenicus clutched his head as he managed to climb to his feet, looking out before him in horror. He stood on the edge of a precipice, leaning over a lake of fire and brimstone below, belching forth sulfur clouds and ash into the air. He raised one hand, letting ash float down to his palm, as though assuring himself he was truly in such a terrible place. It was true. After everything he had done to avoid it, put it off… he was in the Abyss.

"To end… like *this*?" Irenicus whispered in disbelief, an explosion of molten rock spitting forth lava from the lake below.

A chittering noise and a flash swept behind him in a blur; Irenicus only catching it with the very edges of his vision. The initial sense of panic he felt calmed quickly, Irenicus comforting himself with the fact that despite it all… he still had his power. He could still feel magic coursing through him… destroying something to take out his frustrations would feel so good.

He whirled with a snarl of victory, flashing his palm outward to invoke his powers of destruction… only to have them fizzle worthlessly in his hand. Irenicus looked at his hand with despair, the shouted a word of power and thrust his hand again… once more producing nothing but a purple spark in his hand. He looked up helplessly, his body gripped with fear.

Dozens of chittering, bug like demons snapped and crouched before him, each one eyeing him hungrily. The foremost ones paced back and forth, slowly drawing near to him… one charged from the pack, snapping and clawing voraciously. Irenicus whirled out of the way, slamming one arm into the back of the demon, sending it careening off the cliff to the fires below. Another came, this one stopping short as Irenicus dropped a double fisted blow on its back… only to be pushed forward amidst Irenicus' screams as the whole horde charged, covering the wizard and pushing him backwards until they all fell as one, disappearing into the fires below.

X X X X X X

"Want some company?" Jaheira's voice broke through the fog of memories Greywulf had surrounded himself with, staring out the balcony of the room he was in, overlooking the whole of the city of Suldenesselar from the palace. "You look lonely."

He turned to see her approach, dressed in a long emerald robe, a small wreath of leaves adorning her long brown hair. "Never when you're around." Greywulf returned, embracing her gently with a kiss to the cheek. "Just thinking, that's all."

"What about?"

"Lots of things, I guess." Greywulf shrugged. "What we'll be doing now… where we'll go. I mean, after we help the city clean up a bit. Invading drow… just like invading orcs, both make such a mess. It's been so long since we haven't been driven somewhere or other by people trying to kill us… this is kind of a new feeling."

"A good one, though." Jaheira murmured, laying her head on his shoulder. "The elves are planning a funeral for Keldorn in a matter of days… they say that he'll be the first human ever buried in Suldenesselar."

"Do you think he'd have rather been buried in Athkatla, with his family?" Greywulf asked quietly.

"I thought about mentioning it to them… but then decided against it. He will be with them regardless… and I think he would have liked being buried here. Peaceful- this is what I think he was always looking for, anyway."

"I wish he could have found it in life. It's funny. We had two sparring sessions- we never got around to the third one. He said his last battle would be with Firkraag. But by following us-" Greywulf began before Jaheira shushed him with a finger, her green eyes flashing with a warning.

"By following us he avenged his family and reached the end of his labors on earth. I will hurt you if you try to blame yourself."

"I know I shouldn't… but still, another friend to bury." Greywulf sighed with a smile. "I was thinking earlier about Gorion, too… thinking about what he must have been feeling when he took me and Imoen in… knowing the risks and dangers he faced for it. He must have had every chance and reason in the world to give up on us."

"He didn't, though… and I've never been more thankful." Jaheira said wistfully. "Gorion knew what he was doing. He often spoke to Khalid and me of the day you would surpass him… the day your power and wisdom would exceed his own."

"He did?"

"Yes… it was not spoken with the air of fear or wariness. It was pride. He was proud of you, Greywulf… proud of the man you have grown to be. Keldorn was too."

He smiled with gratitude and kept one hand clutching hers, the two of them looking down at the city view together. "So... about this whole marriage business I brought up before... should we tell the others? I mean, they're going to want to know. Ellesime could probably perform the ceremony for us if we wanted-"

"Are you in some kind of hurry?" Jaheira arched an eyebrow. "Come now- have you ever known me to be impulsive?"

"Not in the least." Greywulf chuckled as she pulled him close. "I suppose we might wait for a bit. At least long enough for me to find a ring and all that."

"Very well then." Jaheira gave him a teasing smile as they broke off a kiss. "After all… for once, we have all the time in the world."

X X X X X X

On a hillside overlooking a small village, five figures stood, quietly watching. Waiting. The giant among them glanced behind at the army gathered at their backs. A mass of bodies, armored and ready to strike at a moment's notice. He growled with impatience, only for one of the others to speak quietly, her soft tones as commanding as they were gentle. "Patience. This is the moment which shall be remembered in history as the beginning of our ascension. Try to savor it."

"Will it?" one of the others muttered, just loudly enough for the man standing beside him to snarl, a guttural growl coming from his hood.

"Having second thoughts, monk? Don't tell me you're losing courage at this juncture."

The monk barely listened, watching the people in the village below scurry about their business, scarcely aware of the danger that lurked so near. Unaware of the death and destruction that was about to reign down upon them so soon. Death that he would bring upon them, whether by his choice or not.

"No. Not at all. What of Gorion's ward? He has become far more powerful than we anticipated..."

"He should have been dealt with sooner." the giant rumbled. "I shall crush him, with or without my armies-"

"He is of no importance. Forget about him." one of the others cut him off, her tones enough to chill any listener in the evening air. "There have been enough delays. Once we begin, we cannot stop until the Throne is ours. You know this..."

The men and women glanced at one another, knowing the truth of this statement. There was no going back, once they gave the word- but it had to be unanimous. They all looked to the monk, awaiting his assent. He took one final look at the village below, as though hoping that they had made a mistake, that the one they sought was not among them... no. He could feel the taint below, the spawn hiding amidst the other villagers. He had no choice. The monk nodded, and the giant grinned as he roared, a booming echo across the hills and into the village. The peasants below who heard the sound were taken by surprise; they looked to the top of the hill- just in time to scream in terror as an army swarmed over the hillside, bent on the destruction of one man and anyone who stood in their path.

The Five turned from the slaughter, each one heading back to their respective strongholds. The Wars of the Bhaalspawn were about to begin...

**END**

_Author's Post-Script: And with that... I believe we're done! My thanks to everyone who has been kind enough to read and review, and a special thanks to those who have stuck with this through the whole two-year run! A few honorable mentions: thanks to Kyubak for my very first review, and Bjrn Fallqvist for acting as my beta for a time, even if it was a bit short lived! To answer the question, a sequel is coming as soon as Slow Fade(shameless plug) is finished up. Until then, I would welcome and hope to hear from anyone who has yet to review. This was my first fic, after all, so if you haven't done it yet, I'm more than open to ideas, comments, criticism, the whole nine yards. Liked it? Hated it? Think I should never write again? Now's the time to let me know- and until next time, my thanks once again for everyone who read(and hopefully enjoyed) the story!_

_Capt. Incredible_


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